SPAN: October 1963

IN FAIRBANKS

OFFICE

Mathur confers with area sanitarians on schedule for summer field trips to outlying villages.

MR.

MATHUR'S present duties involve planning of water and sewage systems for Eskimo villages in an area covering about half the state, and checking sanitary conditions in houses, hotels, schools, restaurants, barber shops and similai" commercial establishments. He also teaches a course in sanitary engineering at the University of Alaska, supplementing his classroom lectures to students with frequent field trips to sewage treatment plants. He contributes technical articles from time to time to professional journals. He is now planning a course of instruction to be given in a new state training programme on radiological health. "Each day's work is entirely different," according to S. P. Mathur.

Alaska has the reputation of being bit'terly cold and barren. ewcomers to the state are, however, pleasantly surprised by its great variety of climate and contrasts of natural scenery. Its fjords, glaciers, volcanoes, dense forests, vast treeless plat~aus, snow-capped mountains and river systems have much to attract the tourist. Once quite sparsely populated, the state has made notable progress in recent years. It has developed industries-fishing, food processing, mining, lumbering and farming. Its growing cities now have their own newspapers, radio and television stations and libraries. Fairbanks, where Mr. Mathur lives with his wife, is the state's second largest town, with a population of 13,000.

ALTHOUGH MR. Mathur, who hails from Bombay, admits that he has never experienced such cold before, the Mathurs find life quite enjoyable in the Alaskan community of which they are now a part. They have made many friends with whom they exchange visits, and they take part in a variety of social activities. Mrs. Mathur combines her interest in history--she has a master's degree in the subject-with culinary research and likes to tryout new American dishes.

She is fascinated, too, by Alaska's indigenous transport-the dog-sleds and the hardy animals which draw them.

Among Mr. Mathur's American friends is his immediate supervisor, Dr. A. V. O'Brien, Regional Health Officer.

Dr. O'Brien spent twenty years in India as a member of the Indian Medical Service. It is not surprising that he takes more than ordinary inter~st in his young Indian colleague, of whose work he has a very high opinion.

Mr. Mathur is a good example of an educated, enterprising Indian whose professional talent is helping him to build a useful and successful career in the United States .•

from farming. Urban planning is more essential than ever before to provide adequate employment and living conditions. Thirteen million acres of idle valley land must be reforested. Important development work is needed most where the obstacles are the most difficult, and the results sometimes frustratingly slow.

T VA PROVIDES a dramatic demonstration that low-cost electricity can pay its own way by encouraging a greater use of electric power in homes, schools, farms and factories.

The founders of TV A wisely looked upon electricity as a tool rather than as a commodity-a tool which could be used freely to build a more productive economy.

Application of one of the hallmarks of successful business economics-that mass sales at low prices result in lower costs per unit, in this case units of electricity-is the key to the TV A power programme. Rather than limited use at high cost, the people enjoy abundant use at low cost.

Today, more than ninety-eight per cent of the region's farms are served by electricity, as compared with three per cent in 1933. One-fourth of the valley homes are heated electrically and the area leads the nation in electrical appliance purchases.

Electricity is truly a tool for the people. In homes it sweeps and washes for the housewife. It pumps water and milks cows for the farmer. It turns the drills and lathes of industry, speeding production and easing the task of the worker.

To cop.trol the waters which once brought untold expense, misery and loss oflife to the people of the Tennessee and Mississippi River basins, TV A's system of dams provides nearly twelve million acre-feet of storage space with the ability to reduce, or even temporarily hold back entirely, the flow of the Tennessee River. The flood control system has already prevented $180 million in estimated damage, within $4 million of the total system investment. The knowledge that homes and businesses are free from floods is an invaluable asset to the people.

In recent years the concept of flood damage avoidance has been developed by TV A to assist states and communities in meeting local flood situations not solved by the valleywide system of reservoir control. TVA provides flood data and techni.cal advice to guide planning agencies in minimizing damage from these local floods.

Swift currents and rocky shoals opposed efforts to make the Tennessee River a navigable servant of the people before the TV A multi-purpose dam system formed the "Great Lakes of the South," a 650-mile chain of quiet water joining the region with the nation's interconnected Inland Waterway System.

With development of TV A's nine-foot navigation channel, industrial growth logically followed. Since 1933 private industry has invested $854 million in waterfront facilities along the river.

Industry means new jobs and increased demand for regional products and resources, bringing more income to the valley people. In turn, the waterway enables shippers to transport products economically into the area. Barges from the midwestern wheat-belt bring grain to the mills of the Tennessee Valley. Shippers save on transportation costs and people throughout the nation have new markets and more economical products made available.

TV A's Fertilizer-Munitions Development Centre at Muscle Shoals, Alabama, is the heart of efforts to help the people turn a land stripped bare by destructive water and poor farming into an area of increasing productivity. At the Centre, fertilizer chemistry is undergoing a scie¡tltific revolution as TV A scientists and engineers provide im provI

ed fertilizers for better farming and improved production processes for more economical manufacturing.

The nucleus of TVA's agricultural development programme began with two chemical plants built by the U.S. Army as weapons of war. TV A converted these swords into ploughshares, working with private industry and agricultural colleges to make farming a more stable and prosperous, yet more flexible, operation. TV A-sponsored test-demonstration programmes provide fertilizers and technical assistance to farmers in thirty-one states who demonstrate the effectiveness of improved farming methods to their neighbours.

Improved farming creates increased income and enables the farmer to purchase new production equipment and to provide modern comfort and conveniences for his family.

In 1933 TV A foresters found fire damage and erosion eliminating the natural advantage of climate in the Tennessee Valley, a region for which forestry once provided the people with a seemingly inexhaustible resource. TV A joined state agencies in an intensive fire control and reforestation campaign.

Today, with more than ninety-six per cent of the valley's fifteen million forested acres protected from fire, wood and wood-using industries have created employment for 50,000 persons. In addition to preventing soil erosion, planted trees provide the farmer with a money-crop on acres that previously were gullied and idle.

T

HE TV A reservoir system provides an additional valuable by-product, a recreational playground on and around its 10,000 miles of shoreline for millions of persons within a two-day journey. Boating, fishing and camping facilities abound. The recreation investment on TV A lakes is valued at more than $141 million.

TV A, while providing assistance and advice, neither develops nor operates recreation facilities, again providing only the tools of resource development for the use of the people.

TV A has become a symbolic example of "democracy in action" to peoples throughout the world. More than 1,500 representatives from other countries visit TV A each year. The changes that are taking place in the Tennessee Valley are in accord with those sought by men in every nation. As a result, many valley development projects in other countries are based on the TV A example.

But TV A's tasks are far from finished. A successful unified resource development programme must continually build for the future. Today, millions of tree seedlings are being planted in TVA's "Plant Trees-Grow Jobs" campaign, creating the raw materials for new employment in industry and greater wealth for the nation.

TV A's Tributary Area Development office works with local communities and area associations, organizing to use more effectively the resources available to them. Engineers are designing powerful, more efficient machines to supply enough low-cost power in the years to come.

United States Senator George Norris, the late leader of the legislative struggle for wise development of the Tennessee Valley, summed up the essence of TVA's desire to serve the people when he wrote: "Through all these ages the tyranny of poverty has been the unseen enemy of the people. It has been the provoker of wars between peoples.

"If in the years ahead new vigor comes to old and wooded hills not only in the basin of the Tennessee River but throughout America, and in other regions of the world, and laughter replaces the silence of impoverished peoples, that is well.".

GUNTERSVILLE DAM in Alabama is typical multi-purpose structure. It creates reservoir for floodwater regulation, backs up eighty-two mile navigation channel, produces 97,200 kilowatts of power.

For fishery students the "Brown Bear," the university's aceanographic research vessel, ;s a fully equipped, floating laboratory.

FORESTRY CLASS study serial photos, above, to determine areas and fertilized or replanted. Mechanical planter, right, enables students to plant full bed of correctly spaced rows of seedlings in one operation. to be thinned

BECAUSE SEATTLE is in the centre of Northwest America's timber industry, forestry students at the University encounter first-hand many of the forestry management and industry problems with which they will be concerned as foresters. Government preserves and private timber holdings serve as their laboratories and are regularly used in their four-year undergraduate curriculum. Established in 1907, the College of Forestry is designed to train men well qualified to protect and harvest the valuable U.S. forestry crops, and to convert raw wood materials into useful commercial products. Admission to the college, strictly competitive, is open to State, national, and international students, and before graduation, each must complete specialized courses in forestry as well as general studies in science and humanities. Also, a future forester must participate in an intensive summer programme at Pack Forest, a 2,300a<;:reUniversity forest. In research, students work side by side with professors and professionals in studying a variety of problems, such as grafting to improve seed, fertilizing to speed growth, and thinning to improve timber quality.

