It is a well-known fact that the Spanish discoverers of America found no horses on this continent, and that the modern horse (Equus caballus Linn.) was subsequently introduced from the old world. It is, however, not so generally known that these animals had formerly been abundant here, and that long before, in Tertiary time, near relatives of the horse, and probably his ancestors, existed in the far west in countless numbers, and in a marvellous variety of forms. The remains of equine mammals, now know from the Tertiary and Quaternary deposits of this country, already represent more than double the number of genera and species hitherto found in the strata of the eastern hemisphere, and hence afford most important aid in tracing out the genealogy of the horses still existing.

The animals of this group which lived in this country during the three divisions of the Tertiary period were especially numerous in the Rocky Mountain regions, and their remains are well preserved in the old lake basins which then covered so much of that country. The most ancient of these lakes – which extended over a considerable part of the present territories of Wyoming and Utah – remained so long in Eocene times that the mud and sand, slowly deposited in it, accumulated to more than a mile in vertical thickness. In these deposits, vast numbers of tropical animals were entombed, and here the oldest equine remains occur, four species of which have been described.

It will perhaps be thought necessary, previous to entering into a technical detail of the characters of the genus Cicindela, and of the indigenous individuals which are comprehended by it, that some account of the manners of this sprightly tribe should be given, and of such circumstances, relating to them, as may serve to present them to the recollections of the general observer. I shall accordingly proceed to state, that these insects usually frequent arid, denudated soils; are very agile, run with greater celerity than the majority of the vast order to which they belong; and rise upon the wing, almost with the facility of the common fly. They are always to be seen, during the warm season, in roads or pathways, open to the sun, where the earth is beaten firm and level. At the approach of the traveler, they fly up suddenly to the height of a few feet, pursuing then a horizontal course, and alighting again at a short distance in advance, as suddenly as they arose. The same individual may be roused again and again, but when he perceives himself the object of a particular pursuit, he evades the danger by a distant and circuitous flight, usually directed towards his original station. It is worthy of observation, as a peculiarity common to the species, that when they alight, after having been driven from their previous position, they usually perform an evolution in the air near the earth, so as to bring the head in the direction of the advancing danger, in order to be the more certainly warned of its too near approach.

This American species is the second in size among his tribe, and may be styled the great northern chief of the woodpeckers, though, in fact, his range extends over the whole of the United States from the interior of Canada to the Gulf of Mexico. He is very numerous in the Gennesee country, and in all the tracts of high timbered forests, particularly in the neighbourhood of our large rivers, where he is noted for making a loud and almost incessant cackling before wet weather; flying at such times in a restless uneasy manner from tree to tree, making the woods echo to his outcry. In Pennsylvania and the northern states he is called the black woodcock; in the southern states, the logcock. Almost every old trunk in the forest where he resides bears the marks of his chisel. Wherever he perceives a tree beginning to decay, he examines it round and round with great skill and dexterity, strips off the bark in sheets of five or six feet in length, to get at the hidden cause of the disease, and labours with a gaiety and activity really surprising. I have seen him separate the greatest part of the bark from a large dead pine tree, for twenty or thirty feet, in less than a quarter of an hour. Whether engaged in flying from tree to tree, in digging, climbing, or barking, he seems perpetually in a hurry.

Whoever has looked into a modern treatise on logic of the common sort, will doubtless remember the two distinctions between clear and obscure conceptions, and between distinct and confused conceptions. They have lain in the books now for nigh two centuries, unimproved and unmodified, and are generally reckoned by logicians as among the gems of their doctrine.

A clear idea is defined as one which is so apprehended that it will be recognized wherever it is met with, and so that no other will be mistaken for it. If it fails of this clearness, it is said to be obscure.

This is rather a neat bit of philosophical terminology; yet, since it is clearness that they were defining, I wish the logicians had made their definition a little more plain. Never to fail to recognize an idea, and under no circumstances to mistake another for it, let it come in how recondite a form it may, would indeed imply such prodigious force and clearness of intellect as is seldom met with in this world. On the other hand, merely to have such an acquaintance with the idea as to have become familiar with it, and to have lost all hesitancy in recognizing it in ordinary cases, hardly seems to deserve the name of clearness of apprehension, since after all it only amounts to a subjective feeling of mastery which may be entirely mistaken.

