i * . ve 4 ' ote errata, ee a eae , ‘aug ; iv } rae 1 a AP oY £ / : ie 1. ns aKa Ye sy 4 bai ahd #4 iy Ayr y Sot aa ahs ry) a i ai SMITHSONTAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS 7 AS qaeeeeeosens oe ““EVERY MAN IS A VALUABLE MEMBER OF SOCIETY WHO, BY HIS OBSERVATIONS, RESEARCHES, AND EXPERIMENTS, PROCURES KNOWLEDGE FOR MEN’’—SMITHSON (PupLicaTion 2091) CITY OF WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION 1912 f 7 ; ay e “Aas | a) an > ie , ih. aot ke My cy a Pp ) od eet lie naka vr a ee ' aS cape $ ; * ¥ ee q ‘ : ee ‘ 5 4 A [ ca f 7 i wy } ’ . ee ADVERTISEMENT The present series, entitled “ Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collec- tions,” is intended to embrace all the publications issued directly by the Smithsonian Institution in octavo form; those in quarto constitut- ing the “Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge.” ‘lhe quarto series includes memoirs, embracing the records of extended original investigations and researches, resulting in what are believed to be new truths, and constituting positive additions to the sum of human know!l- edge. ‘The octavo series is designed to contain reports on the present state of our knowledge of particular branches of science; instructions for collecting and digesting facts and materials for research; lists and synopses of species of the organic and inorganic world; reports of explorations; aids to bibliographical investigations, etc., generally pre- pared at the express request of the Institution, and at its expense. In the Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge, as well as in the present series, each article is separately paged. The actual date of its publication is that given on its special title-page, and not that of the volume in which it is placed. In many cases works have been pub- lished and largely distributed, years before their combination into volumes. CHAS. D. WALCOTT, Secrelury of the Smithsonian Institution. (tii) , it ‘ ; 4 ; ‘i ; io a aa tee ee Ws ae E oe eho ated ae an a4 ey m at ‘* Pn aae Ww iT eee ban eurreae ere ‘ee Me aie Frac ae i ye oh ie baleen ‘i rae bug 4 pe ; i a eae Wed: ee Vis eer cy etary aC pha Waec eee = : ast ay it ne Te a AS aur cae ‘ EN te) en aay he ee W Lhe ce, ae mi "eae at = ay - ' | saz » a co wel ee pane AN pa (Ree < » Lye? at a a kt ih ies. wo v wat wien a r aby! 9 supe CUP vee " 1h YP aah re ‘A Teas om party Get eerie ay ff Co Ore) tw ie ; a x al hd % en ih yt i Dian ae oH 1 eo this wey W ee os sie oi Se Pair a, ere Ee A a ‘ania mh) Pye a Sinan oe i me ory at aah reel te hP pant eo Nw ye ofa i oY Cee eae on 0 ‘ aa dak ey, Ate iia. a ; ee . heedetay ) le gg * a ie 10. ira 14. CONTENTS . CocKERELL, T. D. A. The scales of the African characinid fishes. Published May 7, 1910. 10 pp., 2 pls. (Publication number 1929.) . Hoxuister, N. Mammals collected by John Jay White in British East Africa. March 31,1910. 12 pp.,2 pls. (Pub. No. 1930.) 3. CocKERELL, T. D. A. The scales of the mormyrid fishes, with re- marks on Albula and Elops. May 7, 1910. 4 pp. (Pub. No. 193.12) . Scrrmirrer, FerprnAnp. Upper Yukon native customs and folk- lore. May 26,1910. 30 pp. (Pub. No. 1933.) 5. CLARKE, Frank WicGLeswortH. A preliminary study of chemi- eal denudation. June 29, 1910. 19 pp. (Pub. No. 1935.) . Becxer, GEorcE F. The age of the earth. June 29,1910. 28 pp. (Pub. No. 1936.) . Exiior, D. G. Description of a new subspecies of African monkey of the genus Cercopithecus. June 11, 1910. 1p. (Pub. No. £9377.) . Busex, Aueusr. Notes on a horn-feeding lepidopterous larva from Africa. July 28, 1910. 2 pp., 2 pls. (Pub. No. 1941.) 9. Hutter, Epmunp. Descriptions of seven new species of Kast African mammals. July 22, 1910. 5 pp., 3 pls. (Pub. No. 1942.) Dati, WituiAmM Hearry. New land shells from the Smithsonian African Expedition. July 22,1910. 3 pp. (Pub. No. 1945.) Reese, AtBert M. Development of the digestive canal of the American alligator. October 29, 1910. 25 pp., 15 pls. (Pub. No. 1946.) _ Rrrrer, Wonraanc. Hodgkins Fund. ‘The flying apparatus of the blow-fly. A contribution to the morphology and physi- ology of the organs of flight in insects. May 11, 1911. 76 pp., Zope (eub. No. 1947.) 3. Hoxtuisrer, N. Two new African ratels. October 10, 1910. 3 pp. (Pub. No. 1988.) Mearns, Epcar A. Descriptions of ten new African birds. De- cember 23, 1910. 7 pp. (Pub. No. 2003.) (v) ee nS a CONTENTS 5. Heuer, EpMunp. New species of insectivores from British East Africa, Uganda, and the Sudan. December 23, 1910. 8 pp., 1pl. (Pub. No. 2004.) _ HrpwitKxa, ALEs. Some results of recent anthropological explora- tion in Peru. April 26,1911. 16 pp.,4 pls. (Pub. No. 2005.) ?. Herter, Epmunp. New species of rodents and carnivores from Equatorial Africa. February 28, 1911. 16 pp. (Pub. No. 2006.) _ Srearns, Mary R. Bibliography of the scientific writings of R. E. GC. Stearns. With biographical sketch by William Healey Dall. April 11,1911. 15 pp., 1 pl.’ (Pub. No. 2007.) _ Appot, C. G. The silver disk pyrheliometer. March 31, 1911. 10 pp., 1 pl. (Pub. No. 2008.) _ Mearns, Epoar A. Descriptions of fifteen new African birds. _ April 17, 1911. 11 pp. (Pub. No. 2010.) . Netson, E. W. Description of a new genus and species of hum- ming bird from Panama. July 8, 1911. 2 pp. (Pub. No. 2015.) 22. Netson, E. W. Two new subspecies of birds from Panama. Sep- tember 7, 1911. 1p. (Pub. No. 2053.) . Curist, H. On Psomiocarpa, a neglected genus of ferns. Novem- ber 21,1911. 4 pp., 1 pl, (@BubmNowc052.) . Maxon, Wittram R. A remarkable new fern from Panama. No- vember 22, 1911. 5 pp., 3 pls. (Pub. No. 2055.) 25. Mearns, Epcar A. Descriptions of seven new African grass- warblers of the genus Cisticola. November 23, 1911. 6 pp. (Pub. No. 2056.) 26. Hoxztisrer, N. Four new mammals from the Canadian Rockies. December 5, 1911. 4 pp. (Pub. No. 2062.) . GotpMAN, E. A. A new kingfisher from Panama. December 1, 1911. 2pp. (Pub. No. 2058.) . Mearns, Epaar A. Description of a new species of sunbird, Helionympha raineyi, from British Hast Africa. November 28, 1911. 1p. (Pub. No. 2059.) 9. Maxon, WittrAm R. Three new club-mosses from Panama. Jan- uary 6,1912. 4 pp.,3 pls. (Pub. No. 2064.) 30. Bun, A. C. A new subspecies of Ptarmigan from the Aleutian Islands. January 6, 1912. 2 pp. (Pub. No. 2066.) 31. Witiis, Battey. Report on an investigation of the geological structure of the Alps. February 7, 1912. 13 pp. (Pub. No. 2067.) 32. 33. 3d4, 36. 37, CONTENTS vil Bent, A. C. Notes on birds observed during a brief visit to the Aleutian Islands and Bering Sea in 1911. February 12, 1912. 29 pp. (Pub. No. 2068.) STANDLEY, Paut C. Three new plants from Alberta. February i 19te, -3 pp. (Pub, No: 2069.) STANDLEY, Pau C. A new leather flower from Illinois. Febru- ary, (, 1912) 03. pp. Jepl. «( Pub. Noz2070.) . Houtister, N. New mammals from Canada, Alaska, and Kam- chatka. February 7,1912. 8pp.,3 pls. (Pub. No. 2072.) GotpMAN, EH. A. Descriptions of twelve new species and sub- species of mammals from Panama. February 19, 1912. 11 pp. (Pub. No. 2073.) Netson, E. W. Descriptions of two new species of nun birds from Panama. February 16, 1912. 2 pp. (Pub. No. 2074.) SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOLUME 56, NUMBER 1 THE SCALES OF THE AFRICAN CHARACINID FISHES WITH TWO PLATES BY T. D. Ay COCKERELE University of Colorado, Boulder, Colo. (PUBLICATION 1929) CITY OF WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION May 7, 1910 re WASHINGTON, D.C. PRESS OF JUDD & DETWEILER, INC. 1910 THE SCALES OF THE AFRICAN CHARACINID FISHES By 1, D/A. COCKERELL UNIVERSITY oF COLORADO, BOULDER, CoLo. (Wits Two PLaTEs) As primitive relatives of the Cyprinidze, confined to the Neotropical and Ethiopian regions, the Characinidze (or Characide) are of more than usual interest to students of the evolution of fishes. After having spent much time in the investigation of the scales of the Cyprinids, I was very anxious to see those of the Characinids, and the opportunity was offered during a recent visit to the British Mu- seum. For all the material used in the preparation of the present paper I am indebted to the kindness of Dr. G. A. Boulenger, who has in his custody at the British Museum a truly wonderful col- lection of African freshwater fishes, as every ichthyologist knows. It was an extraordinary privilege to have access to these rich mate- rials, which had been gathered with so much difficulty and sometimes danger, and had formed the basis of classical researches. The sculpture of an ordinary fish-scale includes two important elements, the circuli and the radii. The circuli are circular lines, sometimes referred to as “lines of growth,’ while the radii are lines or grooves radiating outward from the nuclear area, which may or may not be in the center of the scale, but is practically always in the middle line. The most primitive fish with scales resembling those of the Teleosts is Amia calva, and through the kindness of Dr. B. W. Evermann I have been able to examine speci- mens of this fish from the Yellow River at Plymouth, Indiana. There are no radii, but the scales are made up of longitudinal strands which are really separable elements, and will fray out basally. These appear on the scale as very fine striae which in the apical field are directed toward a broad rugulose nuclear area. ‘There is no doubt, I think, that these are the circuli of the Teleosts, and indeed they are nearly repeated in various forms, though I know no scale which as a whole can be said to closely resemble that of Amia.1 This view 1T placed a scale of Polypterus endlicheri (from the White Nile) in acid to ascertain the structure of the organic basis, which proved to be rather scanty and of a sponge-like consistency. SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS CCLLECTIONS, VOL. 56, No. 1 tinea ————————————— SS RS ET SN Sin 2 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50 suggests the probability that the Teleosts with very fine and dense circuli (e. g., the majority of the Old World Cyprinids) are so far more primitive than those in which the circuli are fewer (e. g., the New World Cyprinids, but not the Catostomids), as had already been assumed on other grounds. The radii, according to this theory, are of secondary origin. In some cases they may lose their radial arrangement, and more or less simulate circuli. ‘This is seen in Alosa sapidissima Wilson (fig. 1), the circuli of which are extremely fine and delicate, while the radii of the basal field actually take the form of widely spaced transverse, almost concentric lines. In some of the scales (the larger and broader ones) this development is so complete as to conceal its origin, but in other scales on the same fish the various transitional states can be perceived. On the other hand the circuli may also become transverse, losing the appearance of concentric lines. This is excellently shown in Scomber chrysozonus, from ; Massauah, (pla; fig. 2) ‘that the. lames Fic. 1. Alosa sapidissima really are circuli is proved by the scale of Wilson Scomber pneumatophorus (Table Bay, Drawn by Miss Ee V_ Moore’. Cape (at Goon blopes, (ul aie ne eye which they are still obviously circul1. The African Characinide have scales of two main types, which seem to be wholly distinct. ‘The first, including the Hydrocyonine and Citharininze, may be called the Cyprinoid type, showing a dis- tinct—often strong—resemblance to the scales of the Cyprinide. In this type the nuclear area is central, or nearly so, and the scales are usually cycloid, rarely ctenoid, and when so not at all like the ctenoid scales of the other group. The second or ctenoid group proper includes the Ichthyoborine and Distichodontine, which cannot be separated on the squamation. In this series the apical teeth are very regular and numerous, united laterally, and the nuclear area is almost at the apex, the base being thrown more or less into folds. This basal folding appears to lead to the very distinctive system of basal radii found in the Acan- thopterygian and allied fishes; e. g., in Tilapia nilotica (Cichlide), (pl. 1, fig. 3), Apomotis cyanellus (Centrarchide), Cyprinodon fasciatus (Cyprinodontide), and Anabas munti (Anabantide). NiO) al SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES—COCKERELL 3 This type of basal radii thus runs through the Haplomi, Acan- thopterygii and Percesoces; yet it is wholly absent in the Scom- brids, so far as I know, and Gadus (cf. H. W. Marett Tims, Quart. Journ. Micr. Science, Oct., 1905) shows nothing of it. (The scale - of Gadus is curiously like that of Catostomus.) The ctenoid features found in Anabas seem to be traceable to a Berycid source. It is evi- dent, of course, that no Acanthopterygian fish can be derived from any Characinid stock, but it is suggested that the basal folding was developed among the Malacopterygians (Alosa shows it sufficiently well) and carried thence to the Characinid and Acanthopterygian (or Haplomid) ancestors. I hope in some later contribution to compare the South American Characinid scales with the African. At present I cannot do this for lack of material, but the little I know suggests that there may be little resem- blance between them. (Figure 2 (drawn by Miss (Ewe lyn V.. Moore) shows the scale of Cheirodon insignis Steindachner from Panama; this fish is placed by Bou- Fic. 2. Cheirodon insignis Steindachner lenger in the Hydro- cyoninz, but it will be seen that there is no resemblance to the scales of any of the African members of that subfamily. The scale of Luciocharax is quite unlike anything African, but this belongs to an exclusively American subfamily (Xiphostomine ). For the means of obtaining the photographic figures (the work of Mr. T. C. Black, of Boulder, Colorado) I am indebted to a grant from the American Association for the Advancement of Science. It may be worth while to state that in order to get good photographs the scales must be mounted dry. When placed in balsam many of the characters are obscured. HYDROCYONINA The scales of the African Hydrocyonine fall naturally into three groups: (1) Sarcodaces group, in which the approximately circular scales have fine and rather numerous radii, and the circular sculpture is very distinct, the apical circuli very coarse and quite different from the basal and lateral. S. odoé examined. 4 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56: (2) Alestes group, including Alestes, Micralestes, and Petersius, in which the radii are few but very strong, the sculpture is often weak in the apical region, and the scales are frequently much broader than long. (3) Hydrocyon group, in which the apical field is more or less rugose, and the radii are evanescent, the basal radii usually absent. The dorsal scales of Hydrocyon show numerous but very weak apical radii, which pro- — duce some crenulation of the very thin margin, indicating a slight approach to a ctenoid condition. HA. forskalii examined. It appears probable that Sarcodaces odoé (River Benue, north of Ibi, H. L. N. Traill) has the more primitive type of scale. Hydrocyon forskalii (River Nile) can be derived from this by the general weakening of all the structures; while the Alesies group represents a reduction of the radial system, with a much stronger development of what remains. ‘Thus three fairly distinct tribes. would appear to be indicated: Sarcodacini, Alestini, and Hydrocyonini, their typical genera Sarcodaces, Alestes, and Hydrocyon respectively. The term Hydrocyonini was used by Bonaparte as early as 1838 (Nuovi Annali delle Sci. Nat. 2, p. 132). Bryconethiops I have not seen. ALESTES Group A. Scales very large, the transverse diameter over 15 mm. (1) Scales very much broader than long. Alestes teniurus Ginther. Kribi River, Cameroon (G. L. Bates). Scale about 10.5 mm. long and 16.5 broad; basal radii about 12; discaf region divided into many polygonal areas. (2) Scales not much broader than long. Alestes rhodopleura Boulenger. Mtondwe Bay, Lake Tanganyika -(Cunnington). Scale about 18 mm. long and 21 broad; basal radii two; lateral radii two on each side, more or less inclined to be divided or delta-like mar- ginally; apical radii few and quite irregular; apical region rugose; circuli of basal region extremely fine. Alestes macrolepidotus Cuvier and Valenciennes. River Nile. Structure essentially as in A. rhodopleura; rugosity of apical region, resulting from modified circuli, very pronounced. The discal region may be reticulate. Group B. Scales smaller, the transverse diameter much less than 15 mm. Owing to individual variation and the small amount of material available it is impossible to determine the precise specific characters in this group. Some of the species probably cannot be separated on the scales. In no case are the scales of the very broad teniurus type. (1) Comparatively large reddish scales, with the apical rugosity poorly developed. Alestes macrophthalmus Ginther. Lake Tanganyika (J. E. S. Moore). Radii very few and feeble, in the single scale examined there is only one basal; scale about 7.5 mm. long and 9 broad. Alestes liebrechtsti Boulenger. Coquilhatville, Upper Congo (Delhez). Radii more numerous, about six basal, but two of these incomplete; discal region with some polygonal areas; scale about 8.5 mm. long and 10.5 broad. The characters separating these two are doubtless variable, NO. I SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES—COCKERELL 5 (2) Rather large white scales, with the apical circuli forming conspicuous strong ridges; the basal circuli, as usual, very fine. Alestes affinis Giinther. Wabbi System (O. Neumann). Only one basal radius; apical region with the radii branching and anasto- mosing quite irregularly, all very strong; scale about 7 mm. long and 8 broad. Alestes imberi Peters. Lake Nyassa (Capt. E. L. Rhoades). Thinner scales than those of A. affinis; basal radii three; apical region quite as in A. affinis. Scale about as broad as long. (3) Rather small (6 to 7 mm. diameter) whitish scales of a rather broad type, having the outline of a little more than a half circle; apical sculpture feeble; basal radii three or four. ‘There is no sign of the apical structure described under A. affinis. These scales are certainly nearer to the macrophthalmus group than to the affinis group. Alestes (Brachyalestes) longipinnis Steindachner. Sette Cama, Gaboon (Gerrard). : Alestes chaperi Sauvage. Kotchwah River (R. B. N. Walker). These two were united by Giinther, and certainly there is no difference in the scales. (4) Small scales about 6 mm. diameter or less, without very marked characters. Alestes sadleri Boulenger. Entebbe, Lake Victoria (Degen). Polygonal areas present or absent; apical circuli rather strong. Alestes lateralis Boulenger. Kafue River, Upper Zambesi (T. Codrington). Scale small, but not from a fully-grown fish. Only one basal radius. Alestes intermedius Boulenger. Kribi River, Cameroon (G. ZL. Bates). Scale rather broad, with five basal radii; apical sculpture very feeble; lateral circuli, especially in the subdiscal region, much less dense than usual, and minutely wavy or zigzag. Alestes surse Ruppel. River Nile. Basal radii variable up to about six; polygonal areas present or absent. Alestes baremose Joannis. River Nile. Basal radii one or two; polygonal areas not Ghestuads scale in general similar to that of A. nurse, but differing in important details, as shown below. The scales described above were all taken from the vicinity of the lateral line, about the level of the beginning of the dorsal fin. The following notes describe the variation observed on the different parts of the fish. Alestes macrolepidotus. This species is remarkable for the very large scales, and the posterior situation of the first dorsal fin. The borders of the scales are beautifully purplish-iridescent, but the fish is not silvery like A. nurse and baremose. ‘The coarse apical circuli become entirely longitudinal, suggesting the corresponding structures in Amia calva, in which the progenitors of the circuli are longitudinal strands. ‘The apical radii largely anastomose transversely, resulting in the formation of very irregular transverse markings, few in num- ber. In the ventral region the sculpture is more profuse, and the apical field develops a sort of cancellation, in which the longitudinal lines appear to represent modified circuli, and the transverse modi- fied radii. The anterior dorsal scales are again quite different, with 6 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 a curiously Amia-like sculpture, composed almost altogether of ele- ments representing the circuli, but consisting of coarse longitudinal strie or strands, which are, however, continuous with the usual extremely fine and regular circuli of the concealed portion of the scales, the latter having about three strong basal radii and one on each side. Alestes nurse. Very similar in appearance to A. baremose, but deeper-bodied. The strong apical circuli are mainly longitudinal, meeting at an acute angle in the middle line. The apical radii often have transverse branches, more or less in the manner of a spreading tree; usually there is a single apical radius, with branches leaving at right angles, but in the dorsal and ventral regions there are more. Alestes baremose. ‘The sculpture, on close comparison, is really very distinct from that of A. nurse, The apical circuli, instead of forming regular grooves, are evanescent, reduced to a fine rugosity; the apical field is. sparsely punctate; the one to three apical radii are usually incom- plete, and show no lateral branches. The ventral and dorsal scales show many thin, weak, parallel apical radii. Alestes opisthotenia Boulenger, from Efulen, Cameroon (G. L. Bates) has rather large (about 8 mm. long and 10 broad) white scales, resemb- ling those of the affinis group; with four basal radii, discal polygonal areas, and coarse apical circuli. The interesting feature of the scale is, however, that it is subctenoid, with small but very evident apical denticulations. ‘The teeth are broader than long, and indicate the beginning of such structures as are found, much better developed and much reduced in number, in Citharidium ansorgti. The ctenoid scales of Distichodus, Xenocharax, etc., are entirely different. There are slight indications of apical denticulation in some other Alestes, as A. rhodopleura and A. imbert. MICRALESTES The scales of this genus cannot be distinguished from those of Alestes; that is to say, there is no generic difference, though specific distinctions may be found to separate any particular species of Micralestes from any particular Alestes. ‘The scales are always conspicuously broader than long. Group A. Apical circuli strong, coarse, and complete, those of the two sides meeting at an obtuse angle. Micralestes holargyreus Ginther. Boma (Delhes). Scale 3.5 mm. long, 5.33 broad; six radii, all strong and complete. one apical, one basal, and two on each side; no polygonal areas. In Alestes it comes near to A. longipinnis, but it is a shorter scale, with much better developed apical sculpture. Group B. Apical sculpture feeble, the circuli ill-defined, although the basal circuli are very distinct. Micralestes altus Boulenger. Lindi, Congo (Brussels Museum). Scale about 5 mm. long and 7 broad; basal circuli much denser than lateral; three basal radii, one apical, one or two on each side; no polygonal areas. (These characters will vary; I doubt whether there is any constant difference in the radii hetween the species of Micra- lestes.) NO. I SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES—-COCKERELL 7 Micralestes humilis Boulenger. Ja River, S. Cameroon (G. L. Bates). Scale about 4 mm. long and 5.33 broad; structure as in the last. Basal radii one to six; apical one to two; polygonal areas present or absent. Micralestes interruptus Boulenger. Stanley Pool. Congo Free State. Scale small, only about 3.33 mm. wide; structure as in the others, but basal circuli less dense. Five basal and three apical radii; polygo- nal areas present. None of the Micralestes show any branching of the apical radii. PETERSIUS The scales of Petersius are quite as in Micralestes, having the same broad form, with few radii, the apical never branching. Group A. Scale relatively large, about 6 mm. long and 9 broad; apical sculp- ture very feeble. Petersius major Boulenger. Nyong River, Cameroon (G. L. Bates.) Basal radii four, apical two. Group B. Scale smaller, diameter about 5 mm. or rather less, Apical circull better developed. Petersius occidentalis Giinther. Infoan (JValker). Basal radii about four, variable; sides of scale flatter than in the next. Petersius hilgendorfi Boulenger. Kutu, Lake Leopold II (Delhez). The scale examined has only four radii, one basal. Its outline is that of a half circle. Petersius caudalis Boulenger. Boma (Delhez). Basal radii two or three; small polygonal areas sometimes developed. The smallest of the Petersius scales. CITHARININA Herbivorous fishes, with the teeth minute or absent. Gill (Proc. U. S. Nat. Mus. 18, p. 207) suggests that this group should perhaps constitute a distinct family, Citharinide. The scales are subcircular to transversely oval, without basal radii, wherein they differ from the African Hydrocyonine, excepting Hydrocyon. The following table separates the scales of the species studied: Scales ctenoid, with large, sharp apical teeth, but these few and far apart, wholly unlike those of Distichodus, etc.; nuclear area nearly central, and with circuli to middle; circuli very strong, only moderately dense; scales about 2.33 mm. long and 3.67 broad.. ..Citharidium ansorgii Boulenger, Lake Oguta, Nigeria (Ansorge). ieee elt eae rae Fe c« Nioe sho ye 2 4 wt setndevale ecw oft «sn(elnteitia wenaheys ar seye = feamtine I 1. Apical area with fewer and coarser circuli, abruptly marked off from FER UC ect ear ee et te sca mt lente cee Rete re rete) mrchie penton SMa ne pelteteatnyot ote 2 Apical area not, or not very abruptly, marked off from lateral armies 4 8 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 2. Broad scale with very many apical radii; nuclear area granular; scale about 7mm. long and 10 broad, the largest of the Citharinine SCALES ES canmite ceed one Citharinus gibbosus Boulenger. Niamkolo, Lake Tanganyika (Cunnington). Rounder scales, with fewer apical radii; nuclear area with circuli to middie’) 2.0.55 ope dow se eke we ees oo Suen Ad Silt ORR ee 3 3. Scale larger, nearly 6 mm. long, about 7 broad; character of sculpture entirely as in C. gibbosus........ Citharinus macrolepis Boulenger. Boma, Lower Congo (Delhez). Scale smaller, about 5 mm. broad; otherwise practically the same. . ..Citharinus latus Miller and Troschel. Beni Souef (Loat). 4. Nuclear area with circuli to middle; apical area with very large, coarse circuli, but not quite abruptly separated from lateral; scales small, a little over 3mm. wide....Citharinus citharus Geoffroy (geoffroyt Cuvier). White Nile (lake near) (Loat). Nuclear area broadly granular ; apical circuli coarse ; scale 4.33 mm. broad. . ..Citharinus congicus Boulenger. Bolobo, Congo (Grenfell). The above key is not wholly satisfactory, because the scales of Citharinus are really of a very uniform type, without very obvious specific characters. Two tribes are indicated: Citharidiini for Citharidium, and Citharinini for Citharinus. Boulenger places two American genera in this subfamily, but Gill separates them as Curimatine. I have not seen their scales. Hydrocyon forskalii runs in the above table near Citharinus congicus, but the resemblance is merely superficial. ICHTHYOBORIN/E® Carnivorous forms with ctenoid scales. There is nothing to distinguish their scales from those of the Distichodontine. ‘The apical teeth are numerous and close together, having little in common with those of Citharidium. The species examined are: Phago boulengeri Schilthuis. Monsembe, Upper Congo (J. H. Weeks). The scales are hard, bone-like plates joined together, but the apical densely-set spine-like teeth are quite as in the other forms. Eugnathichthys eetveldii Boulenger. Monsembe, Upper Congo (J. H. Weeks). Small subquadrate scales, with the nucleus apical, just below the row of teeth; no radii, but the basal region is broadly plicate. Ichthyoborus besse Joannis. Fashoda (Loat). Scales practically as in the last. Neoborus ornatus Boulenger. Monsembe, Upper Congo (J. H. Weeks). Scales also as in Eugnathichthys, except that the apical region is coarsely rugose. Paraphago and Mesoborus have not been examined. NOoT SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES—COCKERELL 9 DISTICHODONTINA: Herbivorous (or partly herbivorous) fishes with ctenoid scales, which re- semble those of the Ichthyoborini. The fact that Eugnathichthys and Ichthyo- borus have quite similar scales, and the absence of any characteristic difference between the scales of the Ichthyoborine and Distichodontine fishes, show that after the development of this type of squamation differentiation took other directions; hence the scales fail to afford any adequate clue to the minor sub- divisions of these groups. In some Distichodus (notospilus, sexfasciatus, atroventralis, engycephalus) the subapical (exposed) part of the scale is more or less grooved or stub- reticulate, but otherwise there are no substantial differences between the genera and species examined, which are as follows: Nannocharax fasciatus Giinther. Kribi River, Cameroon (Bates). Nannocharax niloticus Joannis. River Nile. The Nannocharax scales are the smallest of the series, less than 2 mm. broad. This accords with the small size of the fishes. Neolebias unifasciatus Steindachner. Ja River, Cameroon (Bates). Scales about 2.33 mm, broad. Nannethiops uniteniatus Giinther. Sette Cama, Gaboon (Gerrard). Scales about 4 mm. broad; basal plication very strong. The scales are longer in proportion to their breadth than those of Neolebias. Xenocharax spilurus Giinther. Ibali, Lake Leopold II (Delhez). Scales about 4.25 mm. long and 5 broad. Distichodus antonii Schilthuis. Monsembe, Upper Congo (Weeks). In this species and D. atroventralis the scale is unusually broad in pro- portion to its length. Distichodus atroventralis Boulenger. Kutu, Lake Leopold II (Dethez). I do not know how to distinguish the scale definitely from that of D. antonit. Distichodus engycephalus Ginther. River Nile at Cairo (Loat). Scales not quite 5 mm. long, about 6 broad; apical (exposed) area reticulate. Distichodus fasciolatus Boulenger. Monsembe, Upper Congo (Weeks). Scales about 3 mm. broad; nuclear area more or less rugose. Distichodus brevipinnis Giinther. Fashoda, White Nile (Loat). Scales little broader than long, shaped as in D. niloticus, but larger. Distichodus niloticus Linneus. Fashoda, White Nile (Loat). Distichodus rostratus Giinther. Gondokoro, White Nile (Loat). Scales quite as in D. niloticus; dermal pigment-spots also the same. Distichodus lusosso Schilthuis. Banzyville, Ubangi (Capt. Royaux). Scales small, less than 3 mm. diameter; subapical field broadly rugulose. Distichodus mossambicus Peters. Loangwa River, N. W. Rhodesia (S. 4. Neave). Nuclear area very broadly rugulose; a subdorsal scale is broader in pro- portion to its length than one from near the lateral line. Distichodus sexfasciatus Boulenger. Coquilhatville, Upper Congo (Delhez). Scale rather broad; apical field with radiating grooves. 10 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 Distichodus notospilus Giinther. Kribi River, Cameroon (G. L. Bates) ; Komadekke, Ogowe (W. J. Ansorge). The Kribi R. specimen has the largest scales I have seen in this genus, about 8.5 mm, long and 10.5 broad. Judging from the general characters of the fishes, and especially perhaps from the development of the maxillary, we may infer that the Hydrocyonine, a carnivorous group, have given rise to the herbivorous Citharinine. Using similar criteria, however, it would seem that the herbivorous Distichodontine had given rise to the carnivorous Ichthyoborine. EXPLANATION OF PLATES PLATE. Fic. 1. Scomber chrysozonus. Massauah. British Museum. Gill rakers very long. Fic. 2. Scomber pneumatophorus. "Table Bay, Cape of Good Hope. =colias =japonicus. British Museum. Fic. 3. Tilapia nilotica. Birket Karin, Fayoum. British Museum. Fic. 4. Alestes sadleri. Entebbe. Lake Victoria (Degen). British Museum. Fic. 5. Micralestes holargyreus Giinther. Boma (Delhez). British Museum. Fic. 6. Petersius caudalis. Boma (Delhez). British Museum. PLATE 2, Fic. 1. Citharidium ansorgit. Lake Oguta. S. Nigeria (Ansorge). British Museum. Fic. 2. Citharinus congicus. Bololo. Congo (Grenfell). British Museum. Fic. 3. Eugnathichthys eetveldii Blgr. Monsembe. Upper Congo (J. H. Weeks). British Museum. Fic. 4. Xenocharax spilurus. Ibali. Lake Leopold II (Delhez). British Museum. Fic. 5. Distichodus antonii. Monsembe. Upper Congo (Weeks). British Museum. Fic. 6. Distichodus sexfasciatus. Coquilhatville. Upper Congo (Delhez). British Museum. Fic. 7. Distichodus notospilus. Komadekke. Ogowe (W. J. Ansorge). Brit- ish Museum. SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56, NO. 1, PL. 1 SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES i ne A eoaie eee Med i Cun SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS SCALES OF AFRICAN FISHES SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOLUME 56, NUMBER 2 MAMMALS COLLECTED BY JOHN JAY WHITE IN BRITISH EAST AFRICA WITH TWO PLATES BY N. HOLLISTER Assistant Curator, Division of Mammals, U.S. National Museum (PUBLICATION 1930) CITY OF WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION March 31, 1910 es ~ hs Z hme hits MAMMALS COLLECTED BY JOHN JAY WHITE IN BRITISH BAST ABRICA By N. HOLLISTER Assistant Curator, Division oF Mam™Mats, U. S. Nationa, MusgEuM (Wit Two PLATEs) Mr. John Jay White, of Washington, D. C., has presented to the United States National Museum a number of large mammals col- lected by himself in British East Africa during the summer of 1908. Several of the specimens are of special interest, and the collection as a whole is of considerable importance. On May 8, 1908, in company with Dr. W. 8S. Rainsford, Mr. White left Nairobi for Nakuru, at which point the party left the railroad on the following day and traveled northward, by way of Ravine Station, to Sirgoit Rock, where they arrived May 21. From this date until the first of July the time was spent in hunting over the Guas Ngishu Plateau. July 8 they arrived at Ravine on the return, and traveled east and north for the Laikipia Plateau. About six weeks were spent in hunting over the region to the north of Laikipia Boma and Mount Kenia, and, on the return to the railroad, three days—September 6 to 8—were devoted to the game on the Elmenteita Plains. September 18 the party again left Nairobi, and another month was spent on the Guas Ngishu Plateau. Mr. White has furnished some interesting information about many of the species. ‘The substance of this is included, throughout the list, after the technical notes on the specimens. GIRAFFA CAMELOPARDALIS ROTHSCHILDI Lydekker Body skin and mounted head of an adult male (No. 155438) from the Guas Ngishu Plateau, June 22. This specimen is a topo- type and therefore of special value to the Museum. ‘The mizzen horns are only slightly developed . This animal was almost a record specimen for the form. Meas- ured rather hurriedly in the rain, without the front legs fully stretched, it exceeded seventeen and a half feet in height. The dry skin measured twenty-one and one-half feet from tip of nose to end of tail, and exactly the same distance between the edges of the fore hoofs across the shoulders. Giraffes were found to be fairly plen- SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS. VOL. 56, No. 2 2 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 tiful on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, and herds numbering up to a dozen or fifteen animals were frequently seen. One herd of about seventy-five was noted, but this group later divided, about twenty- five animals going in one direction and the remainder in another. BUBALIS COKEI (Gunther) Skull and skin of head and neck of a large male, given to Mr. White by Dr. W. S. Rainsford. Probably killed on Dr. Rainsford’s last trip to the Thika River region, northeast of Nairobi, in Decem- ber, 1908. The skull is a remarkable specimen in many ways, and differs from any in the large series before me from neighboring regions to the north and south. Compared with skulls of old males from Taveta, Kapiti Plains, and the Guaso Nyiro River, it differs in its greater length, greater breadth, relatively short distance from ante- rior end of premaxilla to first premolar, wide interpterygoid space, and small teeth. ‘he horns are massive, wide spreading, and the first ascending section is much longer than in any other specimen. The terminal section is short, and the horn is therefore divided into almost equal thirds, the outward ascending, horizontal, and terminal parts being of equal length. The measurements of this skull (No. 155430) are: Condylobasal length, 410 millimeters; palatal length, 235; greatest breadth, 142; facial length, 405; muzzle to orbit, 302; upper tooth row, 88; length of horns, 390; circumference at base, 254; greatest spread, 430; spread at points, 395; length of backward terminal point, 120. These animals were noted by Mr. White on the Laikipia Plateau, in the Elmenteita and Naivasha Lake country, and on the Athi and Kapita plains. None were seen on the Guas Ngishu Plateau. BUBALIS JACKSONI Thomas Skull and head skin of adult male from the Guas Ngishu Plateau, about June 15. This specimen, from only a short distance north of the type locality of jacksoni, agrees with the descriptions of that species, and the specimens in the Museum, in most particulars. The points of the horns, however, incline inward, after the style of B. nicdecki, from the White Nile region. Another specimen from the same locality, a mounted head in Mr. White’s collection, has the horn tips nearly parallel, or but slightly turned outward; and others were killed, as shown in photographs taken by the party, in which the horns distinctly turned outward. This illustrates the instability NO. 2 MAMMALS FROM BRITISH EAST AFRICA—HOLLISTER 3 of such minor horn characters, as a large series would evidently show considerable variation in the angle of the terminal section of the horn. The measurements of this skull (No. 155431) are: Condylobasal length, 426 millimeters; palatal length, 241; greatest breadth, 138; facial length, 438; muzzle to orbit, 312; upper tooth row, 100; length of horns, 553; circumference at base, 304; greatest spread, 250; spread at points, 112; length of smooth backward terminal section, 210. The skin of the head is a rich red in color with a faint stripe of black down the back of the neck from between the ears to the point where it was severed from the body. This hartebeest was very abundant on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, where hundreds were seen almost daily, in herds of from three or four up to fifty or more each. Many other animals, especially the zebra and topi, and sometimes the giraffe and eland, take advantage of the abundance of the kongoni and graze among the herds, appar- ently depending upon them to give the first alarm of approaching danger. The breeding season for many of the British East African ungulates appears to extend over the greater part of the year, and, in large herds of Jackson’s kongoni, young of several ages, from small calves to nearly grown, were often seen. CONNOCHATES TAURINUS ALBOJUBATUS Thomas Skin of head and neck to withers. Killed by Dr. Rainsford on the Athi Plains, in December. Practically a topotype of albojubatus. The color represents the dark phase and is much darker than in any of six heads in the Museum collection frorn “Masailand,” the yellowish-white throat fringe being especially conspicuous. This animal was seen only in the Athi Plains country and appar- ently does not occur on the Laikipia or Guas Ngishu plateaus. OREOTRAGUS OREOTRAGUS SCHILLINGSI (Neumann) In the collection presented by Mr. White were the feet of one of these antelopes from the Laikipia Plateau. In his collection of trophies Mr. White has two heads of old bucks which differ greatly in color. One from Elmenteita has the head gray, with almost pure white markings, while the head from the Laikipia country is every- where deeply suffused with an ochraceous color, giving a very differ- ent appearance to the animal. SS 4 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 Klipspringers were frequently seen on the Laikipia Plateau, usually in small groups of two or three individuals. At one time five were seen on the same hill, but this was probably a chance gathering of two lots. None were seen on the Guas Ngishu Plateau. OUREBIA COTTONI Thomas PEATE. EG. Teokunn Three skulls and head skins from south of the Nzoia River, on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, June. These are practically topotypes of cottoni, described from Sirgoit Rock, and show the species to be very distinct from O. keny@, from the region northeast of Nairobi, though closely related to O. montana. From the latter it is, how- ever, readily distinguished by the larger horns. The skins agree with the series examined by Thomas in the absence of a distinct dark frontal blaze. The skulls agree in all important measurements and characters with the description of the type. They measure: 155415 155420 155421 Adult male. Young male Young male. mm. min. mm. Greatest Wenother man eters savin oc onmelo seers 168 105 162 Condylobasal’ length,;..: 5 ....¢s 5 sat say ceettien 157 55 154 Greatestpneadtinwatticce tui erate eee 75 73 73 Interorbitalbreadthe ss. siee ei ce eer ees 54 45 40 Mizz ertonOuDiter tetris iio elaie nea aCe 87 85 85 WapertoothafOwp. i=. ho. a hacaites doce 53 —' ie emmthiordhortisey.:.c esa: vee os cee oc eee 12 100 93 *Last molars not entirely in place. OUREBIA MICRODON, new species PLATE 1, KIGs: 2:3 eo Runt Type—Skull of adult male, Cat. No. 155422, U. S. N. M., col- lected south of the Nzoia River on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, British East Africa, summer of 1908, by John Jay White. Diagnostic characters.—Size large; rostrum long; teeth small; horns short, stout, and heavily ringed. Color.—External characters unknown. Skull and teeth—Compared with skulls of O. cottom the type skull of O. microdon is much larger, with longer rostrum, narrow interpterygoid fossa, and smaller teeth. Though the skull is larger, the teeth are actually smaller. The basioccipital is nearly square, with surface almost flat; very different from the deep-pitted, trian- gular basioccipital of O. cottoni. From O. montana it differs in NO. 2 MAMMALS FROM BRITISH EAST AFRICA—HOLLISTER 5 much larger size; horns stouter and heavily ringed ; rostrum heavier ; basioccipital square and flat. It may be distinguished from skulls of O. kenye by its larger size, longer rostrum and nasals, narrow interpterygoid fossa, square and flat basioccipital; and shorter, stouter, more heavily-ringed horns. The skull of O. microdon differs also from skulls of all the above-mentioned species in the straight line of the inner edge of the upper tooth row, which in all of these is decidedly concave. The palate, therefore, is almost oblong, and the distance across between the first premolars almost equals the distance across between the last molars. Measurements.—See table below for measurements of the type skull. Remarks.—As known from the skull alone this new oribi is very different from O. cottoni, inhabiting the same region. It appears to be more closely related to O. kenye@, from the headwaters of the Tana River. A comparison of measurements of skulls of adult males of the four species of Ourebia from the region is given in the following table: O. microdon. O. cottont. O7 kenye. O. montana. 155422 155415 162857 112998 Pedgicaaies series) Ge ar tees co eae ype. mm. mm. mm. mm. MGmeatestulenethy mo cmc lcisteicleels oslo 175 168 165 164 Condylobasal length ........... 163 157 154 153 Basalelenothiececrusetcacsca!dwls esters 152 146 143 144 Balatalelength si cecucss se c's e's 98 94. 88 890 AGredtest DTedCth .\ii isos. oa das-e 7, 75 75 74 Interorbital breadth ........... 51 54 49 44 MitizzleatOMOrbi teres son's sietetecsiere 95 8&7 85 86 WMengriof asals <2 ss-ecea-ss ie 60.5 61 51 58 Wp PEEAEOOEMETOW2. -)e ace wesiews coins s0s 48 53 49 50 ETI SRM OL, MOET st c/n vores cfeiele o saya 108 123 IIS 102 ‘Circumference of horn......... 55 50 47 47 KOBUS DEFASSA UGANDZ (Neumann) Skull and head skin of adult male, killed on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, south of the Nzoia River, summer of 1908. The specimen agrees with Neumann’s description in its large size and colors, the bright rufous face contrasting decidedly with the paler color of the cheeks and neck. Measurements of the skull (No. 155414) are: Greatest length, 420 millimeters; condylobasal length, 408; greatest breadth, 166; 6 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 nasals, 153; palatal length, 220; interorbital breadth, 123; upper tooth row, 114; muzzle to orbit, 246; length of horn, 692; circum- ference.of horn at base, 249; distance between points, 420; greatest spread, 507. In this skull the premaxille fail to reach the nasal bones by a distance of ten millimeters. CERVICAPRA REDUNCA WARDI Thomas Skull and head skin of adult male from the Guas Ngishu Plateau, June. Measurements of skull (No. 155429) : Greatest breadth, 103 millimeters; length of nasals, 92; interorbital breadth, 63; upper tooth row, 58; length of horn, 217; distance between points, 135. The reedbuck was common on the Nzoia River; singles, pairs, and small herds of up to seven or eight animals were seen.’ GAZELLA THOMSONI NASALIS Lonnberg Three skulls of adult males, two of them accompanied by skins of head and neck to shoulders, from Elmenteita, September 7. The skins exhibit a very distinct black patch on the nose, and appear to represent the northern race. The skulls show no appreciable char- acters to separate them from skulls of typical thomsont from the Kilimanjaro region. Measurements of skulls: 155427 155428 155426 mm. mm. mm. Condylobasalltlenathy S55 cars on ctatelons = aver 198 196 183 Greatestebreadthit.27 27a 26 hengtieon upper premolar TOW. 3.6 2.605 2.08 sere ee Obi 79.5 eM OUMIP Eh CAL MASS ates acto < oma cake arto c alebarees in) esas 38 39 Length of lower molar-premolar series.............-.