The end result is professional experts in conserving and developing an invaluable natural resource .â&#x20AC;˘

IN GROVE OF red alder trees, farestry student, above, measures trees in experimental plot to determine practicality

of promoting

growth by use offertilizers. timber tract fifty miles from university campus, students relax in forestry class lodge, left, ofter rugged day in the woods.

At laboratory

PANORAMA OF EVEREST area made by Barry C. Bishop, member of the expedition. Maunt Everest is dark peak in centre top. The great Khumbu Glacier in the middle ground is the road to the South Col and top of Everest.

The Everest

Expedition

IN

MAY 1963 the first American expedition to scale Mount Everest successfully scaled the 29,028-foot peak three times within three weeks. It achieved the first double assault on the world's hi~hest point of land with two teams meeting at the summit. The expedition also became the first to climb the extremely hazardous west ridge and the first to make a traverse of the mountain, climIJing one ~id(; and descending the other.

The expedition was sponsored by the National Geographic Society and was led by Norman Dyhrenfurth.

HEAVIL Y LADEN CLIMBERS clamber along Khumbu Glacier at /8,500 feet, en route to their initial assault on Everest. First to reach the peak were Dyhrenfurth and a Sherpa guide on May first.

l,-¡_:-- ) ',r.

ATOP EVEREST Barry Bishop holds up Stars and Stripes and National Geographic Society's flag. Bishop with Luther Jerstad scaled the peal< on NIaY 22nd.

PRESIDENT KENNEDY receives Buddhist ceremonial scarf from Nawang Gombu, Sherpa guide, Who"., accompanied Americon members of the expedition (looking on) to summit of Everest.

THIRTY-THREE Etv1INENT men met in Washington on a winter night in 1888 to form The National Geographic Society, as shown above in 0

painting by Stanley Meltzoff. The group included wellknown geologists, explorers, educators, naturalists, engineers, high-ranking officers of the Army and the Navy, and scientists from a number of fields.

Gardiner Greene Hubbard, seated at right and reading from the proposal he holds in his hands, was a Boston lawyer who had helped finance Alexander Graham Bell's telephone experiments. He became the Society's first president. Gilbert Grosvenor, left, chairman of the board, is a former president of the Society who guided its activities for fifty-five years from 1899 to 1954.

All photographs illustrating this article are copyrighted by The National Geographic Society and are reprintedfrom The National Geographic Magazine by courtesy of the Society.

ON

THE evening of January 13, 1888, a chill, dense fog smothered the streets of Washington, D.C. Carriages groped their way cautiously, setting courses by the dim, yellowish beacons of occasional gas lamps. It was a night to be home by the hearth.

Yet thirty-three distinguished men, most of them scientists, ventured abroad for a meeting at the Cosmos Club. Their purpose: to consider "the advisability of organizing a society for the increase and diffusion of geographical knowledge."

As a result of that meeting, and two others at the Cosmos Club the same month, the National Geographic Society was founded. Within a year, the Society gave birth to Volume I, Number I of the National Geographic Magazine. And within two and a half years, in 18go, the young organization sent out its first expedition of exploration and discovery.

Under Society sponsorship, scientists from the United States Geological Survey scaled the icy heights of southeastern Alaska, discovering, among other features, orth America's second highest peak-Ig,8So-foot Mount Logan, exceeded only by Mount McKinley-and Hubbard Glacier, a massive river of ice named foe the Society's first President, Gardiner Greene Hubbard.

Seventy-five

of

Years

Exploring

by Melvin M. Payne Executive Vice President and Secretary, The National Geographic Society

Israel Cook Russell, an outstanding geologist and an original member of the Society, led the team. Blizzards, fog, high winds, whirling dust, avalanches-the little group fought them all and won. The party successfully mapped some 600 square miles, studied iceberg formation, and gathered geological data still in use today.

In several ways, this first expedition set a pattern for the Society's 200 explorations and researches that have followed over the years. It triumphed over the forces of nature. It added to man's knowledge of his world. And it established a tradition of close co-operation between the National Geographic Society and agencies of the United States Government.

The Society has now completed three-quarters of a century dedicated to the increase and diffusion of geographic knowledge. Its historic ventures have probed the ends of the earth, the depths of the sea, and the enormously far reaches of the sky.

Robert E. Peary reaches the North Pole. Richard E. Byrd lands at Little America. William Beebe dives in the bathysphere. Explorer II lifts men to the stratosphere.

These are memories from the past, fOJ¡all time to come.

These are things the Society helped brave men do.

But what of the present? To my office overlooking 16th Street in Washington come messages such as these: "Fossil manlike jawbone found ...

12 to 14 million years old." ..

"Two gold rattles, one wooden idol, skulls of children. . .. Still diving."

"Rain and floods, roads closed, chimpanzees moving inland."

"Atlas of the planets going well. Mars pictures now complete."

These cryptic reports might seem as odd and diverse as the world is wide-and they are! For they came from Kenya, Mexico, Tanganyika, and Arizona to describe Society activities.

"Of all the sciences," Joseph Conrad wrote in the National Geographic of March, 1924, "geography finds its origin in action, and, what is more, in adventurous action."

This year the Society's 3,300,000 members are sponsoring adventurous action on a scale broader than ever.

A team of eighteen Americans supported by the Society this year climbed Mount Everest. Elsewhere, during the past year, the Society's flag has flown in the wilds of Brazil and New Guinea, where anthropologists

Reprinted by permission (rom The National

Geographic

Magaz;ne.

Š

1962 by The National Geographic Society. Inc.

"geography

finds its origin in action"

Seventy-five

Years of Exploring

sacrifices to the rain gods once gasped out their lives.

A temple then stood on the rim, and I could picture the priests and nobles in their vivid costumes, hear the chanting of worshippers, smell the pungent odour of burning incense, or copal, at this Mecca of the Maya.

"Chimpanzees moving inland .... " This message comes from Miss Jane Goodall, a courageous blond Englishwoman with the deceptive appearance of a schoolgirl. With Society support, this intrepid scientist has spent months in the wilds of Tanganyika, living among chimpanzees as their friend and even joining their hunts.

"Mars pictures now complete .... " Planet-watching has been for fifty-seven years the nightly pursuit of Dr. Earl C. Slipher of Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Arizona. With Society sponsorship, he is now compiling a unique Photographic Study of the Brighter Planets -Mars, Venus, Mercury, Saturn, and Jupiter. His atlas has been aptly dubbed "a road map for astronauts."

HIGH IN THE ANDES of Peru lies Machu Picchu, lost city of the Incas.

Spanish conquerors failed to find this citadel which the Incas left to the jungle when their empire crumbled. For three centuries it was forgotten until its discovery by Hiram Bingham, later a U.S. Senator, who led three National Geographic- Yale University expeditions to the site in 19/2-15.

Of the 20 I expeditions and researches supported by the National Geographic Society in its first seventy-five years, 130 were undertaken during the fifty-five years in which the fortunes of the growing Society and its magazine were guided by Dr. Gilbert H. Grosvenor.

If the world-wide National Geographic Society can be said to be the long shadow of anyone man, that man is Dr. Grosvenor, today, at eighty-seven, the beloved Chairman of the Society's Board of Trustees. At the age of twenty-three he was given the reins of the magazine

by Alexander Graham Bell. By the time of his retirement as President and Editor in 1954, Dr. Grosvenor had built the Society from a tiny, struggling organization to a world power for knowledge, with 2,150,000 member-families in 173 countries.

In the words of the late Dr. John Oliver La Gorce, his associate for forty-nine years and his successor as President and Editor, Gilbert Grosvenor was "the architect and master builder" of the Society. During his years as chief executive, the Geographic flag was borne to both the highest and the lowest points that had yet been reached by man. It crossed both Poles, and explorers carried it

deep into other unknown regions of the earth. Society expeditions and grants led to the founding of national parks and unearthed the oldest dated work of man yet found in the Americas.

Today the Society's activities go forward under the vigorous leadership of President and Editor Melville Bell Grosvenor. Some of the nation's most distinguished scientists serve on the Committee for Research and Exploration. Its Chairman is Dr. Leonard Carmichael, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. A former Director of the National Bureau of Standards, Dr. Lyman J. Briggs, is Chairman Emeritus. The Society's programme, past and present, owes much to these gifted men, who have an intimate understanding of basic research and its assorted problems.

An elderly lady called at our offices one day. First she expressed thanks to the Society for inviting her to become a member~ Then, quite seriously, she added, "But I am afraid that at my age I shall not be able to go off on all those expeditions."

Though now seventy-five, the Society itself will never be too old for adventure. There is no dearth of able young men and women to carry its blue, brown, and green flag.

"How much roaming space does a grizzly bear need?"

"How many fish can a coral reef support?"

Determining the roving area of grizzlies may help save this threatened species from extinction. Since 1959, Drs. Frank and John Craighead, of the Montana Cooperative Wildlife Research Unit, have been working in Yellowstone National Park to learn not only the animals' range but facts about their food, breeding, hibernation, cub mortality, and life span. Their studies even include taking blood samples from the bears-no easy task.