The visitor to Salisbury Plain sees around him a lonely waste, utterly barren except for a few recently planted trees, and otherwise as desolate as it could have been when Hengist and Horsa landed in Britain, for its monotony is still unbroken except by the funeral mounds of ancient chiefs, which dot it to its horizon, and contrast strangely with the crowded life and fertile soil which everywhere surrounds its borders. In the midst of this loneliness rise the rude, enormous monoliths of Stonehenge, circles of gray stones which seem as old as time, and were there, as we now are told, the temple of a people which had already passed away, and whose worship was forgotten, when our Saxon forefathers first saw the place.

In the center of the inner circle is a stone which is believed once to have been the alter, while beyond the outmost ring, quite away to the north-east upon the open plain, still stands a solitary stone, set up there evidently with some special object by the same unknown builders. Seen under ordinary circumstances, it is difficult to divine its connection with the others; but we are told that once in each year, upon the morning of the longest day, the level shadow of this distant, isolated stone is projected at sunrise to the very center of the ancient sanctuary, and falls just upon the alter.

While mountains and mountain chains all over the world, and low lands, also, have undergone uplifts, in the course of their long history, that are not explained on the idea that all mountain elevating is simply what may come from plication or crushing, the component parts of mountain chains, or those simple mountain or mountain ranges that are the product of one process of making – may have received, at the time of their original making, no elevation beyond that resulting from plication.

This leads us to a grand distinction in orography, hitherto neglected, which is fundamental and of the highest interest in dynamical geology; a distinction between –

1. A simple or individual mountain mass or range, which is the result of one process of making, like an individual in any process of evolution, and which may be distinguished as a monogenetic range, being one in genesis; and

2. A composite or polygenetic range or chain, made up of two or more monogenetic ranges combined.

The Appalachian chain – the mountain region along the Atlantic border of North America – is a polygenetic chain; it consists, like the Rocky and other mountain chains, of several monogenetic ranges, the more important of which are: 1. The Highland range (including the Blue Ridge or parts of it, and the Adirondacks also, if these belong to the same process of making) pre-Silurian in formation; 2. The Green Mountain range, in western New England and eastern New York, completed essentially after the Lower Silurian era or during its closing period; 3. The Alleghany range, extending from southern New York southwestward to Alabama, and completed immediately after the Carboniferous age.

Remains of birds are among the rarest fossils, and few have been discovered except in the more recent formations. With the exception of Archaeopteryx from the Jurassic, and a single species from the Cretaceous, no birds are known in the old world below the Tertiary. In this country numerous remains of birds have been found in the Cretaceous, but there is no satisfactory evidence of their existence in any older formation, the three-toed footprints of the Triassic being probably all made by Dinosaurian reptiles.

The Museum of Yale College contains a large series of remains of birds from the Cretaceous deposits of the Atlantic coast and the Rocky Mountain region, thirteen species of which have already been described by the writer. The most important of these remains, so far as now known, are the Odontornithes, or birds with teeth, and it is the object of the present communication to give some of the more marked characters of this group, reserving the full description for a memoir now in course of preparation.

The first species of birds in which teeth were detected was Ichthyornis dispar Marsh, described in 1872. Fortunately the type specimen of this remarkable species was in excellent preservation, and the more important portions of both the skull and skeleton were secured. These remains indicate an aquatic bird, fully adult, and about as large as a pigeon.

Novelties are enticing to most people: to us they are simply annoying. We cling to a long-accepted theory, just as we cling to an old suit of clothes. A new theory, like a new pair of breeches (“The Atlantic” still affects the older type of nether garment) is sure to have hard-fitting places; or even when no particular fault can be found with the article, it oppresses with a sense of general discomfort. New notions and new styles worry us, till we get well used to them, which is only by slow degrees.

Wherefore, in Galileo's time, we might have helped to proscribe, or to burn – had he been stubborn enough to warrant cremation – even the great pioneer of inductive research; although, when we had fairly recovered our composure, and had leisurely excogitated the matter, we might have come to conclude that the new doctrine was better than the old one, after all, at least for those who had nothing to unlearn.

Such being our habitual state of mind, it may well be believed that the perusal of the new book “On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection” left an uncomfortable impression, in spite of its plausible and winning ways. We were not wholly unprepared for it, as many of our contemporaries seem to have been. The scientific reading in which we indulge as a relaxation from severer studies had raised dim forebodings.