-- 74 77 ene imotslower \CArniasstal oy 2s sores s:loasciea slovd earg wre. dite 28.5 29 ERYTHROCEBUS WHITEI, new species PLATE 2, SKULL Type—Skin and skull of adult male, Cat. No. 155340, U.S. N. M., collected on the Nzoia River, Guas Ngishu Plateau, British East Africa, September 30, 1908, by John Jay White. Diagnostic characters —Size large; hair of forward part of body long and shaggy, 175 mm. long at shoulders; back and shoulders grizzly cinnamon-rufous; black stripe from nose over eye and back- ward, forking to crown and ear; crown, rump, and dorsal stripe from middle of back to past root of tail dark, glossy bay; reddish of back extending down hind legs slightly more than half way to knee; fore arm creamy white. Color of type-—Nose, lips, and cheek beard cream; a black stripe from nose between eyes, turning outward over eyes, back from | corner of eye, and forking to crown and ear; crown patch dark chestnut bay ; spot in front of ear, nape, and back grizzled cinnamon- rufous; the long hairs of back cinnamon-rufous at roots, shading to bright bay on terminal half, with sub-apical band of buff and tip 12 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 of glossy black; shoulders with much more black, giving them a general grizzly appearance, the individual hairs with an extra ring of black. Lower neck and arm-pits white; arms below elbow and hands dirty creamy white. A dark stripe, from middle of back to tip of tail, cinnamon-rufous, richest and darkest on rump and root of tail, where it is pure glossy bay, and shading to pale ochraceous at tip of tail. Rump to callosities and down outer sides of legs slightly more than half way to knees glossy bay; outsides of legs and feet cream; inner sides of legs white; under side of tail cream. Long hair of sides pale cinnamon-rufous, with less black than above ; belly thinly haired, the hairs ochraceous to ochraceous-buff with white tips. Measurements of type-——Length of skin from nose to root of tail, 870 millimeters; length of tail (dry skin), 640. Skull: Greatest length, 149; condylobasal length, 120; zygomatic breadth, 99; length of nasals, 22.5; maxillary tooth row, exclusive of canines, 32. Erythrocebus whitet seems to be a very different animal from any of the previously described species. It differs from the plate of the type specimen of E. pyrrhonotus' in its grizzled back and shoulders, black lines over eye to ears and crown, dark bay frontal patch, and restricted markings on legs. From &. formosus it differs in the black brow line extending between eye and ear; hair of lower rump and back not yellow tipped, but black tipped, giving the whole back a very different color—cinnamon-rufous mixed with black, instead of yellowish; sides of neck and chest and outer sides of arms not lemon yellow. From &. baumstarki it may be distinguished by the general body color, dark grizzled cinnamon-rufous, instead of pale light red; distinct black forehead band and no white between eye and ear, and many other characters. . Several small groups of these red monkeys were seen on the Guas Ngishu Plateau, in the neighborhood of the Nzoia River. Two specimens were killed by the party; both single males shot from low trees. As usually seen, they were in parties of three or four to a dozen animals, traveling on the ground in open country, and were very hard to approach. ’ Geoffroy-St. Hilaire and Cuvier, Histoire Naturelle des Mammiferes, Tome 7, 1842. SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS 1. OUREBIA COTTON! Thomas 2,3. OUREBIA MICRODON, NEW SPECIES. TYPE Reduced about one-half SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56, NO, ERYTHROCEBUS WHITEI, NEW SPECIES. TYPE Reduced about one-halt Pap at SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOLUME 56, NUMBER 3 THE SCALES OF THE MORMYRID FISHES WITH REMARKS ON ALBULA AND ELOPS BY ie Ds A; CGOCKEREEL University of Colorado, Boulder, Colo. (PUBLICATION 193!) CITY OF WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION May 7, 1910 ‘| WASHINGTON, D.C. PRESS OF JUDD & DETWEILER, INC. 1910 oe THE SCALES OF THE MORMYRID FISHES, WITH REMARKS ON ALBULA AND ELOPS By 1D: A. COCKERELL UNIVERSITY OF CoLoRADO, BOULDER, Colo. The Mormyride constitute a remarkable family of Malacop- terygian fishes confined to Africa. The brain is of unusual size and the shape of the head is peculiar, in some forms being produced into a long snout, reminding one of an ant-eater. The Nile system is rich in these fishes, having no fewer than seven genera, as follows: Mormyrops (one species), Petrocephalus (4), Marcusenius (4), Gnathonemus (5), Mormyrus (4), Hyperopisus (one), and Gym- narchus (one). The last, Gymnarchus niloticus, constitutes a dis- tinct subfamily, having many peculiar characters, in consequence of which Giinther treated it as a distinct family, Gymnarchide. In Gill’s arrangement, published in 1872, the Mormyride and Gym- narchide constitute the Scyphophori of Cope, and are thought to be nearest related to the Gymnonoti (Gymnotide). It is now known, however, that the Gymnotids are really allies of the Characinide, and consequently little allied to the Mormyrids. According to Bou- lenger, the Mormyride appear to be nearest to the Albulidz, but it is recognized that the relationship is not at all close. Thanks to the kindness of Doctor Boulenger and the government of Egypt, I have received specimens of five genera of Mormyride proper and scales of Gymnarchus. ‘These fishes all have scales of the same general type; cycloid with well-developed circuli and with strong basal radii. ‘The truly remarkable feature is found in the apical radii, which are greatly modified and join irregularly, forming a network, as is well shown in the accompanying drawing by Miss Evelyn V. Moore (figure 1). The apex of the scale is usually broad and blunt, or even subtruncate, while the base is more pointed and narrower. The following key separates the scales examined: Scale elongate, much longer than broad Sealen nit cine cielo nical tern a oto coder tka are ie SeerNn? ac ve fhm ty) ea gala bie: 2 1. Scales near lateral line 7-7.5 mm. long, about 3.5 broad. Yellowish, sub- opaque, with the circuli extremely fine; reticulation of radii extend- ing down sides, the spaces often diamond-shaped; scales of dorsal REQUIM TMC StTMAller. 4 starry eieaslasfele oie/elaieie Gymnarchus niloticus SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS. VOL. 56, No. 3 a ee ee thee rte png Ape 2 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 Scales near lateral line about 3 mm. long, 1.66 broad, white, translucent, the circuli not so fine; nuclear area more central (River Nile at JASSIVATE) cc Klaas @2oo Gnerceioeeta eee etree ie erren ected Mormyrus kannume 2; Scales oblong, longer thanvbroad)(- ect. sole - er erate tere 3 Scales about as broad as long, obtusely subtriangular, about 2.5 mm. diameter, white; sculpture as shown in figure (Lahtn, Fayoum)... Petrocephalus bane Scales broader than long, very small, breadth 1.25-1.33 mm.; reticulation variable, but reduced (near Luxor)............. Marcusenius isidori 3. Scales larger, about 2 mm. long or a little over; about 12 basal radii; apical reticulation well developed (Fashoda)....Gnathonemus cyprinoides Scales smaller, about 1.33 mm. long; about 7 basal radii (near Luxor).. Hyperopisus bebe Fic. 1.—Petrocephalus Fic. 2.—Scale of Mormy- — Fic. 3.—Amia_ calva. bane (Lacep). Lahtin, rus kannume. Forsk. Plymouth, Indiana. Part Fayoum. of base of scale, showing longitudinal fibers which apparently correspond to the circuli of other fishes. Thus it is seen that, although there are good specific characters, the scales are in general of the same type, and are, so far as I know, very distinct from those of any other fishes. Gymnarchus, accord- ing to the scales, goes with the Mormyride. In view of the suggested relationship with the Albulidz, I was anxious to see scales of that family. Doctor Evermann has very kindly sent me scales of Albula vulpes, from Woods Hole, Mass. The scales come from just above the lateral line, under front of dorsal. It may be said at once that they show no resemblance to the Mormyrid scales whatever. They are large (about 15 mm. long and 13-14 broad), quadrate in form, opaque, yellowish, with three (rarely four) nearly parallel basal radii, which hardly extend to the middle of the scale, and which reach the margin at the ends of in- cisions, the base of the scale being coarsely scalloped with four NO. 3 SCALES OF THE MORMYRID FISHES—COCKERELL 3 (rarely five) lobes. ‘The circuli are extremely fine, and are mainly longitudinal, breaking into a roughened area apically, the whole structure of the circuli being extraordinarily like that of Ama calva. This is a matter of interest in connection with the known great an- tiquity of the Albulide. Another ancient family, placed next to the Albulide in the system, is the Elopide. Doctor Evermann kindly sends me scales of Elops saurus from Jamaica. They are also subquadrate, about 6 mm. diameter, with fine circuli which are complete basally, and here transverse, as in ordinary fishes, whereas A/bula shows in this region longitudinal strands consisting of minute segments. The basal structure of Elops is evidently more “advanced” than that of Al- bula—much more like that of Teleosts in general; that of Albula (except for the radii and the scalloping) differs little from Amia calva. Elops saurus has a variable number (about 12 to 22) of strong basal radii, which really do radiate from the central nuclear area of the scale, though failing centrally. The apical region of the Elops scale is very thin, and shows numerous parallel radii. Supplementary Note on the Scales of Hiodon. Since writing the above paper I have received through the kind- ness of Dr. S. Graenicher scales of Hiodon tergisus, from the St. Croix River, Polk County, Wisconsin. In Boulenger’s arrangement the Hiodontide, which are exclusively North American, follow the Mormyride. ‘The scales are large (about 12 mm. long and broad), with the nuclear area between 4 and 5 mm. from the apex. The circuli are excessively fine and numerous, the same all around, and of course transverse in the basal region. Rather numerous apical radii are indicated by obscure broken lines, easily overlooked. The basal radii are very distinct, irregularly placed, a group of seven or eight closely adjacent ones going to each sublateral concavity of the basal margin. The basal margin is not crenulate, and the basolateral angles are distinct. This is wholly diverse from Albula, very distinct from the Mor- myride, but not far from Elops. The silvery skin and minute pig- ment spots are quite as in Elops. Elops differs by the modification of the apical circuli, which in the subapical field become coarse, wavy, and transverse, actually at right angles to the lateral ones. 1Compare Tims on scales of Gadus; Quart. Journ. Micros. Science, Oct., 1905, pl. vi. See also the structure of apical radii in the Serranids Apsilus and Aprion, as figured by Sauvage in his work on the fishes of Madagascar. 4 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 The basal radii of Hlops are also much more regularly spaced, and the laterobasal angles are rounded. According to the scales, the four families considered are related thus: A. Albulidee. Bis nthiaent 1h Mormyride. b . f 1. Elopidee. 2. Hiodontide. A remarkable thing about the scales of Hiodon is their close re- semblance to those of certain old world Cyprinide. Comparison may be made, for instance, with Cyprinus carpio. The resemblance is such that, if the scales had come to me nameless, I should certainly have guessed them to be Cyprinoid. The Hiodontide cannot be directly related to the Cyprinidze, but I believe that they may stand close to the ancestors of the Characinide. I do not know a Chara- cinid scale similar to Hiodon, but, of all the South American Chara- cinids, I know scales of only two genera. prey} (PP AT f 4 Pt eres el, - ¥ Vy 4 Wihege a? J Oy oh tv > 5 | | eet ttm tai ai a i i SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOLUME 56, NUMBER 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS AND FOLK-LORE BY FERDINAND SCHMITTER Captain, Medical Corps, U. S. Army SBE INCRS (PUBLICATION 1933) CITY OF WASHINGTON _ ,PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION May, 1910 0 a = a4 ad z B 8 o 4 Ba A 8 mn Se > py 3° n n fe a IgIO UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS AND FOLK-LORE By FERDINAND SCHMITTER, Captain, Mepicar, Corps, U. S$. ARMY The Indians at Fort Egbert, Alaska, where I was stationed in 1906, are considerably modified by contact with white men, although many old customs remain as they were before the influences of civilization were felt. An Eagle Indian village of about 200 inhabitants, 3 miles above the post on the south bank of the Yukon River, proved of particular interest in my research and observations of native customs and folk- lore. ‘These Indians are classified as the Vuntakutchin people of the Athapascan family. My first inquiry was for a medicine-man, but I was informed that there was none now in the vicinity, all of them having died or left long ago. ‘They were very reserved on this subject and it was two years before I won their confidence, which I at last gained by treating their sick and showing sincere interest in their customs and mythology. One day I was told that a certain Indian named Luke was a good medicine-man. Accordingly, securing the services of the Indian Arthur as an interpreter, we visited Luke, who sheep- ishly admitted that he had been a medicine-man, but had given it up because the missionaries and police opposed the practice. After a brief conversation Luke became enthusiastic and boasted of his ability, making demonstrations which I will describe later. From medicine the conversation soon ran into folk-lore, with which he was intimately conversant. Arthur was of great service to me here, and later furnished most of the folk-lore which he secured from his father Simon and from the old folks of the village. Many of my notes in the present paper are left in their more or less crude form, so as to illustrate the native way of thinking; for, since they are intended as records of a people, they should remain as nearly intact as possible. In reading the stories one must not be annoyed by inconsistencies, for they are characteristic of the people. Their “because” clauses, for example, are about as satis- factory as those of a child. It will also be noted that most of their stories begin, “Iong time ago, when all animals were men,” fol- SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS. VOL. 56, No. 4 2 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 50 lowed with an account of certain animals which were evidently not men. For instance, when the bear goes out to hunt bear his daugh- ter puts on a bear-skin to deceive the hunter. Such oddities will be understood when it is realized that they are traditional or folk-lore. PSYCHOLOGY OF ‘THER NATIVE In order to properly appreciate native customs and stories one must be acquainted with the phases of their mental life, in which they are decidedly oriental. ‘They are fond of mystery and mys- ticism. ‘They have no idea of logic, but readily accept analogy and suggestion as proof of what they wish to believe, and in making inquiries one has to be careful not to ask leading questions, for they will answer in a way most convenient, with utter disregard of actual facts. Combined with their child-like simplicity is a cunning secretive- ness, prompting them to withhold information of any value, as, for instance, if one asks a native how to tan a bear-skin or where to hunt moose, his comprehension is apparently dulled by an assumed oriental ignorance, and in this state he imparts little information. Shyness is the chief characteristic of the females, resembling the form of insanity known as negativism, but it seems to disappear promptly after marriage. ‘The women hide at the approach of a stranger, and, when spoken to, conceal their faces, seldom answering a question, though they understand English well. The native believes in a rather concrete existence of dream life, and he sees spirits as if they were real creatures. Only the medicine- man has access to this dream life, and he alone can transfer animals from real to dream life and vice versa. One might assume from the tricks of the medicine-man that he is an impostor, but he is really sincere and believes in himself, although he has the faculty of believing what he must know “isn’t so’—the same faculty that we find among hysterics and adherents of various psychic cults. ANNUAL MOVEMENTS During the winter season they move about wherever game is plen- tiful. ‘“he men go to a place, cache their packs, and then proceed to hunt, ‘The next day the women come, pitch the camp, and prepare to cook. In the spring they go to the river bank, where they make canoes and nets in preparation for salmon fishing, and during the summer dry and cache large quantities of fish. In the early fall the entire family goes hunting and when a good supply of game is accumulated NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE, CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 3 they cache it on the spot. In October they return to the river for about two months, when they make snow-shoes, toboggans, and other things for winter use. About the middle of January they have a big time—‘“all same Christmas”—when they get out all their cached meat and bring it to the river. They stay there till the meat is nearly gone, and again go in search of game until the middle of March, when the weather moderates, at which time they return to the river banks. The native dog proves a most useful domestic animal during their migratory movements. Each man owns a team of about five dogs, employed in winter for pulling toboggans and sleds over the trails and in the summer for hauling boats up the river banks. For inland travel, when there is no snow, packs are tied over the dogs’ backs. Dogs are also used in hunting expeditions, as will be described later. There is no affection between dog and master. The animal is simply a beast of burden, never caressed, but thrashed unmercifully to se- cure obedience. ‘They are wolfish and snap viciously at any attempt to caress; in fact, they are generally three-fourths to seven-eighths wolf and always gaunt, being given very little food and left to pick their own living. They live outdoors, even in the coldest weather. With the thermometer 60 degrees below zero, I have seen them sleeping comfortably curled up in the snow, protected by their woolly hair, their heads hidden under their bushy tails. HABITATIONS These Indians formerly had no permanent dwellings, but lived in tents of caribou skin covering a wicker framework. There was a fire in the center of the tent, and the smoke escaped through a hole in the roof around the tent-pole. When they moved they took the skins with them, but left the frames, which are sometimes seen still standing where Indians have not been for many years. They are spoken of by prospectors as an “Indian sign.” Most of these people now live in roughly built cabins, usually with only one room, that serves for all purposes. The cabin is built of logs, the chinks packed with moss. The roof is of saplings laid side by side and covered with turf. The floor is laid directly on the ground. There is usually but one window, and this cannot be opened. The only ventilation is therefore from door to stove-pipe. A small iron stove, that requires much attention, serves for heating and cooking. A low home-made bunk in the corner or a mass of dirty rags on the floor usually comprises the sleeping quarters. 4 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50 Sometimes they have a rickety chair or two, but they seem to prefer to sit on the floor. Enamel ware and tin dishes constitute their dining outfit. DRESS The original native upper garment was the caribou-pelt “parka,” a combination of hood and coat reaching to the knees and without buttons or laces. It was pulled on over the head like a shirt, the hood generally hanging down the back and covering the head only in severe weather. Sometimes sealskin “parkas” were secured in trade from the lower river natives. As far back as any of the present inhabitants can remember, they have worn shirts made of calico which they say traders brought from New York. With the “parka” they wore a lower garment like the original pantaloons, a combination of trousers and stockings made of moose- skin from which the hair had been scraped. Moccasins were of moose-skin, with caribou-skin strings to lace and tie them on, and they were of generous size, so that grass or other soft material could be placed in the soles to protect the feet. The moccasins usually reached several inches above the ankle, al- though low slipper-like moccasins were also worn in camp. Large moose-skin mittens were made with gauntlet-like wrists, and these are now used and prized by the whites as an article of comfort. Most of the clothing now worn is that cast off by the white peo- ple. Although the skin parka and breeches are still frequently seen, they have been mostly replaced by canvas parkas and other white-man’s clothing. The natives, however, do not like shoes. Their moose-skin moccasins are continually wet in damp weather, causing constant headache, and they do not understand that the condition of the feet has anything to do with that of the head. They wear no head covering in summer, but marten or rabbit skin caps are worn in winter. The old method of hair dressing was to allow the hair to grow long and tie it in a bunch behind with a small bunch over each temple. Swan feathers were chopped fine and applied with grease to the rear bunch daily until it became a large mass. Another custom was to pierce the nasal septum and through it insert rings of small bones from birds. These ornaments were worn especially at dances or other ceremonies, and most of the adult natives still have these holes in their noses. Porcupine quills, which are used for decorating their clothing. were dyed red by boiling in cranberry juice, or blue by boiling in NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 5 huckleberry juice. When any quills were found which were pure white, they were left so. Various colored flowers were also boiled and their coloring matter used in dyeing the quills. Small geo- metrical figures were made by sewing the flattened-out quills to a backing of skin, and long stripes were made by rolling the quills into spirals about a sixteenth of an inch in diameter and sewing them side by side. The backs of mittens and insteps of the mocca- sins were decorated with these quills. Flat strings of caribou-skin one-fourth of an inch wide were sometimes wound with porcupine quills. ‘These strings were either sewed to, or tied about the coat wrists and about the breeches below the knees. The coat of a chief was decorated down the front and back, and had a special collar, significant of his office, which consisted of a strip of moose-skin about two inches wide and nearly a yard long with one margin fringed by cutting it into strips. On this was sewed strands, and strings of quills were suspended from the ends. The collar hung around the neck and down the front like a scarf. A special hunting belt was made of caribou-skin decorated with porcupine quills, and from it hung an ornamented moose-skin sheath containing a hunting knife. Moose-skin is prepared for clothing by the women. After soaking the skin in water to soften it, the hair is scraped off with the end of a sharp bone spatula. As in primitive times, all sewing is still done with bone awls, bones from the fore leg of the caribou or moose being