The Craigheads first immobilize their quarry with a harmless muscle relaxant; an anaesthetic then puts the beasts to sleep while' the scientists work. When the bears are released, disgruntled but unscathed, they wear bright ear tags and miniature radio transmitters affixed to plastic collars.

On one occasion a big male shook off the drug prematurely, and for a few long seconds the Craigheads were the subjects of a potentially homicidal study by the grizzly!

The spirit of scientific inquiry behind such projects is a direct legacy from those thirty-three men who founded the Society, and from the great explorers of the Geographic's earliest years.

As this century opened, the North Pole stood as the ultimate geographic challenge. It awaited conquest by a dauntless U.S. Navy commander who had been gaining a reputation for polar exploration.

Robert E. Peary had written for the National Geographic in its very first year-Vol. I, NO.4-an account of his trip across Nicaragua to trace the route of a proposed canal.

When he began his relentless drives into the frozen north, the Society encouraged and supported him. Peary lost eight frozen toes on one journey. On another he broke his leg. But he would not surrender his dream.

He had the Society's financial backing when, in 1909, he made his final dash. "Stars and Stripes nailed to the Pole," the jubilant explorer radioed to the world.

The Far 1 orth was the early proving ground of another famous explorer long identified with the Society, Richard E. Byrd. As a young naval officer, he led an aerial group attached to the 1925 expedition of Lt. Comdr. (now Rear Adm., Ret.) Donald B. MacMillan, co-sponsored by the Society and the Navy.

Daily the expedition maintained contact with the outside world by the new marvel of short-wave radio, and people around the globe followed these reports avidly.

Byrd and his aviators flew more than 6,000 miles and observed 30,000 square miles of territory. Expedition scientists collected flowers, birds, and mammals never

out before scientifically studied; National Geographic photographers brought back the first natural-colour photographs of Arctic life and scenes. .

Soon after, Byrd wrote prophetically, "Aviation will conquer the Arctic-and the Antarctic, too." When he became the first man to fly over both North and South Poles (1926 and 1929 respectively), he gave generous credit to the ingenious sun compass invented by Albert H. Bumstead, first Chief of the Society's Cartographic Division.

The Society contributed substantially in funds and research assistance to the first two of Admiral Byrd's five expeditions into the Antarctic Continent. These explorations mapped hundreds of thousands of square miles never before seen by man. Byrd named Grosvenor Range, La Gorce Mountains, and Mount Bumstead for Society officials.

Until his death the "Admiral" was a Society Trustee.

Since its inception, the Society has scanned the sky and recorded the epic of its conquest-from Alexander Graham Bell's man-carrying tetrahedral kites to the X-15 rocket plane and astronauts who dare space itself.

My own first two assignments for the Society made me an eyewitness to aviation history-the epochal flights of the stratosphere balloons, Explorer 1and Explorer II. Both went aloft from the Cape Canaveral of that era, the Stratobowl-a cliff-encircled depression in the Black Hills of South Dakota near Rapid City. There the Society and the U.S. Army Air Corps, co-sponsors of the flights, built a tent city to house the myriad technicians, scientists, and specially trained troops required for the assaults on the fringe of space. Setting up, supplying, and maintaining that little city became my chief and constant concern.

Dr. Thomas W. McKnew, now Vice Chairman of our Board of Trustees, was Project Officer for the Society. I served as his assistant, in close partnership with Army personnel.

Shortly after sunrise on July 28, 1934, Explorer 1 rose from the floodlighted bowl carrying three passengers, Maj. William E. Kepner, Capt. Albert W. Stevens, and Capt. Orvil A. Anderson, in its magnesium-alloy gondola.

All went well until the huge gas bag ripped as it rose past. the 60,000-foot level.

Down it came, the long fall becoming faster and faster. When uncomfortably near the ground, the hydrogenfilled bag exploded, as all three men leaped for their lives by parachute. Luckily no one was injured.

Nearly sixteen months passed before a second attempt could be made. Various delays plagued us in that period, and the weather often turned bitterly cold as the autumn of '35 waned. Snow fell, a prelude to the heavier storms of late fall and winter. Everyone grew increasingly anxious.

Everyone, I should say, but Stevens and Anderson.

They would make the second attempt as a two-man team, and both remained remarkably calm. Stevens, the leader, who had originally conceived the flights, kept in trim by climbing like a frisky goat on the nearby cliffs, frightening all orus. He, however, always seemed totally without fear, and I recall he once fell sound asleep during a discussion of the hazards of the flight.

Finally, on November 1I, 1935, Explorer II whisked Stevens and Anderson from the bowl. Grouped around radios, millions of Americans heard their conversation as they drifted upward to 72,395 feet, a record for man's farthest journey aloft that endured for twenty-one years.

After eight hours and thirteen minutes above the earth, the men came safely to rest near White Lake, South Dakota, 225 miles from the launching site.

Explorer II carried sixty-four scientific instruments totalling one ton. They revealed reams of startling new data on the thin upper atmosphere. In addition, Stevens and Anderson demonstrated that man could live and work in an environment almost as hostile as the dark reaches of space. Scientific reports of the flight became the broad

of

the past,

into the future

foundation for much of the United States' subsequent research on the vertical frontier.

General of the Army H. H. ("Hap") Arnold, U.S. Army Air Forces, was to write Dr. Gilbert Grosvenor ten years later: "We owe much to that flight. The contributions by your Society, the scientists you interested in the pioneering effort, and the cooperation you gave the Army Air Forces bore fruit in World War II far in advance of what was imagined to be the results at the time."

The Society's interest in the lonely reaches of the sky began long before the Explorer flights. Officers at the time of our founding included a "Vice President for the Air," who made annual reports on meteorological phenomena.

Our fourth expedition, to Norfolk, Virginia, in 1900, studied a solar eclipse.

Earth's mother star, the sun, without which life could not exist, has been investigated by many expeditions. In 1936, two teams of scientists journeyed to Asiatic Russia to

THE APES ACCEPT Jane Goodall as a strange lives in the wild bush of Tanganyika to gather For the most part she has found them peaceful was struck by an angry male ape. Her work is Geographic Society.

kind of monkey when she data on chimpanzee life. companions but once she sponsored by the National

observe a blackout of the sun's face. The following year, in co-operation with the U.S. Navy, the Society sent scientists to Canton Island in mid-Pacific to view the longest solar eclipse in 1,200 years.

In 1947 the U.S. Army Air Forces flew a seventy-sixman eclipse team and seventy-five tons of equipment to a specially built airstrip at Bocaiuva, Brazil, 400 miles north of Rio de Janeiro. Nearby, a tent city rose under the Society's flag. As Project Officer, I shuttled to and from the site in a wild variety of aircraft. Once I flew in aboard an old Brazilian cargo plane that literally had sagged under the weight of an electric generator.

"There's nothing to be concerned about," a helpful crewman reassured me. "The plane is condemned anyhow."

As eclipse day, May 20, approached, I worried about the persistently cloudy sky. Father Francis Heyden, S.J., of Georgetown College Observatory, was a member of our party. I suggested to him that he had the accredited channels of communication to do something about the weather.

Father Heyden said he would see what he could do, and I'm sure he did. The skies cleared just long enough that morning to get excellent photographs and observations!

GAPING TEAR in the gas bag af Explorer I ended a Natianal Geographic-U.S. Army attempt in 1934 to probe the stratosphere. The rip widened until at 7,000 feet, top photo, the bag resembled a parachute. Minutes later it exploded and the gondola and (abric plunged earthward, left photo, to crash in a Nebraska cornfield, right photo.

to the top of the air

HISTORIC FLIGHT of Explorer II began at down on November II, 1935, bottom photo. Stevens, left in photo just below, and Anderson, who made the successful second flight, checked out the instruments in their gondola before take-off. Climbing from the Stratobowl in South Dakota, the helium-filled bag rose to 72,395 feet above sea level-a record altitude Photo by Richard H. Stewart for manned croft which stood for twenty-one years.

LIKE A STONE, Explorer I's gondola dropped. When Captain Albert W. Stevens tried to climb out of the hatch, wind pressure held him half in, half out. Major William E. Kepner shoved him cleor with his foot, then jumped. Their parachutes opened a few hundred feet above the ground.

Captain Orvil A. Anderson, upper right, had parachuted first.

In 1956 the Society and the California Institute of Technology completed their monumental Sky Atlas, one of the most significant achievements in the history of astronomy. Prepared at Palomar Observatory, it mapped a volume of space at least twenty-five times as large as ever before charted. Its 1,758 photographic plates disclosed new comets and asteroids, thousands of unknown galactic "island universes," and billions of heavenly bodies as far as six sextillion (six followed by 21 zeros) miles away.