A lake is to the naturalist a chapter out of the history of a primeval time, for the conditions of life there are primitive, the forms of life are, as a whole, relatively low and ancient, and the system of organic interactions by which they influence and control each other has remained substantially unchanged from a remote geological period.

The animals of such a body of water are, as a whole, remarkably isolated – closely related among themselves in all their interests, but so far independent of the land about them that if every terrestrial animal were suddenly annihilated, it would doubtless be long before the general multitude of the inhabitants of the lake would feel the effects of this event in any important way. One finds in a single body of water a far more complete and independent equilibrium of organic life and activity than on any equal body of land. It is an islet of older, lower life in the midst of the higher more recent life of the surrounding region. It forms a little world within itself – a microcosm within which all the elemental forces are at work and the play of life goes on in full, but on so small a scale as to bring it easily within the mental grasp.

Nowhere can one see more clearly illustrated what may be called the sensibility of such an organic complex, expressed by the fact that whatever affects any species belonging to it, must speedily have its influence of some sort upon the whole assemblage.

“Part I. Geographical Relations of the Dune Floras”

Introduction

The province of ecology is to consider the mutual relations between plants and their environment. Such a study is to structural botany what dynamical geology is to structural geology. Just as modern geologists interpret the structure of the rocks by seeking to find how and under what conditions similar rocks are formed today, so ecologists seek to study those plant structures which are changing at the present time, and thus to throw light on the origin of plant structures themselves.

Again, ecology is comparable to physiography. The surface of the earth is composed of a myriad of topographic forms, not at all distinct, but passing into one another by a series of almost perfect gradations; the physiographer studies landscapes in their making, and writes on the origin and relationships of topographic forms. The ecologist employs the methods of physiography, regarding the flora of a pond or swamp or hillside not as a changeless landscape feature, but rather as a panorama, never twice alike. The ecologist, then, must study the order of succession of the plant societies in the development of a region, and he must endeavor to discover the laws which govern the panoramic changes. Ecology, therefore, is a study in dynamics. For its most ready application, plants should be found whose tissues and organs are actually changing at the present time in response to varying conditions. Plant formations should be found which are rapidly passing into other types by reason of a changing environment.

How do interest groups and associations representing people at different class levels make demands upon the state in India? Do lower-class associations resort to electoral politics more than middle- and upper-class associations? Do they tend to use more confrontational tactics than middle-class associations? Are middle-class associations more cooperative with the state, preferring to ‘operate’ rather than ‘agitate’, as John Harriss finds? Are their demands made in a more orderly, contained fashion? And what do these patterns of engagement with the state tell us about ‘civil society’ in India? Need we make a distinction between the orderly, bourgeois civil society of Western political theory and a more contentious, lower-class ‘political society’?

A study of occupational associations in Varanasi can shed some light on these questions. We examine and compare the means by which associations representing four occupational groups at two different class levels – boatmen and weavers, representing lower-class occupations, and traders and lawyers, representing middle-class occupations – make demands upon the state. First, we find that the associations representing the middle-class occupations were far more contentious in making their demands, carrying out a much higher number of protests and strikes, than associations representing the lower-class occupations. Associations representing the interests of lower-class occupations tended to prefer formal, institutionalized, or more contained means of making demands upon the state. These methods are not only less costly and less risky, but also less efficient and more time-consuming in the long run.

Mining: A Questionable Development Strategy

Given the risks associated with locating large-scale mining projects amid the natural hazards present in the Philippines, and the reluctance of many members of that archipelago's civil society to accept technological solutions to these risks, one may wonder whether a mining-based development paradigm is an appropriate approach to be followed. Will mining-related environmental disruptions brought on by the interactions of mining's environmental effects and the natural hazards present in the Philippines only serve to disrupt the ecology of the poor and end up impoverishing vulnerable communities adjacent to mining operations? Alternatively, will mining act as an engine of economic growth and generate so much prosperity that whatever instances of environmental disruption may occur can easily be compensated for by the subsequent rising tide of prosperity that “lifts all boats?”