used for coarse work, and for fine work a bone from the fore leg of the lynx or of a bird is used. The women do bead-work, which they sell to the local stores. These articles and other curios are sold to travelers. Moose-skin mittens are made for local use and are much in demand, as most white people hereabout wear them in winter. HYGIENIC CONDITIONS Early Habits—The Indians say that they had very little sickness before the advent of the whites, and George Matlock, who came to Alaska in 1885, and other old prospectors, confirm this statement. Smallpox and diphtheria struck them in epidemics, but they either died or soon recovered. As military hygiene teaches us, a moving command is a healthy command, and, as the Indians were formerly rovers, camping only for short periods, their wandering necessitated the abandonment of much infected material and localities, thus pre- serving their health. The survival of the fittest was also a factor ee ’ 4 \ 6 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS — VOL. 56 in preserving health, as illustrated by the following incident. ren few years ago some government packers were traveling from Fort Egbert to Tanana Crossing, and on their way they passed a camp which the Indians had just deserted, leaving behind a sick old woman and a crying baby, but no attention was paid to them, as it was supposed the Indians would return to get the woman and child. The packers on their return trip a few weeks later found the old woman and child dead, evidently left by the Indians to starve. Present Habits—A great change has taken place and conditions could scarcely be worse than they are now. They never wash more than their face and hands, and are consequently exceedingly filthy. Pediculosis and tuberculosis are ever-present indications of their unclean habits. Their cabins are as offensive as their persons. They have no methods of sanitation. Tuberculosis far outweighs all other ailments. On entering the village one notices everywhere evidence of tuberculosis in the forms of humpbacks, hip disease, scrofula, and consumptive cough. Very few natives can be given a complete physical examination without disclosing some evidence of tuberculosis. Tonsillitis, respiratory disease, digestive troubles, and myalgia are ever present. Diph- theria, according to hearsay, kills off many in occasional epidemics, but there have been no epidemics this year. Heretofore the natives have been in the habit of obtaining medicine free at the hospital, but it has been found expedient to charge a small fee for prescrip- tions. These natives are very undesirable patients; they all like to take medicine, but object to physical examinations. They strongly ob- ject to surgery and will permit it only under the most urgent cir- cumstances. The relatives of a boy with hip disease were advised to submit him for operation, but to this their only response was, “No cut; make well quick.” They will quite readily accept any magic methods, but modern surgery does not appeal to them. FOOD The native diet consists chiefly of fish, game, and berries. During July they catch king salmon, which they dry and keep for winter. At all seasons they hunt caribou, moose, bear, and mountain sheep. During the fall, when the caribou run in herds, the natives cache the meat for the cold weather. The other animals are scarcer, and when one is brought in it makes a treat for the village. It is cus- tomary, when one native is surfeited with meat, to give what is left NO. 4 ' UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER Wy to his neighbor. Ducks are also shot during the fall and spring and make a variety in diet. This meat diet is supplemented by the usual white man’s vegetables bought at the local stores. Their nearest approach to vegetable food.is the tuber attached to the root of a pennate-leafed weed that grows on the hillside in the shade of spruce trees in the midst of moss, through which the root extends a few inches, the tuber itself growing in the ground beneath the moss. It is six to nine inches long and from one-half to three-fourths of a inch thick, with fiber strands running through it. It has a slightly sweetish but indifferent taste. The natives originally ate it only when they could get no meat, though they say that it is quite palatable when boiled with grease. Huckleberries and cranberries grow in abundance on the moun- tain sides and are gathered in large quantities. ‘“Hootchinoo,” the native alcoholic drink, is made from huckleberries, by allowing them to ferment. Raspberries, strawberries, salmon-berries, and currants are also found in favorable localities. The Indians never eat dog meat or wolf meat; they would rather starve. Neither do they eat ravens, hawks, or eagles. They seldom eat wolverene, though they eat lynx and one kind of owl. These people have lately learned luxury to the extent that they think they are destitute when they have only animal food to eat, whereas, I am told, they never had anything but animal food ten years ago. A contrast to this particular tribe is found when the Mackenzie River natives visit here. “These live almost entirely on a meat diet, and are a robust, healthy people. FISHING AND HUNTING In July the salmon begin to run up the river, first the king salmon and later the dog salmon. The Indians prefer the latter, for they say the king salmon are too oily. ‘To catch salmon they generally use hand-nets which are let down to the bottom of the river in rather deep places. When the fisherman feels a pull he draws in the net, although sometimes the salmon pulls the Indian into the water. This method, however, is gradually being replaced by fish-wheels. The salmon are brought to the shore where the women, squatting at the water’s edge, dress and wash them in the flowing current, split them lengthwise, make transverse cuts about an inch apart through the meat, and put them on pole-racks to dry in the sun until ready for caching. White-fish is occasionally caught in the nets, and is even preferred 8 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL: 50: to salmon, which is the staple fish food. Greyling, a kind of trout, is also caught in the mountain streams, and is prized as a delicacy. The caribou, or Alaskan reindeer, is the staple winter food. Dur- ing the fall, when a run of caribou is expected, two long rail fences are built converging into a corral. Snares are placed in the fence about fifty yards apart and also thickly interspersed in the corral space where the herd is driven. ‘The Indians line up at the entrance and shoot with their arrows those that try to escape. Some are caught in the fence snares, but most are captured in the corral. The snare consists of a loop of strong braided moose-skin rope, the end tied to a loose log, the loop being held in place by small strings of caribou-skin that break easily. It is set in a natural opening through which it is presumed the animal will try to pass. As the caribou jumps through the loop the strings break, the loop tightens, and, thus caught, he tries to run, dragging the loose log after him, which soon exhausts him. If tied to something firm the rope breaks too readily ; hence a loose log is preferred. Moose are usually stalked and shot with bow and arrow, aim being taken behind the shoulder; but sometimes the dogs get a moose at bay and the Indians attack him with pikes. In the springtime the moose can be caught with snares set in a creek, the dogs chasing him down the creek into a snare. The Indians say that a moose once shot with an arrow never escapes, as they sometimes do after being shot with a gun, for, though they may run for some time, they will finally succumb and be caught. A pike or spear is nearly always used in hunting bears. The hun- ter attracts the bear by making a raven-like noise, causing the bear, as the Indians say, to think the raven has discovered a dead moose. They also further explain that the big bears only would come, as the little bears would not know what the croaking meant. As the bear approaches the Indian holds the spear in position, facing the bear as it draws nearer to him, and as the bear springs the Indian sticks the spear into its throat at the top of the breast-bone, at the same time shoving the handle of the pole into the ground, thus causing the bear to spear himself with his own weight. Sometimes three men hunt in this manner, two of them attacking the bear on either side as it rushes forward. The meat of the young bear killed in the fall, when they feed on huckleberries, is considered a great luxury. Grouse, ptarmigan, ducks, rabbits, owls, hawks, and other small game are killed with a dull, round-pointed arrow, sharp-pointed’ arrows being used only for big game. NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE, CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 9g The eagle cannot be shot with an arrow, but is snared. For this purpose a small fence having a snare at one side is built on a moun- tain peak and baited with a caribou lung. The Indians say that the eagle is very wary and will not go in at the top of the snare, but usually alights near it and inspects it carefully before entering, which he eventually does and is caught. COOKING Baskets for cooking are made of spruce roots, and, though they leak when new, they soon shrink and the crevices become filled with grease. Each Indian woman keeps near at hand during the winter a stone which is used in cooking, as follows: First it is heated in the fire, and when it is red hot the ashes are brushed off and the stone dropped into a basket of water, making it boil in about a minute. ‘These stones are hard to procure in the winter and are guarded most carefully. Sometimes birch-bark baskets are used, but, since they break easily, are of little service except for cooking and drinking utensils on a hunting trip. The spruce basket is pre- ferred, since it is collapsible and can be rolled into a small package. Meat is roasted by suspending it on a string from a cross-bar on two supports near the fire, where it is continually twirled until roasted. Salmon is cooked a little differently. Usually it is hung at rest with the flat inner surface toward the fire. Rabbits, ptarmi- gan, moose-foot, and other small things are roasted in a pit-oven, made by building a fire on the ground in the sand. After the fire has burned for some time it is brushed aside and a hole dug beneath it in the sand. The meat is placed in the pit, covered with hot sand or dirt, and over this the fire is rebuilt and kept burning until the roasting is finished. Ducks, geese, and swans are boiled in a large basket of water by means of the hot stone. NATIVE DEVICES AND IMPLEMENTS One method of starting a fire was by the flint and iron-pyrites method, in which a piece of flint fastened to a stick about three inches long was struck against a piece of pyrite to produce a spark. Punk to catch the spark was usually secured from a fungus growing on birch trees. ‘The Indian word in the Porcupine language for flint was “vetrih,” and pyrites “tshi tlya.””. Another method of fire- making was with the whirling stick. The stick was braced between the body and a piece of punk. A string was wound round the stick, TO SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 so that pulling would revolve the stick rapidly in either direction, starting a friction fire on the punk. They still have hammers made from a rounded stone fastened to the end of a stick with a string of caribou-skin. These are used to break up bones for cooking, and to make arrow-heads. My inter- preter has seen stone hammers in use, and he also says that stone axes for chopping down trees were used some time ago, although he never saw one. Hunting knives are made of bone ground flat and sharp on both edges, and they occasionally have copper knives of the same pattern, which were secured in trade from the White River Indians. One of their most useful weapons, the spear, was made by binding a hunting knife of caribou-horn to the end of a pole about 6 feet long. Birchwood is used for making bows, arrow-shafts, frames for fish-nets, snow-shoes, toboggans, and canoes, and their woodwork is nearly always painted with red ochre, which is secured from the banks of a creek near the village of Nation, about thirty miles down the river from Eagle. They say that this creek is red from the ochre, which can be gathered in handfuls from the mud in the swampy places along the banks. In former times this pigment repre- sented an important article of commerce, and was carried to a great distance and traded with other tribes. They used it also for painting their faces in the dances. “Babiche” is a tough string made of walrus hide, secured in trade from the lower river Indians and used for making snow-shoes and fish-nets. Arrow-heads are about five inches long and made of caribou-horn or bone, and bound into the split shafts with fine sinews. The natives still build a style of canoe characteristic of the upper Yukon. It is of birch bark, fastened to a frame by lacing with the slender roots of trees. The bark is fitted over the frame, and then about a dozen squaws hold a sort of sewing-bee, as they sit along the sides of the canoe and lace the bark through holes punc- tured along the edges by a sharp bone awl. The cracks are filled with pitch by the supervisor to make the canoe water-tight. This is a product entirely free from the influence of civilization. White men do not use them, because they tip too easily. NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER It AGRICULTURE The natives in this locality pay no attention to agriculture. There is excellent opportunity for it, but they have never been taught. About their village there is much more rich garden land than they can use. ‘he white people grow an abundance of potatoes, carrots, turnips, cabbage, cauliflower, onions, and other vegetables. One man raises wheat, barley, and oats. Ina single season a garden 100 feet square will yield five hundred dollars’ worth of vegetables (ac- cording to Alaskan prices). There are always a number of natives loafing around the village, many of whom are unable to hunt on account of age or consump- tion. To give them work in a garden would be an excellent hygienic measure. GOVERNMENT Under their primitive form of government the chief (ha-kkih) had despotic authority. He detailed hunting parties and dictated their duties, and when game was brought into camp he assumed charge of it, apportioning it out to whom he pleased. The chief of the Moosehide Indians near Dawson shows much of the pristine dignity and authority of his rank, and whenever he buys anything in Daw- son he does not carry it home, but sends an Indian after it. He shows his genteel extraction by always wearing a pair of fancy decorated gauntlets when he goes on a several days’ visit to Eagle during warm weather. During the absence of a chief, or when he is incapacitated, a patriarchal form of government exists, and all important measures are decided by the old men after holding the “big talk.” Public opinion is very strong and each individual has great respect for the opinion of the community concerning his per- sonal actions. For several years the chief of the Eagle Indians did not attend to public affairs on account of age and feebleness; hence the func- tions were carried on by the old men. At one time a chief from farther down the river came here and assumed to be chief, but he was never generally recognized as such and ended his career when he fled from the village and the police. Their life is somewhat communal, each family living by itself, but in a small tribe most of the families are inter-related. They occasionally marry into other tribes and sometimes children are adopted into a family. Joseph, the chief at Ketchumstock, has two boys which, it is said, were taken from Tanana when they were 12 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50 infants, and, strange to say, such kidnapping appears not to be con- sidered a serious offence. POLITICAL AND DOMESTIC ECONOMY The native idea of money value is very unstable. In this respect they are the victims of unfortunate circumstances. I am told that in 1808, during the gold rush, many natives were hired as pilots and guides at $10.00 per day. This gave them an exaggerated notion of the value of their labor, to which they cling tenaciously. The smallest piece of money current in any of the Alaskan stores is twenty-five cents, so the native regards a twenty-five-cent piece about the same as a laborer in the States regards a cent. An inci- dent will illustrate: I saw a white traveler take a picture of a native family and give the paterfamilias twenty-five cents as a tip, but he superciliously tossed it to his baby, considering it too trivial a reward for himself. The wages of a white man in this country average five dollars a day. ‘This compensates him for labor and things incidental to work- ing away from home. ‘The native has a keen appreciation of his own value and will not work for any less than the white. The lowest price usually assigned by a native to any piece of work is five dollars. I have seen one refuse to tan a small bear-hide (worth about $4.00) for less than five dollars, although in a few days his wife was seeking destitute rations. While these people will not come down from a set price, their failure to appreciate comparative values allows them to be cheated. The following incident will illustrate: A native had a pail of berries for which he wanted two dollars; a store-keeper offered him one dollar, which he refused. Then the store-keeper threw down three bars of soap, worth thirty cents, and offered them in trade, which offer was promptly accepted. The natives are very improvident. They will loaf continually in the summer, gathering no firewood for winter. In cold weather they will huddle together in a poorly heated cabin, and I have known them to tear down cabins for firewood and rebuild when summer comes. When they have much dry salmon in the summer they sell it to the stores, but when winter comes and they run short they buy it back at a higher price. NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER ES MARRIAGE An interesting old custom was that of the arrangement of mar- riages during the infancy of the children. The question was settled by the parents, who met in consultation and made all the arrange- ments for the prospective marriage, choosing for the girl a boy usually about three years older. Between the ages of 10 and 15 the boy left home to live with the girl’s parents, although they were not married until the boy was able to hunt and work. The boy be- came a part of his wife’s family and never returned to his own. Marriage usually took place between the ages of 16 and 20, but sometimes as late as 25 years of age. Although the agreement had been made by the parents of the intended bride and groom, yet their own desires were considered before the actual marriage took place, and they were not forced to marry unless they felt they were suited for each other. On the death of a wife or husband it was not customary for the survivor to remarry for several years, since the relatives of the de- ceased might think the survivor was glad of the other’s death. CEREMONIALS These Indians are quite strong in tradition, and no household event is passed over without ceremonious observances that usually take the form of “banquets,” given by the person immediately interested. Thus, at the birth of a child the father celebrates the event by giv- ing a dinner to the entire tribe. A similar banquet is given when the oldest boy kills his first bit of game, thereby attaining his ma- jority and proving himself a hunter. It is incident to the custom on this occasion for the youth to present a bird to the head man of the tribe, while his father also makes the chief a present in token of his esteem and pleasure at his son’s accomplishment. Corresponding to the feast in honor of the boy’s maturity, a simi- lar celebration is held when a girl arrives at the age of puberty. Everybody in the community is informed, and the girl’s father gives a dinner in honor of the event. The girl then goes about a mile from home, where she lives in isolation for a year under the care of a relative of her fiancé. She does not eat fresh meat during this year, and if she breaks the rule it is supposed to make the game few in number and hard to get during the ensuing year. As a pun- ishment, in case she violates this tradition, she is compelled to stay away for another year and wear a peculiarly fashioned cap in the 14 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50: form of a cape which extends to her knees. This is to prevent her from seeing any men, though she may talk to them. She may raise her cap only to do sewing or other work in her tent. This custom ~ is still in vogue, but the length of exile is usually cut down to a few months. A neighboring tribe has a custom of not allowing the girls to drink from anything but a special ceremonial drinking cup made of woven roots. This is not allowed to touch her lips; she drinks by making a gutter of the palm of her hand, through which she pours the water into her mouth. FUNERAL CEREMONY When a chief, ‘““Ha-kkih,”’ died, men were hired to burn his body, and what was left of bones and ashes was placed in a wooden recep- tacle hewn from a tree trunk and hung about ten feet high in a tree. The men who burned the body ate no fresh meat for a year, because, according to the law, if those who worked for a dead man should eat fresh meat within a year they would die. They could eat dried meat, but if there was none dried they must wait until some was made. It is an old tradition that when persons die they go into a woman and are born again as a baby. ‘The man is born again as a male and the woman as a female. They have no notion of transmigration into animals, believing that when an animal dies it is not born again as a man is. Last winter the Eagle chief died. He had hoarded up much wealth of skins, blankets, traps, rifles, and other property, and, since it is not customary among the Eagle Indians for relatives to inherit. the property of the deceased, his kinfolk received nothing of his belongings. By common consent Old Peter took charge of the ef- fects. It was then announced that there would be a “pot-latch” in the spring, when the goods of the deceased man would be given away. Invitations were sent east to the Moosehide Indians up the river, west to the Charlie Creek Indians down the river, and south over the hills to the Ketchumstock Indians. The Porcupine Indians to the north were not invited, because they were not related to the tribe. All the goods were kept intact in the caches until the arrival of the guests. Then Isaac, the Moosehide chief, took full charge of the ceremonies, which lasted several days, during which there was much feasting and dancing. At the dinners, the men first gorged themselves, allowing the women to come in after they had finished and take what was left. Between the ceremonies they assembled NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 15 in groups about the village and gossiped or sung to tunes resembling those of Japanese operas. Time was kept by one of the Indians - beating upon a caribou-skin drum, while everybody swayed to the time, alternately bending the right and left knee. For the final cere- mony a fence about