The Sky Survey, made with Palomar's 48-inch "Big Schmidt" telescopic camera, took seven long years, instead of the four originally planned. It gave rise to certainly the most distant namesake of the Society-a baby planet, an asteroid that was named Geographos in recognition of our part in making possible this magnificent survey of space.

Research in the upper atmosphere and the challenging void beyond has written one of the proudest chapters in the Society's research history. Long before space studies became popular, the Society believed in their great potential and helped pioneer the field.

Similarly, the Society engaged in man-beneath-thesea research decades before the invention of self-contained underwater b~eathing apparatus made such work commonplace. In 1934, while probing the stratosphere, the Society also supported two undersea pioneers, William Beebe and Otis Barton, who were lowered in their bathysphere to a record 3,028 feet off Bermuda. Dictating from his round steel ball to his secretary far above, Beebe described "a world as strange as Mars," while Barton photographed weird and glittering creatures that floated and swam by their windows in the sea.

Other oceanographic projects have also contributed greatly to man's knowledge of the undersea frontier.

In 1947-48, the Society joined Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and Columbia University to support an investigation of the submerged Mid-Atlantic Ridge, an undersea mountain range that runs for 10,000 miles from Iceland almost to Antarctica. Led by Prof. Maurice Ewing

to the cellar of the sea

AN EARTHQUAKE TIPPED Port Royal, Jamaica, into the sea in 1692.

This brass watch, recovered by a National Geographic-Smithsonian

Institution team which mapped the sunken city, fixed the hour

of the

quake.

A bottle, bottom photo, which drowned with Port Royal, yielded 267-yearold wine to a hypodermic needle.

Sea Diver, a daring Belgian named Robert Stenuit spent a record twenty-six hours in a unique "undersea elevator," 200 feet down in the Mediterranean off Villefranche, on the French Riviera. Although fifty-eight years old, Link himself had previously spent eight hours submerged.

The eleven-foot-long tank, designed by Link as the first stage of a "Man-in-Sea" system, was filled with a special mixture of helium and oxygen under pressure matching that of the sea outside. Thus Stenuit, breathing normally, could talk on a telephone to the surface, eat, and even sleep. He could open his hatch and, wearing normal free-diver's gear, leave on excursions into the depths.

Hauled back to the surface quickly, rather than stage by stage, Stenuit-still in his tank-could spend the normal long decompression period on the deck of the ship. While an air conditioner kept him cool, he smiled through a porthole at his wife.

In September, also in the Mediterranean, two divers of Captain Cousteau's team-Albert Falco and Claude Wessly-descended some thirty-three feet to a similar but larger cylindrical chamber, where they stayed seven days.

Their temporary home contained two rooms, one a living space, the other a workshop. From it the frogmen swam out each morning, building concrete fish houses and planting plastic kelp to lure sea creatures.

Their shelter was linked with the surface by air pipe, power line, telephone, and television. It had running water, heat, and light. A doctor visited the men each day. When one diver developed a toothache, a dentist swam down with a drill.

Both experiments, designed to test man's reactions to prolonged periods under great pressure, foretell a day when technicians may make extended undersea searches for

Seventy-five

Years of Exploring

oil or other minerals, or workmen may stay down for days or weeks at underwater farming or construction projects.

Most archaeologists comb the dust for their finds, but George Bass, of the University of Pennsylvania Museum, seeks his on the floor of the eastern Mediterranean off the coast of Turkey. There he and his colleagues, sent by the museum and the Society, last summer excavated the ruins of a Byzantine ship. A find of gold coins, showing the head of Heraclius, 7th-century Byzantine emperor, enabled them to date the shipwreck. From an inscribed metal bar they even learned the name of the skipper, George the Elder, who went down with his vessel.

Mr. Bass and his Crew adapt precise landdig and surveying methods to undersea conditions. They set up underwater drafting frames, grids, and plane tables to prepare accurate charts of the wreck, use frosted plastic to sketch locations, and attach plastic tags to their finds.

"When the excavation is completed," says Mr. Bass,

EIGHT HUNDRED ROOMS, clinging together like a honeycomb, (ormed the thousand-year-old Red Indian city o( Pueblo Bonito. It was unearthed in a New Mexico canyon by eight National Geographic expeditions.

"we want a plan that would enable a shipwright to build a Byzantine vessel-plank by plank and nail by nail."

Not far away, on land, another team dug into the dusty past of the Old City of Jerusalem. Dr. Kathleen Kenyon, a British archaeologist, is undertaking a seven-year research programme supported by various organizations, including the Society.

The first two years, just completed, produced reliable evidence on the location and extent of the city's early settlement, ancient walls, and sacred sites. There are indications that Jerusalem was much larger during the early Jewish kingdom than had been believed, that walls supposedly dating from the time of David and Solomon were actually built in the second century B.C., and that the accepted site of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is authentic.

A number of our Ig63 activities represent continuing projects. At Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado, for example, scientists continue five years of archaeological detective work into the mysterious past of Pueblo Indian cliff dwellers who flourished amid the arid hills for centuries, then vanished.

Co-sponsored by the Society and the National Park

Service, the work at Mesa Verde seeks to preserve the crumbling ruins of cliff-side communities at Wetherill Mesa, an area within the park. One ghost settlement, Long House, has been cleared. Others, such as Step House, Badger House, Mug House, and Two-Raven House, eventually will become sightseeing attractions. Meanwhile burial pits, pottery, tools, basketry, and ornaments emerge from the debris.

On visits to Wetherill Mesa, I have clambered laboriously down steep canyon walls to reach apartments of these vanished cliff dwellers. I can testify that they must have been a sure-footed people, untroubled by vertigo.

Some of their dwellings are accessible only by small footholds chiselled into the cliff.

A systematic, almost foot-by-foot investigation of the area is under way so that we may know more about these cliff people. Last August, in Step House, excavators unearthed a naturally mummified Indian baby wrapped in rabbit skins and a feather blanket. A curious stone pit, probable site of secret religious ceremonies, also came to light.

Altogether, thirty-two interrelated studies-from soil analysis to collecting plants and insects-converge at Wetherill Mesa. From the findings, investigators hope to learn how the cliff dwellers lived, the crops they grew, the game they hunted, the rites they practised, andabove all-what happened to them.

Did they abandon their homes because of a devastating drought? Or did powerful enemies drive them away?

Present evidence lends support to both theories.

"When the returns are in," says Dr., Douglas Osborne, supervising archaeologist, "I believe the Wetherill Mesa project will stand as one of the most fruitful 'in-depth' operations of its kind ever undertaken. It asks not only the questions of what, where, and when, but the infinitely more difficul~ ones of how and why."

The work at Mesa Verde is closely akin to an earlier project, the Society's classic excavation of Pueblo Bonito in Chaco Canyon National Monument, New Mexico. It, too, was the home of pre-Columbian Pueblo Indians, and a task force led by Neil M. Judd of the Smithsonian Institution saved the pueblo during the Ig20'S. At the same time the Society sent other expeditions to Pueblo Bonito under Dr. Andrew Ellicott Douglass, who dated the ruins by his technique of reading annual growth rings in trees used as beams by the original builders.

Dr. Douglass charted the rings of tree3 whose felling time was known, matched them to overlapping patterns of older trees, and developed a tree-ring calendar that could be applied to the oldest beam unearthed at Pueblo Bonito.

It was cut in the year gIg. In Ig6I the Society presented to the National Park Service one of the oldest known homes of primitive man in the southeastern United States-Russell Cave near Bridgeport, Alabama. The cave, purchased by the Soeiety, had been excavated over a three-year period in co-operation with the Smithsonian Institution. Probing the cavern's floor to a depth of thirty-two feet, diggers brought up tools, weapons, utensils, and bones from successive layers of family living. The record goes back from the last and topmost layer of occupancy, about A.D. I650, to more than 7000 B.C. Russell Cave has been designated a national monument

by President Kennedy. A new visitors' centre, dramatizing the cave's past, was opened this year.

Our first archaeological expedition, in IgI2, uncovered the most spectacular find in the history of South American exploration: Machu Picchu, lost city of the Incas, built centuries ago on a Peruvian mountaintop.

A young Yale professor, Hiram Bingham-later a U.S. Senator-led the excavators. After three years of digging, conducted with Yale University support, the Inca citadel

the pageant emerged in rows of stone buildings, all linked by thousands of stone stairs climbing dizzily up the precipitous slopes.

The longest and most extensive of our many archaeological programmes was a series of interrelated studies in Mexico, Panama, and Ecuador from 1938 to 1957.

During those years fifteen expeditions, sponsored jointly by the Society and the Smithsonian, went out. Thirteen were led by Dr. Matthew W. Stirling, then Director of the Smithsonian's Bureau of American Ethnology, and two

by Dr. Philip Drucker, also of the Smithsonian.