The Twin Pillars of Sustainable Development

In addressing the efficacy of any development strategy, the concept of sustainable development is a useful metric. In 1987, the World Commission on Environment and Development defined the now ubiquitous term “sustainable development” as being “development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs” (World Commission on Environment and Development 1987, 43). However, this definition may only be viewed as a starting point in discussions of sustainable development because much of this discussion directs its attention not on the negative consequences of economic growth upon the environment, but on the negative consequences of environmental degradation upon economic growth (Holden 2009b).

At the outset, this book posed the question, “What are the difficulties inherent in attempting to pursue a mining-based development paradigm in a country beset by natural hazards?” The Philippines is a country plagued by widespread poverty, but also richly endowed with mineral resources. To stimulate the economic development of the country, the government has rigorously promoted large-scale mining by corporations. Mining is, however, an activity with a substantial potential for environmental degradation and the Philippines is a country subjected to numerous natural hazards such as typhoons, earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes and El Niño–induced drought. The Philippines is also inhabited by poor people engaged in subsistence activities who are highly vulnerable to any form of environmental degradation. These natural hazards interfere with the environmental effects of mining and worsen the conditions of the poor engaged in subsistence activities thus creating disasters. The situation that transpired after the typhoon caused the tailings spill at the Rapu-Rapu Polymetallic Project in October 2005 will play itself out over and over again, possibly with catastrophic consequences. This is the classic embodiment of a disaster: a hazard that impacts a vulnerable population. A mining-based development paradigm will not generate development lifting the poor out of poverty and it will deprive them of their basic means of survival and generate disasters. To answer the question posed by the title of this book, this is not an example of “digging to development” and this is an example of “digging to disaster.”

The Philippines: Spaces of Hazard

Natural hazards are those atmospheric, hydrologic, geologic and other naturally occurring physical phenomena that have the potential to harm humans (Punongbayan 1994). An extensive body of literature exists documenting the vulnerability of the Philippines to natural hazards (Bankoff 1999, 2003a, 2003b; Bankoff and Hilhorst 2009; Delica 1993; Holden 2011; Luna 2001; Yumul et al. 2011).

Typhoons: One of the World's Most Powerful Atmospheric Phenomena

Typhoons: Tropical cyclones in the Western Pacific

Typhoon, originating from the Chinese tai (strong) and fung (wind), is the term used to describe a tropical cyclone in the Western Pacific Ocean (Bankoff 2003a). A typhoon is one of the world's most powerful atmospheric phenomena with a fully developed typhoon releasing the energy equivalent to many Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs (Wisner et al. 2004). Typhoons develop in the northern hemisphere during the months of July to November in an area just north of the equator (Bankoff 2003a; Wisner et al. 2004). They develop when strong clusters of thunderstorms drift over warm ocean waters having a temperature of at least 26.5 degrees Celsius. Warm air from the thunderstorms combines with the warm air from the ocean surface and begins rising; as this air rises there will be a reduction in air pressure on the surface of the ocean. As these clusters of thunderstorms consolidate into one large storm, trade winds blowing in opposite directions will cause the storm to begin spinning in a counter clockwise direction, while rising warm air causes air pressure to decrease at higher altitudes (Gonzalez 1994; Van Aalst 2006).

Mining: A Flawed Development Model

The preceding chapter demonstrated that a mining-based development paradigm is inappropriate in the Philippines. Mining-related environmental disruptions will disrupt the ecology of the poor and end up impoverishing vulnerable communities adjacent to mining operations. The instances of environmental disruption occurring when large-scale mining is located amid the natural hazards present in the archipelago will not be compensated for by a rising tide of prosperity lifting all boats. Opposition to mining is so pronounced in the islands that nine provincial governments (Figure 6.3) have passed moratoriums banning large-scale mining within their jurisdiction. These provincial governments are so concerned about the environmental effects of large-scale mining that they have gone so far as to ban it completely. To the residents of these provinces, a complete and utter absence of largescale mining is preferable to any form of it. This is not a discussion of how mining can be implemented differently so as to better propel the residents of these provinces towards some teleological concept of development, rather this is a discussion of the residents of these provinces being happy living the way they currently are and not wanting mining to disrupt their sources of income.

Consider the residents of the province of Sorsogon, deprived of their livelihoods by the cyanide spill at the Rapu-Rapu Polymetallic Project. To these people, mining did nothing but plunge them into destitution; they would have been much better off had the mining company never turned a shovel on Rapu-Rapu Island.