seven feet high was built about an enclosure thirty by sixty feet. The “pot-latch” proper was held in this enclos- ure during one afternoon, and the people sat about near the fence facing the goods of the deceased, which were displayed at one end by Chief Isaac, who stood in their midst and presided. The first hour of the ceremony was very much like a church meeting, all talking in their native language. The chief then opened with a speech, and when he sat down others rose and spoke as the spirit seemed to move them, apparently eulogizing the great chief. At times the speaker became much wrought up, his gestures showing that he was illustrating a fight with an animal. After the speech- making the goods were distributed one article at a time. The chief would pick up a blanket, walk down the center of the assembly, and with a few remarks toss it to some one, the recipient smilingly responding with brief remarks. Articles were only given to the visitors; the Eagle Indians received nothing. After watching the ceremony several hours, I was about to leave when the chief called me and handed me a pair of moose-skin moc- casins, saying, “This is because you were good to my people.” Next day the food became scarce, so the visitors began to depart for their homes, their toboggans laden with goods from the deceased chief’s cache. NAMES A few of the most important Indian names have been given in the previous paragraphs under other subjects. The Eagle Indians themselves are called “kkwi dyik” in their own tongue. In the Porcupine language they are called “vun tte kwi chin,” which means “the people of the Willow Creek,” since they came from what is now known as Charlie Creek, where willows abound and from which the creek was named by the natives. Individuals were given names from incidents of their infancy. Olid Simon’s name, “Da Hoch,” meaning white blood, was chosen from the fact that he had a suppuration in one of his eyes since infancy. ‘The Indians are generally known to the white people by Biblical names which missionaries gave to them. 16 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50 SIGNS AND SYMBOLS The Indians do not write, but make signs of one sort or another, a few of which follow. The sign a drawn in the snow means a moose in the direction of the end of the line to which the head is attached. The sign 5b in the snow means caribou on the mountain in the direction of the straight line. Along a trail, where it divides, if one sees a leaning pole with grass tied to the end, it means no “grub” in that direction, or a pole with willow tied to the end means plenty of “grub.” GAMES The Indians had an outdoor game similar to volley-ball in which several took part. A ball the size of a baseball, made of caribou- skin stuffed with hair, with a marten tail attached, was used in this game. A party of about ten Indians would take up their position on each side of a line, batting the ball with bare hands from one side over the line to the other, and every time the ball touched the ground it counted against the side on which it fell. The boys had a game that not only furnished sport, but gave them practice in throwing the spear as well. One person would roll a hoop made of willow before a number of Indian boys standing in a row, each with a long spear-like stick, which he threw at the hoop as it rolled past him, and when one went through the hoop it counted as a caribou killed. For an indoor game they had one which is not uncommon nowa- days. In this game the men sit on the ground with their legs arched in front of them and the women sit tailor fashion, each person having a cloth similar to a handkerchief. Any small article is started down the row; the men pass it under the knees and the women pass it behind their backs, the object being to conceal the article in the cloth or stealthily pass it on without being caught. It was the duty | of one to catch a person with the article in his possession. Men and women sit separate in rows opposite each other and watch the other sex play the game. The nearest approach to gambling among the natives is an old game, the rules of which are as follows: Two rows of men sit oppo- site one another, each man holding in his hand a bone marked with a NO. 4. UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCH MITTER WG notch. ‘The bones are secretly passed from right to left and vice versa. Some one on one side would call out which of the opponents’ hands contained the bone, and the calling side would get as many sticks, from a pile of about sixty, as the number of opponents’ hands guessed correctly. Each side called the other alternately. Some- times they would hold another unmarked bone in the opposite hand so as to confuse the guesser. The side which lost or got the fewer sticks had to give the other something as a forfeit. They wrestle “catch-as-catch-can,” but they usually try for a hold in the following manner: Putting the right arm around the oppo- nent’s waist and grasping the breeches at the thigh with the left hand. It is only necessary to throw a man, for as soon as he falls he is beaten. As a mark of friendship on separating, after this sport, the Indians exchange coats or other articles of clothing re- gardless of their value. THE MEDICINE-MAN The word “medicine” should be understood as synonymous with “magic.” ‘The medicine-man does not administer potions, but cures by other methods; thus, “make medicine” is synonymous with per- form magic; hence, his aid is sought for more purposes than healing the sick, and he can perform to defeat the enemy, to overcome famine, or to make a prospective hunting trip successful. When a man is sick he calls in this Indian ‘doctor, who sings to drive away the disease. Each medicine-man has his own way of singing, though the general form is a chant like those used in dances, in which words are sometimes used, but generally meaningless syllables. The medi- cine-man goes to sleep and dreams songs, and what he hears in the dream he repeats as an incantation over the sick one. When Luke, one of these medicine-men, now perhaps forty years old, was a little boy, about 500 Indians encamped in skin houses about a mile up Mission Creek were taken with smallpox and most of them died. ‘The remnant of the band migrated to Forty Mile, where they were attacked in 1897 by an epidemic of coughing and bleeding from the lungs, and many died in from four to six days. The Indians think that each of these epidemics was due to a bad medicine-man from elsewhere sending an evil spirit amongst them. The evil spirit was supposed to enter the man’s body in the form of an animal and, by moving about in him, produced sickness. It seems the medicine-man is still able to do this by taking a weasel skin and causing it to disappear in various ways. Sometimes he * on - alts 18 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 50: holds it in the fire, whence it disappears without being destroyed, going into its victim; or the weasel skin may be caused to disappear by wrapping it in a cover or holding it between the palms and blow- ing a puff of breath on it. A medicine-man tried to demonstrate this to me, but the skin did not disappear, though I was assured that it would disappear in actual practice. ‘The weasel was called a “‘fetich,’ and this name applies to other animal skins used in the same manner, such as the marten and wolf, or, in fact, whatever animal the medicine-man sees in his dreams and wishes to employ in his practice. ‘The skull and claws are some- times removed from the skins, but generally are left on. Formerly they were ornamented about the neck and mouth with porcupine quills, but more recently with glass beads. Although a skin is still most popular, there are many other fetiches in use. A beaver’s tooth, wound with beads and suspended on a string, is a useful fetich, and is made to disappear and reappear at the convenience of the medicine-man. Small bones are decorated and used in the same manner. A great many medicine-men dig a certain kind of root from the ground which they carry about in their pockets. It appears to be alive and at times grows larger or smaller. Some medicine-men employ the sun, moon, or stars in their songs instead of an animal, while others call upon the trees, birds, brush, or any convenient object. ‘The good medicine-man works in the opposite way from a bad one; he cures a sick man by drawing the weasel skin out of the ailing part. I was shown how it was extracted from the ribs, neck, or head. With the skin concealed up his sleeve, or hidden in his clenched hand, the medicine-man reached to the affected part, whence he jerked it forth in the twinkling of an eye. Sometimes in sickness, when all the friends are assembled to assist the medicine-man in singing, he will brush the affected part with his hand as he sings until, with a puff of breath, he blows the disease away. At other times he will firmly grasp at something invisible and appear to pull it out and throw it into the air, driving it away with a puff of breath. ‘The medicine-man, after extracting the evil spirit, returns to the animal its own spirit and sends the evil spirit back to its original sender, whom it kills, because he sent it first. Whenever a sick man dies the bad medicine-man takes back the evil spirit, and these spirits, which he sees only in the form of ani- mals in his dreams or when he sings, are kept for future use. It is believed that a stronger medicine-man can kill a weaker one’s ani- NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCH MITTER 19 mal, thus stripping the latter of his power, who thus becomes like any one else and liable to destruction by the stronger one. If a man wants to become skillful in magic healing he goes to sleep in the same blanket with a medicine-man. When they are asleep and dreaming he is taught the medicine by his instructor. The medicine-man, however, is disinclined to teach others, because he is apt to lose his power and since a stronger one could kill him. A bad medicine-man likes to kill, but a good medicine-man always wants to cure, and it is said the good are apt to live longer. Their treatment of wounds is most interesting. If a wound bleeds profusely, the medicine-man gets a piece of king salmon skin the size of the palm and cleans it of scales. He takes this between his palms and has another Indian hold his hands together for security ; then, as the medicine-man blows, the salmon skin disappears, going into the wound, where it forms a membrane and stops the bleeding. This is extracted again when the wound is healed. This method is also employed when there is a pain but no bleeding. An odd test used in case of sickness is to put a frog on top of the man’s head; if the frog soon jumps away the man dies soon, but if the frog remains on his head for any length of time the man will live a long time. Last winter one of the Indians had severe tuberculosis, bronchitis, and pleurisy, for which I treated him, unaware that he was a medi- cine-man, and during the spring he recovered. He has since confided to me that his illness was caused by a bad medicine-man from “Tanana,”’ who sent the quill of a large eagle feather that entered into him and caused his sickness. He insisted that he extracted this quill in the presence of several witnesses, thus defeating with his magic the machinations of his enemy and curing himself. One of the witnesses assures me that this actually happened. Disease is not always the result of the medicine-man’s evil spirit, but sometimes comes of itself, so the Indians have certain actual medical remedies. If they have a cough they chew grass roots or spruce bark to stop the illness, and sometimes the old women boil bark, roots, and brush to make tea, which is drunk for all forms of illness. Originally many kinds of bark were infused in the same mixture, making a sort of general remedy, for it seems probable that the specific use of these herbs was not acquired until later from the whites; at least the medicine-man never used them or any other drug, his practice being limited to psychotherapy. In war times the medicine-man performs his magic against the joe ' | 20 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 enemy. In experiments of this nature a medicine-man uses for a fetich two pebbles, a few inches in diameter, with natural holes in them, tied to the ends of a string about a foot long, made of caribou- skin wound with porcupine quills. In demonstrating the use of the pebbles, the magician pointed to an imaginary enemy in the dis- tance and, assuming an attitude of forward charge, his countenance showing fierceness and his eyes the glassy, vacant stare of the mys- tic, he suspended the pebbles by the middle of the string, swung them forward three times, blew on them a puff of breath, and with full strength threw them toward the enemy. Immediately relaxing, with a smile of satisfaction, he said, ‘“They run.” INFLUENCE OF CIVILIZATION There is an Episcopal mission at the village which most of the natives attend faithfully. It is their principal form of diversion from lying about in their squalid cabins. Strange as it may seem, the most stupid ones and those who cannot speak English make the better church-goers, while those who are more intelligent and can talk English associate with and come under the influence of the saloon loafers. Accordingly, the few crimes I have known to be committed by the natives were by the most intelligent members of the community. Even the bad Indians go to church, though they are hypocritical. I have seen a native take communion, get medicine from the hospital as a destitute, and a few days later offer a white man five dollars to get him some whiskey. These people have learned to be charity-seekers and the church, it seems to me, maintains a weak influence over them by doling out charity. This is undesirable, for charity is not necessary, since there is opportunity for them to be self-supporting provided they are properly taught occupations and to despise instead of to seek assistance, In view of these conditions, a Government official should be ap- pointed or detailed to teach the natives agriculture, to act as a health officer and to compel them to live in a sanitary manner, to supervise the care of the sick, to establish a commissary where they may buy at moderate prices, to act as police, and to make further recommen- dations for their benefit. fen NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 21 FOLK-LORE The following stories were collected from various individuals, and are pre- sented, as nearly as possible, in the style of the narrator: CREATION OF THE WORLD Long time ago the water flowed all over the world. There was one family and they made a big raft. They got all kinds of animals on the raft. There was no land, but all water, and they wanted to make a world. The man of the family tied a rope around a beaver and sent him down to find the bottom, but the beaver didn’t reach bottom; he got only half way and drowned. The man then tied a string around a muskrat and sent him down; he reached bottom and got a little mud on his hands, but he drowned. The man took the mud out of the muskrat’s hands into his palm and let it dry, then crumbled it to dust. This he blew out all over the waters and it made the world. (All tribes about here are said to have the same story.) ORIGIN OF THE WIND A long time ago, when all animals were men, there was no wind. There was a bear that used to go about with a bag on his back. Many people were curi- ous to know what was in the bag and they often asked the bear, but he would not tell them. One-day another man caught the bear asleep with the bag on his back. The man’s curiosity to know what was in the bag was so great that he cut it open. The bag contained the wind, which then escaped and has never since been confined. THE OLD MAN AND OLD WOMAN In the Yukon River between Eagle and Fortymile there are two large rocks which evidently were one before a geological cataclysm separated them. The natives call the one on the north side the “Old Man,” and the one to the south the “Old Woman.” ‘These were the primogenitors of the Indians in this region. The story follows: These two old folks were once together in the middle of the river, but the old woman pushed the old man to the other side because he left her there. So he went north and she went south, but the children grew up around there. At that time this region was full of all kinds of animals, and they could talk like men. The old man killed off all the bad animals and saved one good one of each kind, which started the families. They have since been unable to talk. The moose was the head game of the world, because the old man killed the bad moose first. The big swan was once the head of all birds and animals because it was stronger. All animals came together and had wrestling matches. The little teal duck was the strongest animal in the world. First the swan beat the moose, but the teal duck beat the swan after the swan had conquered all others. ADVENTURES OF THE OLD MAN The “Old Man” (rock) in the Yukon went down the river where the bear, when bears were men, was fishing. He put his canoe on this side of the river where no one could see it from a point above where the bear was. Then he made a circuit on foot around the bear and reached the river lower down. 22 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 The old man then swam up the river, like a king salmon, to the bear’s house, where the bear was spearing salmon. ‘The bear tried to spear him for a salmon, but he grabbed the spear point, broke it off, and swam to his canoe and hid the spear point under the bow. Having disarmed the bear he now knew that he was safe. So he got in his canoe and went down to the bear’s house to call. He concealed the fact that he had broken the bear’s spear, but the bear believed that he did it, nevertheless. ‘The bear wanted the old man to marry his daughter. ‘The bear pointed to a mountain about a mile away, where there was no timber, and said that it was a good hunting place for bear, since a bear came up there every day. ‘The old man went to the woods to get material to make some arrows. ‘The bear had everything fixed dan- gerous about there, so that when a man touched a tree stump it would fall on him. The old man was cautious and would touch a stump and dodge when it fell. ‘Then he secured the wood for arrows from the fallen stump. Now he wanted some feathers and the bear took him to a place said to be good for getting them. Here were big eagles that would kill ment The old man went to an eagle’s nest in a big tree, where there were two young ones. He asked them which one could talk most. One said that he could talk most, and would tell the father and mother eagle about everything, so the old man killed him so that he couldn’t tell. He asked the other young eagle how he knew when his mother was coming, and was told that she always followed a gust of snow. He asked when the father eagle came, and was told that he always followed a gust of hail. Then the old man hid under the nest with his spear. Then came the snow and the mother eagle appeared, carrying the upper half of aman. She asked the young one, “Where is your brother?” and he said, “It was too warm here and he went down where it was cool.’ She said, “I smell something here; what’s the matter?” ‘The young eagle said, “You smell that half a man;” but the mother eagle said, “I smell something different.’ Then the old man under the nest speared the mother eagle, piercing her from belly to crop. Then came the hail, and the father eagle followed and asked the same questions as the mother. He said to the young one, “Where is your mother?” and the young one answered, “She went down to look for brother.” The father eagle brought with him the lower half of the man. ‘Then he said, “I smell something,” and the young one replied the same as to his mother. The old man was watching from under the nest, and he speared the father eagle too. This father eagle would kill any man he saw. ‘The old man saved the young one. He got enough feathers to make his arrows. When he came back the bear said, “You're all right,’ which he always said. The old man wanted some pitch to stick the feathers to the arrows. ‘The bear, as usual, led him to a dangerous place, where he told the old man there was plenty of pitch. Here the old man found a lake of pitch boiling like water. The old man wouldn't go near it, but took a long willow switch and dipped it into the lake. With this switch he threw the pitch all over the spruce trees about him. ‘The spruce | trees theretofore had never yielded pitch, but have done so all over the world ever since. Then the old man gathered enough pitch from a spruce tree and | returned. Now he wanted sinews to bind the feathers and heads to fhe sticks } of his arrows. The bear led him to a moose lick where there was a bad moose. The moose didn’t have much flesh, but was mostly bone and skin. His hide had such i] stiff hairs that it was hard for an arrow to penetrate. This moose would kill NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS-—SCH MITTER 23 every man he saw. ‘There was lots of high grass about there and the old man crept up to the moose on hands and knees through the grass, keeping out of sight of the moose. When the old man got near the moose he stopped and wished for a mouse to come along. He told the mouse to go to the moose and chew the stiff hair off behind the left shoulder. The mouse went to the moose and asked to chew the hair off behind the left shoulder, to use for his nest to keep the young warm. The moose refused, but told him he could chew the hair from his hind quarter. ‘he mouse insisted that he wanted the hair from behind the left shoulder because it was soft and warm. So the moose allowed him to take it. As soon as the hair was off, the old man shot the moose through this spot into the heart, killing him. Then the old man got his sinew from the spinal ligaments of the moose. ‘Then he returned to the bear camp and finished making the arrows. The old man made the arrows with birch-bark heads because the bear said the birch bark was the best. The old man knew that this was false, but he did it to please the bear. The bear said that upon the mountain where there is no timber a bear came every even- ing, and that the old man could get it. The bear was accustomed to kill men by this ruse. He set his daughter up there dressed in a bear skin, and when a man came near she would hold him till her father bear killed him. ‘The old man concealed bone arrow-heads in the back lock of his hair before starting. The old man and the bear started out to hunt bear. ‘The bear said, “Walk slow” but the old man ran away. As soon as the old man approached the hill he saw the other bear and shot twice with his birch-bark pointed arrows, but they didn’t penetrate. The bear when hit, instead of running away, as ordin- arly, came toward the old man, who pulled the bone arrow-head out of his hair and shot the bear with it. He now saw it was the bear’s daughter, for she hollered, “Father, that man hurt me.” The bear said to her, “Catch hold of him,” and as she tried to catch him she died. Then the old man ran away and the bear chased him all day. Then the old man ran into Ford’s Lake. (Calico Bluff, six miles below Fort Egbert, on the Yukon, is called “Long Point” Clavath, pronounced “Klay-vay,” and Ford’s Lake, near by, is called Clavath- mon, meaning Long Point Lake.) The bear couldn’t catch the old man, so he told the frog to drink all the water in the lake, and the frog drank it all. As soon as the water was gone the old man burrowed into the mud. ‘The bear went all around digging in the mud to find the old man. As soon as he got near the old man, the old man wished for a snipe to come along and it came. He asked the snipe to go and hit the frog twice in the belly. The frog asked the snipe, “Did some one ask you to come?” The snipe said, “No, I am hunting for something for my chil- dren to eat.’ As soon as the snipe got near the frog he hit it twice in the belly and flew away. Then the water all ran back into the lake. The bear now was angry, and made a fish trap, which he put in the creek, from Ford’s Lake to the Yukon River, to catch the old man. The old man knew this and made a mud man, which he pushed ahead of him, swimming down the creek. The mud man went into the trap, the bear pulled it up, and the old man swam down to the Yukon and down to the bear’s house below Calico Bluff, where he got his canoe and went down the Yukon, and the bear never saw him any more. 24. SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 THE MIRACULOUS LITTLE MAN Long time ago, before the “Old Man” and “Old Woman,” lots of Indians were together and they fought until all were killed except an old woman and her daughter. This old woman cried every day because there was no man to help her do her work or get her wood. Every day when she had to get her wood from the brush she cried, and each day she had to go a little farther for the wood. One day she heard a sound like a baby crying in the woods. At first she did not go to see what it was, but told her daughter, for she knew there were no people there. Her daughter said, “Next time you hear it; go to it, and if you find a baby bring it.” She went for wood again and heard it, and going to it she found a baby boy at the foot of a spruce tree. The boy was not born, but found by the old woman in the brush. When she brought it mother and daughter rejoiced, for bye and bye they would have a man. As soon as they got him home he became strong and could work. As a joke the old woman told him to take their dog and go out hunting, thinking that he didn’t know how. She told him to tie a rope around the dog’s neck. He tied it on the dog, then went out hunting, and on the way he pulled so hard that he choked the dog and dragged it back with him. The old woman still had friends in another place. So she and her daughter and the little man went amongst these Indians again. The boy was small and didn’t grow. When he went hunting he would put on an eagle-skin like a coat and fly. He was a pretty good hunter. People asked him, “How do you cut moose with a knife? You are too small.” He said that when he kills a moose he is like a big man, but is small when he comes home again. He does all miracle work. He does not bring his eagle-skin home again, but leaves it two miles away on a tree. The daughter found the eagle-skin and took one tail feather to stick in her hair. The boy found it out and was angry, so he said to his sister, “I wish all your friends would be killed again.” ‘Then she said, “What are you going to do with your mother?” (the old woman), and he said, “T will put her in the corner of the birch-bark basket.” In a little while war came and all were killed except the old woman and the daughter and the little man. Then the little man made lots of very small arrows and made a few from a bear’s ribs. He worked all the winter making these arrows, because he was going to fight the people all by himself. These people who killed his friends lived by a big lake. The old woman was with the little man, but the daughter had been captured by these people. He got lots of bags for arrows, and, being small, he walked under the snow and hid a bag of arrows about every 50 yards apart, so that when he shot away his arrows in fighting them he could run back to get some more. When he came near, the people thought that he was a raven because he was such a small black thing. His sister said, “You people didn’t kill the little man with the old woman.’ There was one man who wasn’t in the fight, so he was selected to kill the little man. The man took a small stick to kill the little man, thinking it would be easy, but the little man threw a small object at him, striking him in the chest and killing him. Then all the people, thousands in number, ran after him without their arrows, because he was too small to shoot. He ran back the same trail on which he came. He would come out of his hole and shoot some; they would rush after him, and back he would go and come up elsewhere and shoot again. Every time he shot he killed. He killed all those people in a day. He brought his sister back to the old woman at home. NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 25 After the fight he said he would make a big pot-latch (a celebration with feasting and giving of presents), because he had wounded and killed lots of people. Then he went hunting every day, and killed all kinds of game and saved the hide and meat. The mother and daughter tanned all the skins, dried the game and cached it. The little man said he was going to give the skins as presents to other people. The old woman said, “All the people are killed, so who can you give them to?” and he said, “Bye and bye lots of people will come.’ This was on a big island just this side of the Old Woman rock. When he collected his meat and fur he began to sing every day that he wished that lots of people would come from up and down the river to the pot-latch on the island, and'they came without being told. They all moved about together and sung as usual at a pot-latch. When they did it the island cracked in two parts, because too many people were on it. The people feasted every day. After the feasting he gave away all kinds of skins and furs. He made the big time because he killed lots of people and was sorry for it. He killed the people because they killed his friends first. THE BOY IN THE MOON. See the mark in the middle of the moon like a man? That was a little Indian boy when nobody had anything to eat. During the famine this boy dreamed that they were going to kill lots of caribou. The boy said that when they killed all the caribou he wanted the leader caribou. The boy’s uncle gave him the wrong caribou, because the uncle did not believe the boy dreamed it. Then the boy cried for two nights beacuse he didn’t get the right kind of caribou. The boy told his father, who brought home the hind quarter of caribou, to never cut the flesh off it to the bone, but to cut off what he needed, wrap it in a skin, and put it under his head to sleep on. The father did this and when he awoke he found a whole hind quarter, and thus forever he could eat caribou from this leg and always have it whole. Next night the boy, who always slept between his father and mother, was gone and nobody could find him. The boy wore marten-skin pants. In the morn- ing the left leg of the pants was found on the tent-pole where the hole is in the roof for the fire. Hence they concluded that he went up through the hole and the left pants’ leg was torn off going through. He went up to the moon and was seen there the next night, and it was proved, for he had a larger right leg than left, because the right leg has pants on. From his right hand hangs a little round bag with the wrong caribou meat in it. That night a big storm came and snowed all over where the caribou was cached. Then all the killed caribou came to life and went away, and the Indians couldn’t find their meat. Then they all starved to death except the boy’s father and mother. During the fall and winter with clear sky, one who has been properly instructed can readily make out the outline of this boy in the moon. THE CAMP ROBBER The camp robber is a slate-colored Alaskan jay, well known for its habit of stealing food from camps. When all animals were men the camp robber was a medicine-man. One time the people had nothing to eat, and they asked the medicine-man to get them some food. For six nights a different man each night dreamed to find a way to get something to eat. ‘The camp robber was the last and sixth man. a oe oe ee 26 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 He dreamed and called all the people together to bring their snares with them. He made a pack of the snares and put them on his back. The people made the snow in a big heap. Around this he went, chanting and saying, “Bye and bye meat will come.” ‘Then he reached into the snow heap and pulled a caribou’s head out by the horns. He did not kill it, for it was not a real caribou; only a spirit. So he painted the horns and tail red, with red ochre, and let it back into the snow heap. Next day they got lots of caribou, and the one with red horns and tail was amongst them. That is why an Indian never kills a camp robber when he steals grub, but lets him go because he helped them in the days when he was a medicine-man. THE RAVEN The raven lies more than any other game. Long time ago all the animals were good except the raven. He was an habitual liar and robbed everybody. Whenever he found dead game he ate the eyes first. Once when the raven was like a man he came to a strange camp and told a man to kill his old dog and throw it into the river. The man did so. Then the raven followed the dog down the river and pulled it out and ate its eyes. Thus he went from camp to camp as a deceiver. THE RAVEN RESTORES THE SUN TO THE SKY The raven was the cleverest deceiver of all animals, but has one good deed to his credit. At this time, when all animals were men, a bear, who was a bad man, did not want the people of the world to have light, so he took the sun down from the sky and hung it with a string on his neck and kept it covered with his coat. The raven came to his house and pretended to be a friend, and soon married the bear’s daughter. They very soon had a child who could walk as soon as born, and grew up in a very short while. The raven told the boy to get the sun from the bear, so the boy cried for it very much and finally the bear allowed the boy to play with it, but watched him carefully. There was no hole in the roof, but the raven made one, and when the bear’s attention was away for a moment the boy threw the sun up through the hole into the sky and the bear couldn’t get it any more. The raven then ran away and never came back, for the bear would like to kill him. THE RAVEN AND THE COOT (MUD HEN) The raven wanted all the birds to look nice and he painted them with their various hues. He painted the coot last. The coot was then in turn to paint the raven, who wanted to be very richly variegated with colors. The coot was painting the raven gorgeously with his right hand, but had charcoal concealed in his left hand. Then, for a joke, while the raven’s attention was away, he smeared the raven all over with charcoal. The raven was angry and chased but couldn’t catch the coot, so he grabbed and threw a handful of white mud, spattering it over the coot. That is why the coot has white spots on his head and back. The coot flew away and the raven has remained black ever since. THE WOODPECKER The woodpecker was a very domestic sort of a man-bird. He used to get married lots of times. When he would get married he would go away from NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCHMITTER 27 the people with his wife. After a while he would come back without his wife. He would say that she died. Then he would get another wife. One girl was very smart, so she married him to find out what he did with his wives. They went away together. When he found a good hunting ground he stayed there. ‘Whatever game he got he only gave fat and grease to his wife and ate the meat himself. Whenever she wanted a drink of water he gave her grease to drink. Every time he went hunting he took about ten days, and brought back fat and grease and blueberries and cranberries and all kinds of berries, but no meat. The girl knew by this that he was going to make her so fat that she couldn’t walk, for already when she would lie down she could hardly get up- Then, before he went hunting again, at her request, he prepared a dugout on the bank of a creek. She told him she was lonesome and wanted to be where she could see the creek running. This dugout was to be her home while he was away. The door was covered with brush. She told him to make a small, sharp spear for her, so she could keep the mice away with it. As soon as her husband went she took the spear and dug a tunnel from the dugout to the creek for her escape, for she knew he would kill her when she became very fat. She was too fat to walk, so she rolled down to the creek through the tunnel, and stayed in it a whole day, until the fat came off from her. Then she went into the woods and watched till her husband came back. As he ap- proached she saw that he was picking a lot of berries. When he reached the dugout, where the hole was covered with brush for concealment, he ran his spear through the brush so as to kill her; but she wasn’t there. Every time he jabbed the spear in and withdrew it he tasted of the point to see if it stuck her. Then he said aloud to himself, “Some spirit must have taken her away.” The woman now was sure that he wanted to kill her, so she ran away back to her family. She told them all about it, saying that he killed his wives and ate them, and that he fed them berries to flavor their meat. The man came back then. His wife’s mother previously put her in a sack and hid her. He cried much, pretending to be sorry for the death of his wife. He said to the mother, “My wife has died again.” Everybody else cried, to deceive him into thinking they believed him. Next day everybody moved again. The old woman gave him a heavy sack to pack along and told him it belonged to his brother-in-law, who needed it. She told him to hang it high on a tree,so the dogs couldn’t get it. She told the other men not to help him lift it up. He tried so hard to lift it up that he broke his back-bone. When the man was injured nobody took care of him. The hunting party went away without him. When they returned and saw that he was sure to die, they let him see his wife, so that he would know that he was found out. His wife was in the sack. Her mother then arrived with other Indian women, untied the sack, and let her out, and she was safe. He died then. They pre- ferred to let him kill himself in this way. THE ROBIN The robin had a husband, but she loved another man. She had a family of four—a husband, son, daughter, and self. When she sat on a tree she would laugh. Because she loved another man, she wanted her husband and son to die, so that she and her daughter could live with this man. Every time she sang she would say, “I wish my husband and son would die,” then she would laugh. Then she would say, “I wish I and my daughter would live,” then she 28 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 would laugh. Her husband did whatever she said, and he died. The boy died too. Her husband and son died because she wished them to die. She wished this, so she could get the man she wanted. The native still chants the words in his own language, meaning, “I wish my husband and son would die,” to the tune of a robin whistling. The laugh - referred to is the clattering noise which a robin makes when excited. THE MARTEN The marten has a white or reddish bridge across his breast. Whenever he was in an Indian camp and they were sitting around the fire eating he always looked hungry and watched every one eat, looking greedily for something for himself. One Indian didn’t like being ogled, and threw a chunk of king salmon grease which struck him on the breast and made this bridge-mark. THE WOLVERENE AND THE TRAVELER The wolverene is supposed to be the marten’s uncle and the wolf’s brother- in-law. One time a man was walking down along a creek. It was winter. He meta wolverene coming up. The wolverene had no sled nor toboggan nor anything except a caribou-skin blanket on him. As soon as the man saw him, the wolverene went into the woods and filled his blanket with brush from spruce trees and made believe he had a load of utensils. His family was following a few miles back. The wolverene sat on his load and made the spruce sticks break. Then he told the man that he had broken his utensils. The man sat on his snow-shoes. The wolverene was bad and reached a long copper hook under the snow to catch hold of the lower snow-shoe and trip him. The wolverene would eat men. The man watched the wolverene because he knew what the wolverene would do. The wolverene, after tripping the man, would kill him with his copper ax. The man put his rabit-skin cap under himself, so when the hook came under him it caught the cap and pulled it out instead of catching his leg. Immediately then the man jumped on the wolverene, grabbed the wolverene’s ax, and killed him with his own ax. The man built a camp. He cut off the wolverene’s right leg at the shoulder and hung it over the fire to cook. Then he laid the wolverene on his right side to conceal the cut-off shoulder. He put the hook in the wolverene’s left hand, giving him the appearance of poking up the fire. This was to deceive the wolverene’s family that, coming soon, would think he had something and was cooking it. Then the man hid in the snow about fifty yards away and watched. When the wolverene’s family came the young ones tried to wake him up to tell him that the shoulder was cooked, but they could not wake him up. Then they ate up the shoulder, not knowing it was their father’s. Then they tried to wake him up more, and found out that he was dead and his shoulder off. Then they knew that they had eaten their father’s shoulder. They took their spears and hunted all around for the man. They knew he had come down the river to the camp by his snow-shoe tracks, but he concealed his last tracks. They went about stabbing their spears into the snow to find him. When they came near him he jumped up on his snow-shoes and they all ran after, trying to catch him. The man could not run fast enough, so he wished for a warm wind to come so that the young wolverenes would get overheated and have to throw their coats away. The mother wolverene followed them, and every time one = NO. 4 UPPER YUKON NATIVE CUSTOMS—SCH MITTER 29 would throw his coat away she would pick it up and eat it. The man now knew that the young wolverenes had no coats, so he wished that a cold storm would come. Then the storm came and they called to the man, “Partner, come and build a fire for us, because it is cold and we won't kili you.” The man started to build a fire. He got wood together and started a fire under it. He didn’t want it to burn right away, so he put a little snow on the fire. Then he told the young wolverenes to sit in a row and all blow the fire at once to- gether. As they bent to blow it he struck all of them over the heads with a long pole, killing them all with the one blow. THE WOLVERENE AND THE HUNTER The wolverene used often to go out hunting with a man, but every time he would return without his partner. One man decided to go out with him and find out what he did with them. They traveled together all day. Every time they saw a moose track the man wanted to follow it, but the wolverene said, “That’s no good; we must go long way to get good hunting.” At dark they made a camp. There was plenty of wood about, but wolverene said that he would get a hollow rotten stump and a large squirrel’s nest (the kind built on pine-tree branches). The man had stripes about his pants below the knees, made of porcupine quills. The wolverene didn’t have any stripes on his pants. ‘They both got wet. The man knew that the wolverene was going to do some- thing bad with the rotten wood. They stretched a pole across the fire and hung their pants on it to dry. The man turned his pants inside out, so the wolverene did the same way. The wolverene sat on the left of the fire and the man sat on the right, with their pants on their respective sides, so that they would know whose pants each were. They both went to bed without pants on, beside each other. This man was smarter than the wolverene. The man did not sleep, but pretended to. He would snore; then the wolverene would go to get up quietly; then the man would move a little and the wolverene would lie down. The man did not go to sleep, but kept awake till the morning hours, when he was sure the wolverene was asleep. Then the man got up and changed the place of the pants and went back to bed. The wolverene now woke up and took the pants which he thought was the man’s. He put them inside the hollow stump and laid the squirrel’s nest over it. Then he put it in the fire and burned it. At daylight the man got up. The fire was out, so he built another fire. After that he took his pants down. Then the wolverene got up and said, “Partner, that’s my pants.” ‘The man said, “No, they are my pants.” The wolverene tried to take them away, but the man said, “You haven’t any stripes on your pants; there are the stripes, so they’re mine.” The wolverene was sorry he lost his pants, and said they must have fallen on the fire and burned. The man got lots of small wood, no large pieces, so that it would burn up quickly; then he told the wolverene he would go home to get a pair of pants and come back after him. When he started he got a few hundred yards away; then he called to the wolverene and said, “I have found out now what you do with your partners. I won’t come back to you any more.” Then the man went home and let the wolverene freeze to death. eer ge yop nwenne? - we rer th chee Saray me ner are Soe RS UT et 30 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS — VOL. 56 A FAMILY ANECDOTE When Arthur, my interpreter, was a little boy, a lot of youngsters used to get together and some old man or old woman would tell them anecdotes and folk-lore stories. One of them is as follows: Arthur’s mother narrowly escaped death by a big moose once. The moose kills dogs by stamping with the fore feet or kicking with the hind feet. The Indian women went out with the dogs to bring home a lot of cached caribou meat. They dragged the meat over the snow, wrapped up in caribou-skin. A moose appeared at the cache and all the dogs went after him. The women did | not want to kill the moose, but they tried to do so because they could not get the dogs away. So they fastened a knife to a stick and tried to spear it. The moose ran tcward Arthur’s mother and planted both fore feet in front of her but she sat humped up and kept perfectly motionless, and the moose turned away without harming her. If she had moved he would have trampled her to death. ‘ SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOLUME 56, NUMBER § A PRELIMINARY STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION BY FRANK WIGGLESWORTH CLARKE Curr Cuemist, U.S. GEoLocicaL SURVEY (Pustication 1935) CITY OF WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION JUNE, 1910 The Lord Baltimore Press BALTIMORE, MD., U. S. A. A PRELIMINARY STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION By FRANK WIGGLESWORTH CLARKE CHIEF CHEMIST U. S. GEOLOGICAL SURVEY. In 1876 the late T. Mellard Reade delivered a remarkable address before the Liverpool Geological Society, which was afterwards separately printed under the title, “ Chemical Denudation in Relation to Geological Time.” In this address Reade attempted to measure the solvent action of surface waters in England and Wales, and to estimate the amount of dissolved solids annually carried by British rivers to the sea. His con- clusion was, in brief, that the annual run-off in England and Wales trans- ported 8,370,630 tons of mineral matter in solution; a quantity which would represent a lowering of the area in question at the rate of one foot in 12,978 years. Evenly distributed, the amount of material so removed from the land amounted to 143.5 tons per square mile of surface, a figure which is surprisingly large. Reade also, from such data as he could obtain, made similar but rough estimates for several European river basins; which, in British tons per square mile, may be tabulated as follows: TEIN OMNI eee ec EN ea eee TATS oral Oe tsi panne uote, hale al ni shisiivdals 232 FILTRATE SeRsen ence etcte audi a Snape sisie: ap katie Naive cat site lay ol hee 149. (CATO MMT rae eee es eee ne elisloke sock wiioyistea lenettenstfanes 142 SST ee eae eee cetient ts a vapce tale ones ievtoveticyeeatet's 97. AER TNT Stars ea sre she trans ai toveay Wan one eyed ont is, oes Oe wine saree te 92.3 FUP) FRENTE) hrcriaare Sees eeeee ieee teu onen cure? clin rerete ya: ee oxeyeiieite (oueuete 72.7 The average for the entire land surface of the globe he put at 100 tons per square mile, a figure that was not much better than a guess. About eight years later, in another address before the Liverpool Society, Reade discussed the subject of denudation in the two Americas.’ For the Mississippi, on the basis of a single old and imperfect analysis, he com- puted a solvent lowering of the drainage basin at the rate of 120 tons per square mile per annum and for the Amazon his figure was 50 tons. For the St. Lawrence and the River Plate his figures are less explicit, but the St. Lawrence he considers as having a greater chemical activity per square mile than the Mississippi. His former average of 100 tons for all the river basins of the globe he regarded as confirmed. 1 Proc. Liverpool Geol. Soc., vol. 3, p. 21], 1876. 2See “The Evolution of Earth Structures,’’ pp. 255-282. London, 1903. SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS, VOL. 56, No. 5 , ‘ t { j oo SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 In 1887 Sir John Murray’ published a careful discussion of the rela- tions between rainfall and run-off for the entire globe, and incidentally, from the average composition of nineteen rivers he estimated that the saline matter annually carried into the ocean amounted to nearly 5,000,- 000,000 tons. The rivers taken for this estimate were not named, but must have been in great part European. American data were at that time very meager, and, except for the Nile, there was little material to be had relative to the rivers of Africa and Asia. Reade and Murray both were handicapped by the defectiveness of their data; and yet their con- clusions were so important that they have since been made the basis of several attempts to compute geological time. These attempts will be considered in due course later. It is now time to revise some of the fundamental figures. Within the past year, 1909, two noteworthy reports have been pub- lished by the United States Geological Survey.” In one of them Dole and Stabler have summarized a great number of observations upon the dis- charge, drainage areas and salinity of many American rivers, and in the other Dole has given detailed analyses of the waters east of the hun- dredth meridian. These analyses are numbered by thousands, and in each case the composition of a river water represents the average composition during an entire year. For example, the water of the Mississippi, taken just above New Orleans,’ was collected daily. Each week the seven samples were mixed and analyzed, and this was repeated regularly during the year. The average of the fifty-two weekly composites gave the mean composition of the river; and, combined with the known discharge, the amount of dissolved matter contributed annually by the entire drainage basin of the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico. With evidence of this kind the problem of chemical denudation can now be attacked systematic- ally; and to do so is the purpose of this paper. First of all, let us try to determine the average composition of the inorganic matter held in solution by river waters, taking into account as far as possible the entire surface of our globe. This is a subject of funda- mental importance; for upon its details the estimates of geological time, to which reference has already been made, must be based. For the rivers of the United States the material, although not exhaustive, is adequate ; for Europe a fair average can be computed; but beyond these areas the evidence is still very imperfect. Something, however, can be done even with the scanty data which now exist; by comparing the analyses of Asia- tic or African waters with those of similar areas elsewhere. ‘The com- 1 Scottish Geographical Magazine, vol. 3, p. 65, 1887. 2 Water-Supply Papers 234 and 236. ® The river was also studied with great thoroughness at several other points, and so too were its more important tributaries. NO. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE 3 position of a river water shows marked climatic features, and the magni- tude of the load carried is affected in the same way. In the Temperate Zone, alternations of freezing and thawing tend to break up the rocks and so to render them more easily decomposed by percolating waters. With even moderate humidity the activity of the waters is great, and large amounts of material are transported by them. The rivers of Europe and of the eastern United States are marked by more than the average salinity of flowing waters, and estimates based upon them exclusively are sure to be excessive. In an arid region, although salinity may be high, the run- off is small, and much of an ostensible drainage area will contribute little or nothing to the mineral matter of a stream. Arctic rivers flow to a con- siderable extent over tundra, which is frozen during the greater part of the year. They, therefore, have comparatively small influence in rock solution, and much of their flow must be mere surface run-off. So also tropical rivers like the Amazon carry relatively light loads in solution, for their courses are largely through swamps and forests where the soil, unre- plenished by fresh rock decomposition, has been leached for centuries and so deprived in great part of its soluble matter. To illustrate some of these differences in the composition of stream waters a few typical examples may be taken. The analyses represent, in ionic form, the percentage composition of the dissolved mineral matter, and under the caption of denudation factor I give the number of metric tons annually removed in solution from each square mile of a drainage basin. The following waters have been chosen for this purpose : A. The St. Lawrence at Ogdensburg. Annual average as given by Dole, the denudation factor by Dole and Stabler.’ B. The Mississippi at New Orleans. Annual average; Dole and Stabler. Analyses by J. L. Porter. C. The Rio Grande at Laredo, Texas. Annual average as given by Dole from analyses by W. H. Heileman. Denudation factor from Dole and Stabler. D. The Colorado at Yuma. Mean annual composition as given by Forbes and Skinner. Bull. 44, Arizona Agric. Exper. Station, 1902. Denudation factor by Dole and Stabler. E. The Amazon. A single analysis by P. F. Frankland, used by Reade. Two analyses by Katzer give lower salinities, and, therefore, a smaller transport of material. For the total discharge of the river I have taken the data given by Murray in the memoir already cited. 1Dole and Stabler’s figures for denudation are given in tons of 2000 lbs. They are here reduced to metric tons of 2205 Ibs. The analyses are recalculated to two decimal places. . is ie 4 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 F. The Uruguay. Mean of two analyses by Kyle and Schoeller.. Denu- dation computed from Murray’s figures for the discharge and drainage area. G. The Nile. Annual average as shown by Letheby’s analyses.” Drain- age area from Murray. Total dissolved matter, 20,772,400 metric tons per annum according to Chélu.* A. Be C. 1: E. i G. (OL 0 Fe ahead Grae is oe aioe - 45.69) 935,21 Da bb). 13025 Baebes 22:91 S60 DOR Sse sc cicle ecient 9:08 -115:36- °30/09 28:62 epi 5.02 17.44 OR rox siere cnt ov nteaehetotere 5.82 LEGO P2126 5 O92 3.85 2.87 4.47 INGOs. osckacck cncte, eae aioli 28 6.21 sete aatans ane 2.75 trace Cay oan eames Poatets PBC) eA) a walir(ay a" aides Paley 9.91 20.10 ID Ss etre atetasl athe eos eis es ey Ae 5.45 5.38 3.03 3.14 2.57 2.91 4.01 ING iietevsiadia horse ots See 4.77 S333) 4 sen loeb 1.94 4.84 3.04 TGA A chcoleyecoricueusieadas coitohens i \ 87 2.17 2.31 1.56 leo S10 a2. 5 he Neiers io cceys tension 4.99 7.04 3.83 3.04 18.80 45.27 6.47 AlsOsz, FesOs........... 52 .38 47 ba sreys 7.29 1.96 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 Denudation factor.... 105. 98. 22.7 46.2 53. 50.4 16. These analyses tell a consistent story. The St. Lawrence represents a kumid area, and every square mile of it contributes something to the salinity of the waters. Hence a solvent activity of 105 tons per square mile. The Mississippi is a blend of waters from humid regions on the east and arid or semi-arid plains to the west, and its load is, therefore, proportionately lowered. The Colorado and Rio Grande are typical of areas which are largely arid, and many square miles of their nominal drainage basins add nothing to the saline burdens. The Amazon and the Uruguay show the low salinity of the tropical forest regions, and the Nile flows for a thousand miles of its course through a desert. The saline matter of the Nile comes in great part from the regions south of Khar- toum. It has no tributaries worth considering.north of the Atbara. Even on the purely chemical side the analyses are instructive. The water of the St. Lawrence is essentially a calcium carbonate solution ; in the Colo- rado and Rio Grande sulphates and chlorides predominate, and calcium is relatively low; the Mississippi has an intermediate character. As a rule the waters from arid regions resemble the Colorado; those from humid areas are more like the St. Lawrence. This, of course, is not an absolute rule, but it holds fairly well in a broad general way. It is a distinct aid in discussing the larger problems of chemical denudation. 1See “‘ Data of Geochemistry,’’ Bull. 830 U. S. Geol. Surv., p. 75. 2 Tbid., p. 82. 3 Le Nil, VEgypt, le Soudan. Paris, 1891. 10. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE 5 In an essay of this kind it is impracticable to give all the details of the liscussion. It is enough to indicate their nature briefly, for the results an only be approximations to the truth, with no claims to finality. Tak- ng the several continents in order, the composition of their waters tribu- ary to the ocean may be estimated as follows: For the United States the data given by Dole and Stabler in Water- Supply Papers 234 and 236 are taken, together with those of Forbes and Skinner for the Colorado. The river basins considered are the St. Law- ence, Hudson, Delaware, Susquehanna, Potomac, James, Roanoke, Neuse, Cape Fear, Pedee, Santee, Savannah, Altamaha, Apalachicola, Alabama, Pearl, Mississippi, Brazos, Colorado of Texas, Rio Grande, Jolorado of Arizona, and Sacramento.’ Each average composition is roughly weighted proportionally to the total amount of dissolved matter rransported by the river in a year, and in that way the mean for the United States is obtained ; a mean which is not likely to be much altered by any future analyses. According to Dole and Stabler the quantity of saline matter carried from these basins is 87 short tons or about 79 metric tons per square mile annually. For the rest of North America only an estimate is possible. Hleven analyses of river waters from the Saskatchewan system, one from the Yukon, and one from the Ottawa, give a mean composition of the dis- solved matter resembling that of the St. Lawrence. So much for British North America and Alaska. For Mexican and Central American waters no data are at hand, but it is probable that they would be, for northern Mexico, at least, similar to those of Arizona, New Mexico and Texas. That is, the waters north of the United States and south of it would vary from the mean obtained for the United States, in opposite directions, and so tend to balance each other. In short, the average for the United States will probably represent fairly well the average for the entire con- tinent. If we assume that six millions of square miles of North America lose 79 metric tons in solution per square mile per annum, and that the composition of the saline matter so transported is that found for the United States alone, we shall not be very far from the truth. Analyses of South American river waters are not numerous. For the great rivers north of the Amazon I have found no data at all. We may assume, however, that they will resemble the Amazon in their general features, and taking the analysis and denudation factor of that river as typical, we can regard its composition as representing the waters of about three millions of square miles. Figures for the Uruguay, draining 151,000 square miles, I have already given. There is also an analysis by 1 Average of 20 composite analyses of 10 daily samples each, furnished by Mr. R. B. Dole. Not in Dole’s memoir. 6 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 Schoeller of water from the Rio Negro, which I assign equal weight with that of the Uruguay. The data for the River Plate are unsatisfactory, for the analyses suggest a strong probability of tidal contamination. South of the Plate the streams show a resemblance to those of our own southwestern areas, of which the Colorado is the type. I have averaged together twelve analyses, including two Chilean rivers, and so obtained the results given in the following table. In combining the analyses they are weighted as indicated at the foot of each column. Amazon. Uruguay. Negro. 12 rivers. Weighted mean. COssr aepcreoeteter: 34.75 22.91 39.10 19.82 32.48 SOP Panchen aati 3 5.02 1.23 17.22 8.04 Oy ieee ere es 3.85 2.87 4.43 19.14 5.75 INO 8! Reacporens stots iets Seria 2.75 1.95 2.65 .62 Gat sokioc on einer 21.12 9.91 17.82 10.77 18.92 Meese tec AA pence 2.57 2.91 1.96 2.82 2.59 IN GRR ram paiets toe 1.94 4.84 10.24 21.01 5.038 TS BeeRikoroenaletere 2.3 1.56 anetape 1.67 1.95 Fe2Os, AleOs.... 7.29 1.96 1.52 .36 5.74 SiQa sete wie 18.80 45.27 21.75 4.54 18.88 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 WViGigibite an totes 12. alee a. 2. This mean I shall assume as representing the waters of four millions of square miles, with a denudation factor, as shown by the Amazon, Uru- guay, and, for comparative purposes, the Colorado also, of 50 tons per square mile annually. This is only a rough estimate, but it is a probable one and the best I can make with the existing material. The Amazon dominates the combination, just as the Mississippi does in the United States. Data relative to the Magdalena, Orinoco, Demerara, San Fran- cisco, and Plate, the latter at some point far above the possibility of tidal contamination, are much to be desired. Analyses of European river waters are abundant, but rarely numerous enough for any one stream to give conclusive evidence as to its denudation value. I have, however, averaged together 300 analyses of European lakes and rivers,’ first by groups and then weighting each group proportionally to its drainage area. In that way I have obtained a highly probable mean for the composition of the waters, which will appear in a table to be given later. The denudation factor I can only estimate roughly. According to Geikie* the Thames carries in solution past Kingston 548,230 British or 556,930 metric tons dissolved inorganic matter annually. The drainage area is 6100 square miles; hence a denudation factor of 91.3 tons; an esti- mate much lower than that of Reade. For the Meuse above Liége, the 1 Not 300 rivers. Some streams, like the Elbe and Danube, are represented by numerous analyses. * Text-book of Geology, 4th ed., vol. 1, p. 489. No. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAI: DENUDATION—CLARKE i figures published by Spring and Prost * give a factor of 139 tons per square mile. Reade’s estimate for all Europe is 100 tons, and that seems to be fairly probable. For Europe, then, I shall assume that 3,000,000 of square miles suffer solvent denudation at the rate of 100 tons per mile, a figure which is much like that of the St. Lawrence. Europe is generally well- watered, and its waters have all the characteristics of those from the humid areas of the United States. In the latter the denudation factor is lowered by the arid regions of the southwest. The African material is very scanty. In addition to the figures already cited for the Nile, with a drainage area estimated at 1,293,050 square miles, I have found only analyses of three small Algerian rivers which exhibit all the peculiarities of waters from other semi-arid districts. Ignoring the latter I shall estimate that 1,500,000 square miles in Africa are represented by the Nile with the denudation factor of 16 tons. I shall also assume that 6,500,000 square miles are fairly equivalent in character to South America, with the same composition of the waters and the same denudation factor of 50 tons. The desert regions, like the Sahara, of course count for nothing. Analyses of water from the Niger, Congo, Orange, and Zambesi are much needed. The data relative to Asiatic waters are still more defective. I have found analyses by Schmidt of water from Lake Baikal and the river Om in Siberia, and one by Nicholson. of the Mahanuddy in India. Waters of saline lakes, not tributary to the ocean, I of course leave out of account. The water of Lake Baikal is closely similar in character to that of the Yukon and St. Lawrence; that of the Mahanuddy more resembles the waters of tropical South America. With these feeble clues I can only make a very rough estimate for Asia, as follows: Assume three millions of square miles to average like Europe; three millions like the United States; and one million like South America. Large areas in Asia ob- viously are left out of consideration ; the Caspian depression, the deserts of Central Asia, and the Arabian peninsula. The streams which reach the sea from Arabia are too insignificant to carry any weight in the general dis- cussion. For Australia I have no data. To sum up, the crude figures upon which to base further discussion are as follows, beginning with a summary of the denudation values for each continent : North America 6,000,000 sq. miles, at 79 tons.............. 474,000,000 tons South America 4,000,000 “ = FED OOM vate babe a ateena te a sab ehs 200,000,000 “ UT OPC iain: 3,000,000 “ Zz CEE Li) Roe oe tec erate obey ogee os 300,000,000 “ PAS Almesectea pevosseota 7,000,000 “ es SSR AS AE RIA eon acrater ete eye 588,000,000 “ PATCH nenecteraie hs 8,000,000 “ a CA a tS eomeretn eee sie travelers 352,000,000 “ BAN Catal MR REN oe earee Ha See ST ctioncoes otek as et sete otohis Valls svelvelrepol Sia (oht 1,914,000,000 ‘ 1 Ann. Soc. Géol. Belg., vol. 11, p. 123. 8 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 The total area accounted for is 28,000,000 square miles, with a mean solvent denudation of 68.4 tons. The. incompleteness of the figures is due to the fact that large areas of the earth’s land surface either do not drain into the ocean, or, as in the cases of Arabia, the coast of Peru, etc., contribute little or nothing to it. There is, of course, local denudation in areas like the Great Basin of the United States and the Caspian depres- sion; but that does not fall within the scope of the present discussion. Furthermore, the cireumpolar regions such as Greenland and the Antarctic continent have no large rivers, and must be left out of account. The total land area to be considered, that is, the area which contributes to the salinity of the ocean, is, according to Murray, 39,697,400 square miles, or 40,000,000 in round numbers. Assuming that the figures so far given for 28,000,000 square miles represent a fair average, the total amount of saline matter carried into the ocean by the river drainage of the world is 2,735,000,000 metric tons, an estimate only a little more than half that given by Murray. The composition of the saline matter thus carried into the ocean is given in the next table. The averages for Asia and Africa are made up in the manner already indicated: the final general mean roughly weights the individual means proportionally to the number of tons given in the last column of the foregoing table: N. America. S. America. Hurope. Asia. Africa. General mean. COs serait et 33.40 82.48 39.98 36.61 32.75 35.15 SO epee LS Sil: 8.04 11.97 13.03 8.67 12.14 Cle icaeeetae 7.44 5.15 3.44 5.30 5.66 5.68 INOsensetts V5 62 .90 .98 58 90 Cane ter 19.36 18.92 23.19 21.23 19.00 20.39 MS eed ose ete 4.87 2.59 2.35 3.42 2.68 3.41 Nadir aici. 9.23 5.03 4.32 6.42 4.90 6.40 TRG Ne ie steve ieveze 1.95 2.75 1.54 2.35 Apel! RsOspcicac 64 5.74 2.40 1.96 5.52 2.15 Si@s-le.u cies 8.60 18.88 8.70 9.51 17.89 11.67 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 100.00 Weileht 2... 20; 4. 6. alle is The final mean, regardless of possible corrections, is curiously near the average figures for three great rivers, the Mississippi, Amazon, and Nile. It is probably rather high in silica, but on the whole it is as near to the truth as can be determined from the existing data. The greater rivers of Africa and Asia are yet to be studied, and much more should be done in South America. In the analyses reported by Dole, sodium and potas- sium are rarely discriminated, and hence the two radicles are given to- gether as sodium alone. This error, however, is compensated by the excessive and evidently erroneous determinations of potassium in the Nile No. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE 9 and in some European rivers, so that the final figures are not far out of the way. Dr. Chase Palmer, working in co-operation with Dole in the study of American waters, made more than one hundred careful deter- minations of the ratio between sodium and potassium in over forty rivers, and found it to be very nearly 4.2 to 1. This ratio is practically identical with that given in my general mean, namely, 4.24 to 1, and the latter is, therefore, satisfactory. In order to apply the foregoing averages to the discussion of either chemical denudation or geological time, certain other data are needed. Some of these are general, others are of the nature of minor corrections. Professor J. Joly,’ in order to determine the age of the ocean, divided its total content of sodium by the amount annually carried into it by rivers, and so deduced an uncorrected value of 97,600,000 years. The computa- tion is simple enough, and is based upon the fact that sodium is less re- moved from the waters than other substances; if, indeed, it is appreciably removed at all. Calcium and magnesium are precipitated as carbonates ; potassium is absorbed by clays, silica goes to form siliceous oozes. Sodium alone, among the basic elements, tends to accumulate in the ocean with little loss, and so to give some indication of its geological age. Joly, however, employed data of a defective character. Murray’s esti- mate of the sodium in rivers was taken, which, as we have seen, needs serious modification. For the volume of the ocean he combined Wagner’s, or rather Karstens’, estimate of its area with Murray’s figure for its aver- age depth, and used Dittmar’s analyses for the proportion of sodium in it. The last datum is satisfactory; the others need revision. The best estimate of the volume of the ocean is probably that of Kar- stens,” 1,285,935,211 cubic kilometers. This, with Murray’s figure for the mean density, 1.026, gives the ocean a mass of 1,319,650 x 10% metric tons. Assuming an average salinity of 3.5 per cent., the tota) saline matter in the ocean amounts to 46,188 x 10*? tons; which, accord- ing to Dittmar’s analyses, is distributed as follows: Per cent. Metric tons X 10%. Coe mee tetevenetate teeters: sian 55.292 25,538. (Bat eee asco cer ena sien ete 188 86.8 hte etter isa sa dts eeu 7.692 3,553. CO ere ceavcuubels Ss acare ie 207 95.6 Nees dente ete lela loys 30.593 14,130. Kea te hers iee ere niecars etels «revs 1.106 510.8 CA erent sate e sb oicst olistick «6c LOG 552.8 AVE Scares eae eriear ote tet stance atoys)' 3.725 1,721. 100.000 46,188.0 The small traces of other substances in the ocean only represent insig- nificant corrections to these figures. 1 Trans. Roy. Soc, Dublin (2), vol. 7, p. 23, 1899. Rep. British Asso. Adv. Sci., 1900, p. 369. 2 Pine neue Berechnung der mittleren Tiefen der Oceane. Inaug. Diss., Kiel, 1894. . 10 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 From the figures previously given, for the average composition of river waters and the total chemical denudation of the globe, 175,040,000 metric tons of sodium are annually discharged into the sea. The crude quotient, Near peea eo 7o6 Onn: Na in rivers the time in years needed to furnish the entire amount of marine sodium ; assuming a sodium-free ocean at the start and a uniform rate of supply throughout all geological time. Any probable change in either of these assumptions will reduce the quotient, although other considerations may tend to increase it. The first correction to be examined operates in the latter direction. A part of the sodium found in the discharge of rivers is the so-called “ eyclic sodium ”; that is, sodium in the form of salt lifted from the sea as spray and blown inland to return again to its source in the drainage from the land. Near the sea coast this cyclic salt is abundant; inland its quantity is small. For example, by careful analyses of rainfall, con- tinued over long periods of time, the following amounts of cyclic salt have been determined. The figures represent pounds per acre per annum of sodium chloride. Locality. Nacl in rain. Rothamsted shinelandeerareceeciee eieeneeiecioe 24. Cirencester, sanelandion ss oe een eee 36.1 IPETUSIA; Tally: sc.<.ohoecye. stoustt Metaeo toes Sie Leute 31.95 IBaLrbad OS: ohnctatevialete wisi atunnere clone eeeeodeteeioiels 193; In central Massachusetts, according to Mrs. Ellen S. Richards,’ the eyclic salt, at distances of 50 to 100 miles from the coast, amounts to 23.2 pounds per acre per annum. The Rothamsted figures are very suggestive. Rothamsted hes in the Thames valley, and if its figure for sodium chloride in rain be taken as a fair average for the entire drainage basin, 6100 square miles, the quantity there brought down amounts to 41,732 British tons annually, or 16,445 tons reckoned as sodium alone. Analyses of the Thames give sodium as 3.26 per cent of the total inorganic matter in solution, or, in terms of the discharge already cited, 17,872 tons. Here the cyclic sodium is nearly as much as the total amount carried by the stream; but of course one cannot assume that all of the cyclic portion finds its way back to the ocean in any brief or relatively brief time. It is enough to say that in the British islands the correction for cyclic salt must be large; while for the great continental rivers like the Mississippi, St. Lawrence, Amazon, Danube, or Nile it is very much smaller. 1 Private communication. For the other figures, see Data of Geochemistry, p. 47. NO. 95 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE Li It is difficult, with existing data, to evaluate the correction for cyclic sodium with any great approach to accuracy. It probably varies for different regions, but from the well-known “ chlorine maps” of New Eng- land and New York, with their “isochlors,’ a good estimate for the United States can be made. This part of the work has been done by Dr. Becker, whose discussion of the subject appears elsewhere. Another, eruder estimate may be made as follows: If we assume with regard to the United States that the salt brought down in rain is represented by the Rothamsted figures for a strip 100 miles wide following the coast line, an area, roughly, of about 450,000 square miles, the quantity of sodium thus found amounts to 1,231,300 metric tons. Regarding the correction for the interior of the United States as zero, an assumption which is justified by a study of the isochlors, the final result may be obtained as follows: The total sodium carried by the rivers of the United States to the sea, after correcting the crude value already given in the table of analyses by Palmer’s value for the Na-K ratio, amounts to, roughly, 17,500,000 tons. The cyclic sodium is only 7 per cent. of the latter quantity, whereas Joly allows 10 per cent., but the smaller figure is probably a maximum. De- ducting 7 per cent. from the total sodium carried by the rivers, 175,- 040,000 metric tons per annum, the remainder is 162,787,200 tons; which, divided into the sodium of the ocean gives a quotient of 86,800,000 years. Joly’s correction of 10 per cent. is very nearly equivalent to the assump- tion that the entire run-off of the globe, 6524 cubic miles, according to Murray, carries on an average one part per million of chlorine. The chlorine maps, so far as they have been made, show this figure to be excessive. The foregoing correction for “cyclic salt” is, however, not final. It has already been suggested that the wind-borne salt is only in part re- stored to the ocean, at least within reasonable time. Some of it is retained by the soil, if not permanently, at least rather tenaciously; and the por- tion which falls into depressions of the land may remain undisturbed almost indefinitely. In arid regions, like the coasts of Peru, Arabia, and parts of western Africa, a large quantity of cyclic salt must be so retained in hollows or valleys which do not drain into the sea. Torrential rains, which occur at rare intervals, may return a part of it to the ocean, but not all. Some writers, like Ackroyd * for example, have attributed the saline matter of the Dead Sea to an accumulation of wind-borne salt; an assump- tion which contains elements of truth, but is probably extreme. A more definite, but equally striking instance of the sort is furnished by the Sambhar salt lake in northern India, as studied by Holland and Christie. This lake, situated in an enclosed drainage basin of 2200 square miles and 1 Chem. News, vol. 89, p. 13, 1904. 2 Records Geol. Survey India, vol. 38, p. 154, 1909. 12 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 over 400 miles inland, appears to receive the greater part, if not all of its salt from dust-laden winds which, during the four hot, dry months, sweep over the plains between it and the arm of the sea known as the Rann of ~Cuteh. Analyses of the air during the dry season, showed a quantity of salt so carried which amounted to at least 3000 metric tons over the Sambhar lake annually, and 130,000 tons into Rajputana. These quanti- ties are sufficient to account for the accumulated salt of the lake, which the authors were unable to explain in any other way. Examples like this of the Sambhar lake are of course exceptional. Ina rainy region salt dust is quickly dissolved and carried away in the drain- age. Only in a dry period can it be transported as dust from its original point of deposition to points much further inland. It appears, however, that some salt is so withdrawn, at least for an indefinitely long time, from the normal circulation, and should, if it could be estimated, be added to the amount now in the ocean. Such a correction, however, would doubtless be quite trivial, and, therefore, negligible; and the same remark must apply to all the visible accumulations of rock salt, like those of the Stass- furt region, which were once laid down by the evaporation of sea water. The saline matter of the ocean, if concentrated, would represent a volume | of over 4,800,000 cubic miles; a quantity compared with which all beds of rock salt become insignificant. _ But although the visible accumulations of salt are relatively insignifi- cant, it is possible that there may be quantities of disseminated salt which are not so. The sedimentary rocks of marine origin must contain, in the ageregate, vast amounts of saline matter, widely distributed, but rarely determined by analysis. These sediments, laid down from the sea, cannot have been completely freed from adherent salts, which, insignificant in a single ton of rock, must be quite appreciable when cubic miles are con- sidered. The fact that their presence is not shown in ordinary analyses merely means that they were not sought for. Published analyses, whether of rocks or of waters, are rarely complete, especially with regard to those substances which may be said to occur in “ traces.” It is perhaps not possible to estimate the quantity of this disseminated salt, and yet a maximum limit may be assigned to it. In a former pub- lication * it was shown that 84,300,000 cubic miles of the average igneous rock would, upon decomposition, yield all the sodium of the ocean and the sedimentaries. This estimate involved the maximum, not the mean salinity of the ocean, and also a different value for the mass of the latter from that now adopted. In order to revise the estimate, which must be considerably reduced, it is desirable first to consider the average composi- tion of the two classes of rocks, especially since the data are applicable to other phases of the discussion than that now under consideration. 1 Data of Geochemistry, pp. 28-29. NO. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—-CLARKE 13 For the average composition of the igneous rocks there are two principal estimates: Clarke’s, based upon analyses made in the laboratories of the United States Geological Survey alone, and Washington’s,’ which includes analyses from all parts of the world. These two composites, reduced to 100 per cent. and condensed by union of minor and unimportant con- stituents, assume the following form: Clarké. Washington. Mean. SiO? 6 HOS Rey ievekatienes 59.99 57.78 58.88 dN OF peitenenay se a boaitiots 15.04 15.6% 15.36 Ga @aie-stacshcvateuctefielere: overs 2.59 aro 2.95 EOE Rvateye cterobaenehens 3.34 3.84 3.59 NEE Oy cerete ates serene 3.89 3.81 3.85 CAO Pa haat ieeae 4.81 5.18 4.99 IN AsO} ie icctspr estes 3.41 3.88 3.65 ein@ | ehcieveanaveteate seapstens 2.95 Selip 3.04 laOliccitie aresetemed tncesecesls 1.92 1.78 1.85 Minor constituents. . 2.06 1.62 1.84 100.00 100.00 . 100.00 In the mean the Survey analyses, of which many are included in Wash- ington’s average, evidently receive double weight. When the average igneous rock decomposes, it loses some substances by leaching, and gains others, such as oxygen, water, and carbon dioxide. The products of decomposition, as nearly as can be estimated, are 5 per cent. limestones, 15 per cent. sandstones, and 80 per cent. the residues which consolidate to form slates and shales. The composite analyses of sedimentary rocks, made in the laboratory of the United States Geological Survey,’ are given in the next table, with their weighted average recal- culated to 100 per cent. Shales. Sandstones. Limestones. Weighted mean. PLO awe Maoae anasatacst cyarsrsajer tle 58.38 78.66 aa) 58.51 PN a ar israrcieseiereit satatencieietets 15.47 4.78 81 13.07 So Oa ihe vrata neravens, tucnarenele pier 4.03 1.08 .b4 3.40 IG Obie fasts teyhctet di shacesenoueveceste ce 2.46 .30 Aue 2.00 WE O esicrcie co eusl suet see ake 2.45 ey, 7.90 2.52 GAO ee sroetaiakeaisigelersuscaneks 3.12 5.52 42.61 5.42 Nilo OW case antic heretic ietopetere oie flees 45 .05 1.12 ESOS ienes alee «, Senet tedeyraavione 3.25 1.32 “OD 2.80 Epa Orie ire twavels iets citeleCrie. a acns 5.02 1.64 ait 4,28 WOH iercues of ofola eee Reestensy tier cans 2.64 5.04 41.58 4.93 Minor constituents...... RE 45 com 1.95 100.46 100.41 100.09 100.00 Wels hitaniecsiaro sce tiem siete 80. 15. 5: peer eerste INL ESET E seers este LN ee eet es ee 1U. S. Geol. Surv., Bull. 419, pp. 4-9, 1910. 8U. S. Geol. Surv. Bull. 419, p. 10. 2U. S. Geol. Surv. Prof. Paper, No. 14, p. 106, 1908. 14 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VoL. 56 In the ocean, as previously shown, there are 14130 x 10** metric tons of sodium. This amount would be supplied by the complete decomposi- tion of 48,225,000 cubic miles of an igneous rock having the composition shown by Clarke’s average, or 42,385,000 cubic miles on the basis of Washington’s figures. Some sodium, however, is retained by the sedimen- tary rocks, for the reason that decomposition is rarely, if ever, perfect. Fragments or particles of feldspar are especially common in the sedimen- taries. On comparing the average composition of the latter with that of the igneous rocks, assuming that alumina has remained constant, the following ratios appear: Clarke. Washington. NazO retained, per cent......... 1.29 1.38 NasO lost-apenscent=.4- neers ti 2.12 2.50 3.41 3.88 Hence, for the total volume of igneous rock needed to furnish all the sodium of the ocean and of the sediments, assuming that the sodium lost represents the marine portion, we have: From Clarke’s average..... 77,570,000 cubic miles From Washington’s average. 65,782,000 < << These figures correspond, respectively, to a shell of igneous rock, com- pletely enveloping the globe, 2050 feet thick in one case, or 1740 in the other. For present purposes the higher estimate will be taken, in order that the deductions may be maxima. If, now, the sedimentary rocks were of the same volume as the igneous rocks from which they were derived, and if the sandstones form 15 per cent. of the 77,570,000 cubic miles, the bulk of the latter will be, very roughly, 10,635,500 cubic miles. The assumptions thus made are of course not exact, but they will suffice for the computations now in hand. The errors are negligible, so far as present needs are concerned. Assume further that the sandstones, the most porous of the rocks, contain an average pore space of 20 per cent., or 2,127,100 cubic miles, and that all of it was once filled by sea water, representing 99,861,000,000,000 metric tons of sodium. If all of that sodium were now present in the sandstones, and erosion began at the rate now assigned to the rivers, namely, 175,- 040,000 tons of sodium annually, the entire accumulation would be re- moved in 570,000 years. This, compared with the estimate already reached for geological time, is an almost negligible quantity. Even if the entire volume of the sedimentary rocks carried the same proportion of sodium as is here assigned to the sandstones, it would be exhausted in about 3,800,000 years. The correction for disseminated salt is, therefore, in all probability small, and not likely to exceed 1 per cent. NO. 5 STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE 15 The foregoing calculations, so far as geologic time is concerned, imply the assumption that rivers add sodium to the sea at an average uniform rate, slight accelerations being offset by small temporary retardations. This subject is to be discussed by Mr. G. F. Becker; but one phase of it demands consideration here. The present rate of discharge has been has- tened during modern times by human agency, and that acceleration may be important to take into account. The sewage of cities, the refuse of chemical manufactures, ete., is poured into the ocean, and so disturbs the rate of accumulation of sodium quite perceptibly. The change due to chemical industries, so far as it is measurable, is wholly modern, and that due to human excretions is limited to the time since man first appeared upon the earth. Its exact magnitude, of course, cannot be determined; but its order seems to be measurable, as follows: According to the best estimates, about 14,500,000 metric tons of com- mon salt are annually produced, equivalent to 5,700,000 tons of sodium. If all of that was annually returned to the ocean, it would amount to a correction of about 3.25 per cent. on the total addition of sodium to the sea. The fact that much of it came directly or indirectly from the ocean in the first place is immaterial to the present discussion ; the rate of dis- charge is affected. All of this sodium, however, is not returned; much of it is permanently fixed in manufactured articles. The total may be larger, because of other additions, excretory in great part, which cannot be esti- mated ; but we may assume, nevertheless, a maximum of 3 per cent. as the correction to be applied. Allowing 7 per cent., as already determined, to cyclic or wind-borne sodium, and 1 per cent. to disseminated salt of marine origin, the total correction is 11 per cent. This reduces the 175,040,000 tons of river sodium to 155,785,600 tons, and the quotient representing crude geologic time becomes 90,700,000 years. The corrections so far considered are all in one direction, and increase, by a roughly evaluated amount, the apparent age of the ocean. Other corrections, whose magnitudes are more uncertain, tend to compensate the former group. The ocean may have contained primitive sodium, over and above that since contributed by rivers. It receives some sodium from the decomposition of rocks by marine erosion, which is estimated by Joly to be a correction of less than 6 per cent. and more than 3 per cent. on the value assigned to geologic time. Sodium is also derived from volcanic ejectamenta, from “ juvenile ” waters, and possibly from submarine rivers and springs. The last possibility has been considered by Sollas,” but no numerical correction can be devised for it. These four sources of sodium in the sea may be grouped together as non-fluviatile, and reduce the numerator of the fraction which gives the age of the ocean. Whether 1 Presidential address, Quar. Journ. Geol. Soc., May, 1909. 16 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS VOL. 56 they exceed, balance, or only in part compensate the other corrections it is impossible to say. The rough quotient at first obtained, 80,726,000 years, is as probable as any other value that might be chosen. That value, as will be shown by Mr. Becker’s calculations, is certainly a maximum. It represents, in its essential features, Joly’s method of computing the age of the ocean, but takes, with one minor exception, no account of changes of rate in the annual additions to the marine salinity. Joly’s final estimate of the age is 90,000,000 years, with a possible increase of 6 per cent. due to a revision of the mass of the ocean. Reade, in the investigation cited at the beginning of this paper, esti- mated the solvent denudation of England and Wales at 143.5 British, or 146 metric tons per square mile per annum, or one foot in 12,978 years. The smaller denudation factors now found lead to different results. For the United States, excluding the Great Basin, the factor of 79 tons gives, for a lowering of one foot, 23,948 years. For South America the figures are 50 tons and 37,751 years; for Europe, 100 tons and 18,875 years and for the Nile Valley, 16 tons and 93,924 years. For the 40,000,000 square miles of the globe, which drain into the ocean, the average values are 68.4 tons and 27,660 years, estimates that are subject to large correc- tions, which Reade did not take into consideration. The foregoing figures only apply to his method of computation. On critical examination of the data it is clear that the total apparent amount of solvent denudation is not a true measure of rock decomposi- tion. In the general mean of all the river analyses now under discussion, 0.90 per cent. of NO, and 35.15 per cent. of CO, appear. The NO, came entirely or practically so from atmospheric sources; the CO, was derived -partly from the atmosphere and partly from the solution of limestones. Dealing now only with the existing discharge of rivers, we must subtract these atmospheric additions from the total annual load of dissolved in- organic matter, before we can compute the real amount of rock denudation. The land surface of the earth is covered, nearly enough for present purposes, by 75 per cent. of sedimentary and 25 per cent. igneous and crystalline rocks; * and it is on or near this surface that the flowing waters act. ‘The limestones, as shown in my former discussion, constitute only one-twentieth of the sediments, or 3.75 per cent. of the entire area; but the proportion of carbonates derived from them must be very much larger. The composite and average analyses of rocks give, for lime, 4.81 per cent. in the igneous, and 5.42 in all the sedimentaries, equivalent to 3.78 and 4.26 per cent. of CO, respectively. Assuming that all the sur- face rocks yield lime at an equal rate, which is obviously not quite true, and multiplying these figures by the areas represented as 1 to 3, the 1 Estimate by A. von Tillo, actually 75.7 and 24.3. NO. 9d STUDY OF CHEMICAL DENUDATION—CLARKE 17 relative proportions of the CO, radicle become 3.78:12.78, or 1:3.4 nearly. The last figure should be higher, because of the more rapid solu- tion of the limestones, but if we accept the ratio as it stands we may use it to determine the approximate proportions of the CO, radicle derived from limestones and from the atmosphere acting upon crystalline rocks. On this basis, 8 per cent. of CO, should be deducted from the percentage in the river waters, together with the 0.9 per cent. of NO,. Making the subtraction from the total river load of dissolved matter, 2,735,000,000 tons, there remains 2,491,585,000 tons, or about 62.3 tons per square mile on the average, for the 40,000,000 of square miles of land which are assumed to drain into the ocean. This implies a lowering of the land by solvent denudation at the rate of one foot in 29,941 years, or 30,000 in round numbers. The last estimate may be subject to large future correc- tions, but probably it is correct to within 10 per cent. It is possible, with the data now in hand, to take still another step and determine approximately the quantity of chemical sediments annually precipitated in the ocean. For this purpose we may first, knowing the average composition of river waters, and also their total load of dissolved inorganic matter, compute the actual amount of each radicle poured into the ocean in one year. The total amount so added is 2,735,000,000 metric tons, distributed as follows: CO sites or fen orcas Tonterstolerere avers fonstey ete 961,350,000 tons SO Fee seeai tet teed ored saa heneraanaisvere or eneten eters) = 332,030,000 “ Caracas tet crate taae overage ational cyehor «feerefeyoucls 155,350,000 “ INO siaccreciats ajeme aise e esereie saeheretens ieiey uses 24,614,000 “ Cie ear