These expeditions sought knowledge of vanished Red Indian cultures. The finds ranged from colossal basalt heads weighing twenty tons to delicately carved jade figures smaller than a fingernail. A stone stele unearthed near Veracruz, Mexico, proved to be the oldest dated work of man found in the Western Hemisphere. It bore an inscription in Maya dot-dash symbols equivalent to November 4, 291 B.C. (Spinden correlation).

of

human society

that President Wilson in 1918 preserved the area as Katmai National Monument.

Katmai is one of seven areas that the Society has helped the Government to establish or enlarge as either national parks or monuments.

Willis T. Lee explored the dark and labyrinthine passages of Carlsbad Caverns, New Mexico, for the Society and the U.S. Geological Survey during the early 1920'S. National Geographic descriptions and photographs of its underground wonders led to Carlsbad becoming a national park in 1930.

T

0 WREST such information from jungle wilderness or mountain heights requires stamina and courage. On many expeditions physical discomfort becomes a way of life, and mishaps sometimes occur.

Richard H. Stewart, Assistant Chief of our Photographic Laboratory, nearly drowned when raging river waters overturned a dugout canoe in Central America.

Members of a 1948 expedition to Australia's Stone Age Arnhem Land, among them Howell Walker of our Foreign Editorial Staff, were shipwrecked on that bleak coast, and for a time were believed lost.

We tell our representatives there is nothing they can bring back so precious as their lives. Careful planning and good equipment lessen the risk.

On one expedition, the planning even included how to avoid being shot. Bandits infested China in the 1920'S when botanist Joseph F. Rock led several plant-collecting expeditions into the interior. So Dr. Rock hired his own small private army, and they fought off many attacks.

On one occasion he spent the night in the burial chamber of an old temple, sitting among coffins with his precious plants and two .45-calibre pistols beside him, while brigands prowled around the walls of a village his "army" had occupied.

Dr. Rock brought home valuable zoological and botanical specimens, including a blight-resistant chestnut tree. He also explored, mapped, and photographed regions new to Western cartographers.

Part of the fascination of research is that it often produces totally unexpected results. For example, one would not expect a botanical expedition to discover a physical wonder of the world. But it happened.

In 1915 the Society sent a small party to Alsaka under botanist Robert F. Griggs. Three years earlier Mount Katmai had literally blown its top, and Dr. Griggs wanted to study the explosion's effects on vegetation.

Having recorded some interesting phenomena, Griggs's team returned in 1916. While making a routine field trip along the Katmai Pass trail, Dr. Griggs saw a puff of smoke rise from behind a hill. He climbed the hill and looked down into a seething miles-long inferno. Plumes of steam, thousands of them, rose high in the air from the boiling, hissing caldrons of fumaroles.

"It was as though all the steam engines in the world, assembled together, had popped their safety valves at once," Dr. Griggs wrote later in the Magazine.

He named his discovery the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes. The Society sent four more expeditions to the Mount Katmai region, and articles in the National Geographic Magazine on the valley's weird sights so stirred public interest

FROM DUST OF CENTURIES emerges the skull and pottery of an ancient inhabitant of cliff-dwelling built in the natural caves of Mesa Verde in Colorado.

Individual members of the Society contributed $ I 00,000 to save the big trees of California's Sequoia National Park. Later the Society made a lump-sum grant to help create Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.

Year by year, as earth's untouched IJlaces shrink, explorers must move faster if they would see and record examples of primitive life before they vanish forever.

In the remote, unpacified highlands of West New Guinea, Karl Heider hurries to finish a still- and motionpicture ethnographic survey of the Stone Age Dani people before a government programme brings this tribe into the 20th century. The Society and the Peabody Museum of Harvard University support Mr. Heider's important photographic documentary.

Seventy-five

Years of Exploring

TOP OF THE EARTH, the 29,028-foot peak of Mount Everest, was scaled three times in three weeks in May of this year by a National Geographic Society expedition led by Norman Dyhrenfurth. The expedition collected data related to six different scientific research projects, including a psychological study of individual and group behaviour under conditions of great stress and stimulus.

In Brazil Dr. Harald Schultz, of the Sao Paulo State Museum, faces a similar problem. Civilization is moving rapidly up the Sangue River towards another remote and primitive tribe, the Canoeiro. Dr. Schultz's camera captures their eternally dark huts and ancient tools, bright feather garments, and the huge wooden disks that stretch their earlobes. His tape recorder preserves their straqge music, songs, and language.

But time is running out. When the long-feared Canoeiro went off the warpath recently, rubber tappers, diamond prospectors, cattle breeders-and even criminals fleeing justice-began to move into the area.

You could stock a sizable Noah's Ark with the birds, animals, and insects that Society explorers have observedand sometimes discovered--in their native haunts.

"We have found the curlew's nest," said a terse telegram received at our headquarters on June 18, 1948.

It came from Dr. Arthur A. Allen, Professor of Ornithology at Cornell University, who had traced the nesting place of the bristle-thighed curlew to a lonely field in southwest Alaska.

Though known to ornithologists for 163 years, this member of the sandpiper family was the last of all North American birds to yield the secret of its fledgling young.

Dr. S. Dillon Ripley of Yale University's Peabody Museum scored another spectacular find the same year in Nepal when he captured the first specimen of a spiny babbler seen alive by a foreigner in !os years.

For years reports from our natural history expeditions have provided some of my most interesting reading-tales of vanishing birds of paradise in New Guinea, a totally new species of honey creeper in the Amazon Valley, the strange courtship practices of British Guiana's cock-of-the-rock.

My mail discloses strange facts about pink flamingos in the BahalTIas, the rare and beautiful scarlet ibis of Venezuela, a new species of thicket warbler in New Britain, the monkey-eating crowned hawk eagle of South Africa.

Among the most curious is the raucous, pheasant-sized hoatzin, a bird that climbs better than it flies. Indigenous to lonely upriver shores in British Guiana, it has claws on its wings, and long, curling eyelashes.

Studies of butterflies flitting through the rain forests of Trinidad, of the world's biggest ants and giant beetles crawling about the jungles of northern Brazil-these and many other projects have given the world new knowledge of the way insects live, mate, and outwit or battle their enemies.

Just as the Society's first expedition in 1890 challenged a formidable mountain foe, so too, in our Diamond Anniversary year, dedicated men face another.

One: of the Society's latest grants has supported a successful American expedition in its ascent of Mount Everest in May of this year. Six members of the expedition reached the summit. The purpose was not simply an assault on Everest's peak and those of neighbouring Lhotse and Nuptse; instead, some basic questions were asked of the inscrutable white-crowned giants. For example, what effect does this highest land mass have upon the world's weather?

Specialists, including National Geographic Foreign Editorial Staff member Barry C. Bishop and geologist Maynard M. Miller of Michigan State University, studied the mountains' rocks and ice, solar radiation, atmosphere, and other phenomena.

In spite of oxygen equipment, the climbers' muscles, nerves, and mental processes deteriorate gradually in the thin, bitter air. Physiologists studied this deterioration, and psychologists observed changes in individual and group behaviour stemming from a prolonged state of stress.

As it has been for the past seventy-five years, the goal was new geographic knowledge. New knowledge-the most frustrating, rewarding, and enviable of pursuits!.

Peace through

Rule of Law

This article is excerpted from an address delivered by U.S. Chief Justice Earl Warren in Nicosia, Cyprus, on July 16th before an invited audience of Cypriot Government officials, the diplomatic corps, jurists, attorneys and community leaders.

I

T IS true of all countries that their institutions and their laws to be effective must be indigenous to the soil. That is the reason there are few if any countries that have identical laws and institutions.

I think that sometimes in this changing world some of us are too often inclined to believe that the newly liberated countries must have institutions exactly like our own. During the past fifteen years when the number of independent countries has more than doubled I often think of the English poet, who 150 years ago in his essay on man said: "For forms of government, let fools contest.

What e'er is best administered is best."

In this regard I also recall what the late Mr. Justice Holmes of the United States Supreme Court said. He was a very learned man and a distinguished legal philosopher. His words were: "The life of the law is experience." In the same vein he said: "A page of history is worth a volume of logic."

When the United States came into being it was as poor as any on earth. It was composed of thirteen colonies scattered along the Atlantic coast of North America. They were of different sizes and interests. The envious eyes of all the European powers were on them and the question was whether they could maintain common interests in time of peace as they had done during seven years of devastating war for their independence. They solved the problem by dedicating themselves to the principle that we should have "a government of laws and not of men" and by implementing our Declaration of Independence which stated that "all men are created equal" and that each is entitled to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." These principles have been our national objectives from that day to this.

Over the entrance to our Supreme Court Building in Washington are engraved the words "Equal Justice under Law." We would like to believe we had already achieved that end. But as we see evidence of injustice paraded before us in the Court Room we are forced to the conclusion that it is the goal of our nation and not its actual accomplishment.

As you perhaps read in the press, our nation is now in the

throes of wiping out the last vestiges of discrimination, against people of every race, colour and creed. The President of the United States has already taken administrative action where that is possible and has recommended to the Congress a comprehensive legislative programme for protecting the civil rights of everyone in every part of our country. When that is done we will be a happier people and a stronger nation.

I cite this illustration to indicate that the preservation of civil rights is an unending process. We believe that by and large Americans have as much freedom as people in any place on earth but we have not yet reached our goal and to do so we must work at it constantly.

We who are practising democracy today are often inclined to believe that it is our own invention, but it must be remembered that centuries before the birth of Christ there were a score of democratic cities flourishing around the Mediterranean Sea. They flourished for a time but finally the people became complacent about their freedom.

They lacked the will to struggle for it and one by one they succumbed to other powers.

The one that lasted the longest-for a thousand years -was Rome, and that was largely because Rome was guided by the rule oflaw.

Sir Frederick Pollock, the great English legal scholar, once said that any ordinarily prepared student in an English or American law school will define title to an estate quickly and without any trouble, but that lawyers and judges who have given their lives to the study of legal principles will hesitate a long time in the face of the apparently simple question, "What is law?"

The ancient Greeks saw the profundity of this question, and they did not hesitate to attempt to answer it. They thought of it as naked force, as a class instrument, as the command of the community, as a discovery about reality.

In short, their view of it extended from the severely pragmatic to the philosophical.

The poets, the philosophers and political theorists, the dramatists, and the historians, all joined in the quest to unearth the elusive nature of law. But they did not stop

it must spring from the hearts

The lawyers of the world should be the first to agree that the responsibility is theirs to initiate a movement to have the problems of nations solved by means other than war. There are a million or more lawyers in the world who realize to some degree at least the importance of this fact.

Many are interested but have no practical outlet for their energy; others are trapped in the indifference that has encased the world on this subject for such a long time. If we are to make real progress, all must be aroused, and be made aware that they have a job to do. If world peace is our goal, we must make it our preoccupation. If we believe that it can be accomplished only through world law, then we must agree upon these principles that are recognized by all nations as inherent in our twentieth century civilization.

of

the people

We must advocate laws that will make those principles the guiding force in the lives of nations and people everywhere.

Someone asked Solon 2500 years ago how justice could be achieved in Athens. His answer, in substance, was that justice could be achieved whenever those who were not injured by injustice were as outraged as those who had been.

That is as true today as it was in ancient Athens. It is as true between nations as it is between men. It is our great privilege as it is our most important responsibility to bring about that sentiment in our own nations and throughout the world.

In that respect, the first world conference of lawyers of a hundred countries-held in June of this year to discuss Peace through a World Rule of Law-may, as a beginning, have been even more effective than an international convention of our respective Governments. Historically, nations have rarely met except to resolve differences and usually in an atmosphere of tension. We met not to settle disputes, but to define the areas of agreement upon which we can build a better world order. We were not there to bargain.

We were there to explore friendship. We met in an atmosphere of friendship and understanding. vVe met humbly and on but one level.

We did not expect miracles to flow from the conference. There will be no radical changes but surely it is not too early to create a climate of opinion in which world law can sprout and grow to maturity in the years to come.

It does seem somewhat ironical that at this first world-wide conference of lawyers in history that we should have been discussing the law of space, before we have learned to live together on this world.

But it is never too late to work for a good cause. In the lifetimes of many of us we have had two world wars.

The second war infinitely more destructive than the first.

A third would undoubtedly take our civilization to the brink of destructi0n.

Surely man has not struggled through millennia of history only to use the knowledge he has acquired to destroy everything that is worthwhile. There has been sufficient wisdom accumulated to put our knowledge to good use rather than to destroy mankind and we should search our hearts and minds for the means. We should acknowledge our indebtedness to those who preceded us and use the best of what they bequeathed to us.

We in the United States believe in peace; peace with dignity for all. We realize that such a peace can only come through law.

In the Court over which I have the honour to preside, we endeavour to keep this realization constantly before us.

On the frieze of the walls of our Court Room, carved in stone, we have the likenesses of lawgivers through the ages.

As we listen to the arguments of counsel and judge the cases according to our present concepts of law and justice, these figures look down upon us, and we up towards them. To our left are nine lawgivers before the Christian Era-Menes of Egypt, Hammurabi of Babylon, Moses and Solomon of Israel, Lycurgus, Solon and Draco of Greece, Confucius of China and Augustus of Rome. To our right are those who came afterwards-Justinian of Rome, Mohammed of Islam, Charlemagne of Germany, King John of England, St. Louis of France, Hugo Grotius of Holland, Blackstone of England, Napoleon of France, and Marshall of the United States.

John Marshall is known as America's great Chief Justice because his great decisions put flesh and sinews upon the bare bones of our new Constitution, and because he did more than any other man of law in our history to weld us into a nation capable of making a federal republic function properly from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. But the principles of the Constitution which he interpreted came to us from these other lawgivers to whom we thus humbly acknowledge our indebtedness .â&#x20AC;˘

A Great Sea Change the growth

IN THE century that saw its full flowering in the poems and plays of the Elizabethan age, the English language began its circumnavigation of the world. Its first syllables reached the Western Hemisphere in 1497 when John Cabot, an Italian-born explorer in British employ, sailed from Bristol across the cold, uncharted ocean and claimed Newfoundland in the name of King Henry VII. Farther south, Captain John Smith founded the first permanent English settlement in North America at Jamestown in 1607.

In 1620 the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock.

On the other side of the globe the process of linguistic expansion was also gaining headway. It had begun in 1600 with the founding of the East India Company in response to the Dutch maritime challenge. Within the next few decades the first Englishspeaking settlements in Asia were established at Madras, Bombay and Calcutta. Midway in the 18th Century the English language reached the antipodes, when Captain Cook raised the British flag over New Zealand and Australia. In 1795 English came to Africa with the occupation of Cape Town, and thence spread gradually northward to the Nile. Thus radiating to all points of the compass from London town across thousands of miles of perilous seas, the winds of trade and business enterprise conveyed the language of England in its literary heyday to the far places of both hemispheres.

The first colonists arrived in America at a time when the plays of Shakespeare, Marlowe and Ben Jonson were magnificently unfolding the splendors of their native tongue-the time of Hamlet, Macbeth, Doctor Faustus and Volpone. The language that disembarked at Jamestown and Plymouth was Elizabethan English, rich and resourceful, fluid and flexible,

ready to borrow and invent, quick to clip or compound words, or to interchange parts of speech. And so, since the colonial period when the Old World and the New were separated by vast spans of open sea and months of travel time, the American language has sailed down its own roadsteads on a course of its own devising.

Many features of standard American speech were inventions devised to. meet the necessities of a new existence and made possible by the virtuosity of the English tongue. For how else were the pioneers to describe the features of a strange new land, mantled with strange trees and shrubs, haunted by strange animals, flecked with strange birds and peopled by strange aborigines speaking a strange language and pursuing strange ways of life? Many "Americanisms" are borrowings from this strange language.

Yet curiously, many others are in fact archaisms, relics of the pure Elizabethan speech imported by the original colonists and preserved in use in the U.S., while the mother tongue of the homeland gradually digressed and diverged from the 17th Century forms and accents once shared in common.

The survival of these Elizabethan elements in American speech is, however, no unique linguistic phenomenon. For all transplanted languages tend to preserve their conservative features. Thus today similar vestiges of the past live on in Canadian French, in Icelandic Norse and in the Spanish of Latin America, though they have long since evaporated from the ancient fountains of speech whence once they sprang. The fact that many Americanisms are actually survivors from the golden age of English literature has been known to scholars for more than a century. It inspired James Russell Lowell's dry observation that the American colonists "unhappily could bring over no English better

of

American

the English

than Shakespeare's."

The areas of divergence between American and British English lie mostly in vocabulary and pronunciation -the spoken word. Literary English remains more or less standard on all continents. Differences in grammar and syntax are inconsequential, and where they do appear it is often American English that has preserved the earlier form. A notable example is found in the past participle of the verb to get. Americans employ two forms-got and gotten. Thus in the U.S. one may say "I've got five dollars"connoting present possession. One may also say "I've just gotten a new car" -indicating recent acquisition. An Englishman never uses gotten; he considers it incorrect, discordant and an Americanism. But gotten was once the proper participial form. In Middle English the infinitive e>fthe verb to get was geten; the past tense was gat; and the past participle was getten. In time gat became got, and getten became gotten. Toward the middle of the 17th Century the final syllable of gotten withered and faded away in England, though it flourishes lustily as ever in both written and spoken American usage today.

Another small grammatical distinction between British and American English lies in the treatment of colgovernment, crowd, lective nouns-like company, team and the like. In England the tendency is to regard such words as plural and to follow them with plural verbs and pronouns-as in such a sentence as "The government have committed themselves to ... " An analogous sentence in the U.S. would read: "The administration has committed itself to . . ." Similarly, in another domain, a British newspaper reporting a regatta won by the crew of Jesus College, Oxford, might headline its story: JESUS ROW TO CLOSE VICTORY. But on the other side

A Great

Sea Change

and their speech contained many intonations that still echo in the accents of New England and Virginia today. The nasal twang so often disparaged as a jarring American peculiarity in fact originated in East Anglia, chief stronghold of the Puritans.

In 17th Century England, no less than in England and America today, regional dialects varied widely. Sir Walter Raleigh, for example, spoke with a broad Devonshire accent. And even among the London literati uncertainties of pronunciation were rife.

Elizabethan poetry reveals that no hard and fast sound barrier lay between the long e of meet and the long a of mate. Shakespeare rhymed please alternatively with knees and grace; elsewhere he made puns indicating an identity or near-identity of the vowel sounds in grace, grass and grease.

Queen Elizabeth wrote defar for deftr, parson for person, wark for work. It is clear that the ar sound in such words was correct in Elizabethan English, and it remained so until the end of the 18th Century. Today in England only traces of it remaine.g., in the words clerk and Derby, which are still tenaciously, if rather self-consciously, pronounced clark and Darby. In America it is embalmed in the writings of 19th Century comic dialecticians-in such phrases as "book-larnin'. "

ONE OF the most striking instances of phonetic deviation-indeed a badge of nationality in the English-speaking world-is the contrasting treatment of the letter a in such a sentence as The calf came down the path and took a bath. Where Americans, confronted with these words, use the flat a of cat, the sentence emerges from the lips of the upperclahss Englishman as The cahJJ came down the pahth and took a bahth. As late as 179 I an English pronouncing dictionary classified the broad a as vulgar and the flat a as "characteristic of the elegant and learned world." Precisely why the broad a began to gain a foothold is not known, but its origins were, ironically, Cockney. Not until the second quarter of the 19th Century did it become a hallmark of the cultivated Old School accent in British society. It is in American speech, therefore, that the older "elegant" pronunciation has been preserved, while the mutation of a once-vulgar form occurred in the linguistic homeland.

An equally notable divergence between English and American speech developed with changing articulations

In

the

Language

of the letter r-especially in such words as bird, word, heard, infer, learn and turn. Before Shakespeare's time the individual vowels in these words had quite separate and distinct values -e.g., the i in bird was pronounced like the i in bid; the a in word was like the a in worn; the ea in heard was like the ea in health; the e in infer was like the e in infect; and the u in turn was equivalent to the 00 in took (hence toorn). During the 16th Century these separate combinations, having in common only the letter r, began to converge into a uniform pronunciation approximating the sound err. The merging process apparently originated in the lower or lower-middle class dialect of London as early as, 1560, and then crept gradually upward through various shadings into educated and court circles. Today poets on both shores of the Atlantic can rhyme learn and turn,firm and worm, and bird, inferred, heard, word and curd.

However, another evolutionary process had also come into play. Little by little the consonantal strength of the r slowly waned in southern England and by the end of the 18th Century it had faded away entirely.

In Walker's Pronouncing Dictionary, published in 1791, it is noted that "in England, and particularly in London, the r in bar, bard, card, regard, etc. is pronounced so much in the throat ,as to be little more than the middle or Italian a, lengthened into baa, baad, caad, regaad." Transplanted to America by the settlers of New England, this mannerism has flourished and still flourishes in the vicinity of Boston.

It provides the distinctive color of the so-called "Haavaad accent," and it, of course, suffuses the accent of the President of the United States, Haavaadeducated]ohn F. Kennedy. Elsewhere in America, notably in the West and Midwest, the strong consonantal r resounds vigorously, perpetuated by the descendants of later waves of immigrants from the northern English counties and Scotland.

Modulations of cadence and stress also differentiate the quality of British speech from that of the U.S. In such words as dictionary, necessary, oratory and secretary, the trailing syllables receive full value from Americans, while the British swallow them, so that the words emerge as dZction'ry, necess'ry, orat'ry and secret'ry. Here again it is the American pronunciation which has descended from Elizabethan times and the British which represents a modern elision. For the existence of the secondary stress in Shakespeare's day is clearly revealed by the scansion of Hamlet's famous line, Nor customary suits of sOlemn bldck. Summing up differences between U.S. and British pronunciation, the famous English

actor George Arliss remarked, "The chief fault in speech in America is sloppiness and the outstanding defect in England is snippiness."

It is in the field of vocabulary, however, that American English can best lay claim to being, if not .a separate language (as some linguistic chauvinists like to insist), at least the most important tributary in the great mainstream of our common tongue. In colonial America, as elsewhere in the expanding British empire, new words were invented, improvised, borrowed and translated from native lexicons to describe new things, experiences, flora and fauna, occupations and activities for which no counterparts existed in England. New and special vocabularies came into being and, as they circulated, many words worked back into the central treasury of the English tongue.

The first borrowings to enter the language from America were Red Indian words. At the time of the colonial landings an estimated one million aboriginal tribesmen ranged the enormous wilderness, sparsely distributed and fragmented by some 350 languages. Since m()st of the main linguistic families with which the settlers came in contact-Algonquian and Iroquoian in the east, Muskoghian in the south, Siouan in the Great Plains region, and Uto-Aztecan in the southwest-contained sounds which do not occur in English, the pioneers could only approximate them in speech and spelling.

Perhaps the greatest heritage bequeathed by the red man to the U.S., however, may be seen on the map---in the profusion of Red Indian place names. At the dawn of the colonial period the homesick pioneers nostalgically transplanted English names to American soil-hence there are in the U.S. today 28 Newports, 22 Londons and New Londons, 19 Bristols, 19 Bostons and New Bostons, 15 Princetons and 12 Richmonds. But as they pushed deeper into the wilderness they increasingly retained local names for rivers, mountains, lakes and other features of the landscape. Today more than half of the states in the Union bear names of Red Indian origin; so do four out of five of the Great Lakes, several mountain ranges, the nation's longest river, second city and greatest waterfall, and more than 1,000 assorted waterways, lakes and ponds. The state of Maine is liberally splattered with such names as Allagash, Caucomgomac, Chemquassabamticook, Oquossoc, Passadumkeag, and Unsuntabunt.

As their initial holdings enlarged, the English colonists increasingly came in contact with their competitorsthe French, Spanish and Dutch-

A Great

Sea Change

in the

Language

who were also endeavoring to carve chunks of empire from the apparently unbounded wilderness. At many points of encounter along the broken and disputed frontier, the rival languages met and mingled, and words--of various kinds-were exchanged.

Like the French, the Dutch had previously exported a wealth of wordsparticularly involving painting, weaving and navigation-to their English neighbors across the Channel prior to the 17th Century. Now in America they handed over a few more to their English neighbors in New Amsterdam-boss, coleslaw, pit (as in a fruit), Santa Claus, stoop (a small porch) and Yankee (a corruption of Jan Kees, meaning "John Cheese," a derisive nickname applied to Dutchmen by their rivals in the New World as early as 1683).

Of all European languages which have augmented the American vocabulary, none has contributed more liberally than Spanish. With the opening of the West, following the Mexican War and the California gold rush of 1848, Spanish words of many categories became part of everyday speech in the western and southwestern portions of the U.S.

KEEPING PACE with theweedlike growth of the American vernacular as it spread across prairies, deserts and mountains to the Pacific Ocean, thirstily absorbing foreign words and phrases on every frontier, was another more orderly process of growth-a growth of national pride in the language of America and an increasing sense that it had entered on a destiny of its own. On September 5, I780John Adams addressed a letter to Congress proposing an academy "for refining, correcting, improving and ascertaining the English language." Prophetically he added: "English is destined to be in the next and succeeding centuries more generally the language of the world than Latin was in the last or French is in the present age.

The reason of this is obvious, because the increasing population in America, and their universal connection and correspondence with all nations will ... force their language into general use."

Adams was not alone in his conviction that isolation from Europe would - result in the development of a new and vigorous language in America. ~Thomas Jefferson thought that the ~ --"" evolution of English in the U.S. would ':- - _-'' eventually "separate it in name as well - as in power from the mother-tongue."

AmI-- Noah Webster foresaw in the future "a language in North America

as different from the future language of England as the modern Dutch, Danish and Swedish are from the German or from one another." Like many of his contemporaries Webster already looked on England as a' foreign nation whose language was "on the decline" and should no longer be regarded as a model. He felt that it was the duty of Americans to develop a national and independent speech of their own, free from regional dialects and attuned to standards of literary excellence. To this end Webster devoted his life. He compiled the first American speller, reader and grammar. His American Dictionary of the English Language, published in 1828, became the supreme arbiter of American speech.

Webster's services to the language were abetted by the schoolteacher who employed his texts in class and the Yankee peddler who brought them to the smallest villages of the far frontier.

Two other factors accelerated the growth of the national idiom: the mobility of the population and the flexibility of a social order in which the ancient class distinctions of England had been consciously erased.

These developments did not go unnoticed in English literary circles. The first rumblings of disapproval were voiced even before the Revolution.

As early as 1756 Dr. Samuel Johnson, in reviewing a book by an American author, denounced its "mixture of American dialect" as "a tract of corruption to which every language widely diffused must always be exposed." Webster's Dictionary contained some 12,000 words that had not appeared in Johnson's or any other dictionary. And more new words came in a deluge, from cities and farms, from industry and science, from ranching and railroading, and from the swelling streams of immigrants who converged on the new open country from all parts of Europe. The protests of purists went unheeded.

As Shakespeare so often did, Americans casually convert nouns into verbs (to audition, to park, to service, to orbit); verbs into nouns (a dump, a strike, a scoop, a probe, a drive); nouns into adjectives (air tragedy, cover girl, disk jockey, rat race, skin diver, space age, summit meeting); adjectives into nouns (basics, briefs, compacts, wets and drys) and verbs into adjectives (prowl car, squawk box, speak-easy and it's all go).

A favorite trick is to combine a verb and an adverb to obtain such combinations as check-up, count-down, cutback, drive-in, feedback, pushover, pin-up girl, sit-in, slowdown and walk-up apartment. On occasion Americans shorten words by cropping syllables either from the beginning or the end. Thus, among examples of front-clipping,

PEOPLE responded immediately with offers of hel p to the news of the catastrophic July 26 earthquake that rocked the Yugoslav city of Skopje. Food, blankets, tents and medical supplies were dispatched and an entire U.S. Army field hospital was flown in. A tent hospital was set up at Kumanovo, some 25 miles from Skopje, and victims were brought to it from the stricken city by helicopters, trucks and ambulances.

THE AMERICAN

FIRST PRIZE in Sports Photography was awarded to this picture by the Wisconsin State Journal in a recent "Pictures of the Year" competition. Entitled "The Breaks," the picture shows pole vaulter Chuck Murrows at the moment his glass pole snapped during a track meet in Madison, Wisconsin.

PHOTO NEWS

HUNDRED THOUSAND persons participated in a rally in Washington in support of civil rights legislation. The marchers, both Negroes and whites, came from all parts of the United States, to join in the non¡ violent demonstration.

Photo above, taken from the Lincol.n Memorial, shows the vast assembly listening to the leaders of the ten groups who organized the rally.

Photos on the left show some of the faces seen at the march.

TWO

IN 01 A WAS the first Asian country to sign the nuclear test-ban treaty. Here Mr. Braj Kumar Nehru, India's Ambassador to the U.S., signs the Washington copy of the treaty. Watching him from left to right are: First Secretary of the Indian Embassy Ashok K. Ray, Treaty Depository Officer Virginia Duke, Deputy Director of Arms Control and Disarmament Agency Adrian S. Fisher and Under Secretary of State Averell Harriman.

SKY HOOK balloon is moved by automotive handling "mule" to a mooring location at Akron, Ohio, for tests.

The V-shaped craft, manufactured by the Goodyear Com¡ pany, is designed to hold scientific instruments aloft for extended periods in all types of weather. Body:cylinders are eac;h 110 feet long. Including th&-f1attail section, the craft holds some seventy-five thousand cubic feet of helium gas.

of

n

AT TH E Commencement Processional of the City College of New York, Dr. Martin Luther King, integrationist leader from Georgia, walks beside Dr. Buell Gallagher, president of the College. Dr. King, who is president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, delivel;ed the main commencement address.

HIGH POINT, the U.S. Navy's new hydrofoil ship, "flies" during recent tests on Puget Sound near Seattle, Washington. Hundred and fifteen feet long and thirty-one feet wide, and with its hull six feet above the water surface, the IIO-ton craft is propelled by two 3,100 horse. power gas turbine engines â&#x20AC;˘. High Point, designed by the Navy's Bureau of Ships, was built by the Boeing Company in Seattle.

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Andrew Wyeth

I

N AN ERA when artists everywhere are experimenting with new forms of expression, it is pleasing to find an occasional painter who has remained faithful through the years to his own vision of life.

Such a man is Andrew Wyeth. His paintings, static yet imbued with emotion, echo the simplicity of the world outside his door-the world that he has known for forty-five years, the world that he has made known to others.

He is part of an American tradition, a realistic recorder of the land and its people, as were the sentimental genre painters of an earlier day, but beyond that basic fact there is no comparison. For Wyeth is a master of detailed imagery, a meticulous painter who shares with today's abstractionists -lX desire to communicate feeling. It is this evocative quality that appeals even to those individuals and museums dedicated to the contemporary viewpoint.

His ability to affect modernists as well as traditionalists has made him a unique figure among American artists and brought him recognition from critics and public alike. His works have been purchased by museums and collectors, and admired by art lovers at exhibitions throughout the country.

The 1962-63 art season has thrust this quiet, retiring man even more into the spotlight. In November, 1962, the Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York, opened a major retrospective show of 143 pieces of his work.

In January, 1963, the Fogg Art Museum, at Harvard University, placed on display seventy-three of his pencil and drybrush drawings. Although physically separate, the exhibitions complemented each other effectively, one showing the artist's views of his world, the other revealing his working procedures.

Regardless of the medium used-water colour, drawing or tempera-the Wyeth touch is unmistakable. He has said, "If what I am trying to do has any value at all, it is because I have managed to express the quality of the country which I live in."

Master

of

Poetic Realism

Andrew Wyeth

His country is the hamlet of Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania-twenty-five miles west of Philadelphia-in which he was born and to which he has remained faithful despite suggestions that he move away or at least travel. Chadds Ford is all the world he needs, except for summers spent in Maine.

Anyone can share that world as his brush has caught it: a farmer's wife sitting in her doorway, a boy riding

a bicycle across a plain, a field of grass bending under the wind, a flock of birds. Yet for all the simplicity of his subjects, one cannot remain unaware of an underlying tension and drama, a sense of the past and the present caught within a single frame. If his paintings seem stark and spare, it is because he has ruthlessly eliminated everything but what he considers the essence of a work. "All I am trying to do is get a really clear look at the things that

mean a good deal," he has explained.

This, perhaps, is the most important lesson that he learned from his father, the well-known illustrator, Newell Convers Wyeth, who was his only teacher. The elder Wyeth made no attempt to impose his own ideas on the boy but drilled him in the fundamentals of drawing figures and animals, doing everything in his power to help the youth see the depth of an object, but not how it should be painted.

Andrew

Wyeth

The lesson was well learned, for Andrew was only fifteen when he illustrated a book and had a water colour - in an exhibition at a nearby city. His first one-man show, in a New York gallery, was held in 1937. Within a week the paintings-all water colours of scenes of Maine-were sold out. Year by year the young artist's talent grew, and before long the famous illustrator was being introduced as "Andrew Wyeth'sfather."

Although his subjects have always been the familiar scenes of home, his early paintings had much of the quality of illustrations, with little of the perceptiveness that distinguished his mature work. Gradually he began simplifying his subject matter, paring away everything that tended to disturb the essence of what he was trying to say.

Yet even small details play a relevant part in communicating pathos or tragedy. A number of his portraits are painted from a low angle which shows a ceiling stained and cracked. One of the best known of such works is "Karl" (1948), a haunting likeness ofa neighbour that was painted in the subject's attic.

On another occasion Wyeth may look to the horizon and depict its sweeping contours lovingly while focusing on a human figure in the foreground, as in a portrait of his older son, "Nicky" (1960).

One of his most poignant works is "Christina's World" (1948), which shows a crippled woman dragging herself through a field. Four years later he painted a portrait of the same woman cuddling a black kitten that is unforget-

table in its contrast of strength and tenderness: here again, an unmistakable touch of his poetic realism.

Another sensitive portrait is that of an elderly man seated in a quiet room with his shoes behind him on a table.

Titled "That Gentleman," it became famous recently when the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts purchased it for $58,000, believed to be the highest price ever paid by a museum for a work by a living American artist.

Many of Wyeth's most admired works have included no indication ¡of life, yet have evoked a strong feeling of some presence, either human or animal. During recent years he has sought even more persistently to simplify his subject matter.

"There's too much of it," he laments. "If I ever develop into something really worthwhile as an artist, it will be when I have no subject at all."

He feels that "Christina's World," for example, could have been done just as effectively by eliminating the figure and merely suggesting her presence. He has already achieved something akin to that in "River Cove," a quiet scene of water, reflected trees and a sandspit with a tracery of heron tracks.

One of his most recent works, "The Mill" (1962), attempts to capture the damp feeling and the strength of the land as it struggles to free itself from winter's grip.

This is the world that Andrew Wyeth sees and paints, with a sensitivity that only an artist close to the earth could capture .â&#x20AC;˘