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Dedicated to the memory of Robert and Martin Nielsen
Contents
PREFACE 1X

AC KNOW I.EDGMENTS X11

Introduction to Binocular Vision: Why Do We Have Two Eyes? 1

Visual Direction 9

Fusion and Correspondence 45

The Horopter 81

Alternatives to Fusion 121

Binocular Summation 153

Stereopsis 173

8
Neuroanatomy and Neurophysiology of Binocular Vision 235

Development of Binocular Vision 269

APPENDIX A

Viewing the Stereograms in This Book 325

INDEX 329
Preface
INTENDED AUDIENCE

This book is the first introductory textbook on binocular vision in

nearly twenty years. While excellent advanced books on binocular
vision for researchers are available, only this book takes a clinically-
relevant approach to the basic scientific foundations of binocular
visual perception, and is therefore is targeted at the student clinician.

This book will be useful as a textbbok for courses dealing

with the basis for binocular vision during optometric training, or
residencies in pediatric ophthalmology prior to the student's
clinical exposure to binocular vision testing and therapy. It also
will be of use to practicing clinicians who would like to refresh
their knowledge of sensory binocular vision, or to students of
sensory psychology.

SPECIAL FEATURES OF THIS BOOK

Rather than discussing only theoretical research aspects of binocular

vision, as previous textbooks on this topic have done, this textbook
stresses material that will specifically build a solid framework for
practical clinical skills and the diagnosis of clinical binocular vision
disorders. In every chapter, clinical applications of the basic
scientific background and research are discussed, including clinical
examples, testing procedures, diagnostic issues and treatment
modalities. This approach will not only prepare students better for
their later clinical experiences by bridging the "gap" between the
basic sciences and clinical sciences, but will also stimulate a high
 level of interest on the part of the student.

The authors of this textbook have over forty years of

combined experience in basic science, vision research including
studies of amblyopia and strabismus, clinical education, and
clinical vision care. This unique combination of expertise brings
to this book a broad perspective-a solid basis in vision science,
with keen awareness of what clinicians need to know for the "real
world"-all presented by writers with experience in classroom
instruction. The numerous publications of the authors, including
research papers, textbooks, and book chapters, as well as the
numerous courses taught by the authors, have allowed them to
develop a book that will be easily read and understood by
students. Two authors have additional skills as illustrators, which
they have used to produce clear, striking figures that help bring
life to the subject material.

The emphasis of this textbook is on making the subject

material easily accessible to the reader. Each chapter contains key
terms printed in boldface type to stress their importance. In
addition, some sections are marked with special symbols to direct
the readers' attention to key points or to information that is of
special relevance to clinical application, including clinical tests,
"pearls" for differential diagnosis, and clinical treatment issues.
Each chapter ends with a summary of the key points to facilitate
preparation for course examinations and for National Board of
Examiners in Optometry examinations. The material is
extensively cross-linked to ensure that students understand the
interrelationships among topics.

ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT THE AUDIENCE

The book assumes a basic knowledge of the sensory basis for vision
and of eye movements, as courses on these topics typically precede
 courses on binocular vision. In addition, several excellent textbooks
are in print on these topics, and therefore this material is not
duplicated here. For example, the authors recommend the following
for background material:

Steven Schwartz's Visual Perception, 2nd edition, also

available from McGraw-Hill.

CONTACTING THE AUTHORS

Your comments and suggestions for improvement are important to

us. Most importantly, we recognize that it is possible that errors may
have eluded our detection. We welcome all discoveries of errata so
that instructors may be notified and future editions of this book will
be as accurate as possible.

Please send all correspondence to:

 Acknowledgments
Dr. Scott Steinman would like to thank the people who have guided
his career and have made writing this book possible. He thanks his
parents, Paul and Flora Steinman, for inspiring him to enter
optometry, teaching, and the sciences, and to develop his interest in
art. Other important influences include: Dennis Levi, OD, PhD, of
the University of Houston, the Chair of his dissertation committee
and a friend of almost 20 years; Suzanne McKee, PhD, of the
SmithKettlewell Eye Research Institute; Clifton Schor, OD, PhD, of
the University of California, who supervised his postdoctoral studies;
and Gary Trick, PhD, of the Henry Ford Hospital, who first exposed
him to vision science before his doctoral studies. He would also like
to express his gratitude to President William Cochran and Vice
President Charles Haine of the Southern College of Optometry for
their encouragement and support during the writing of this book and
to Dr. Barbara Steinman simply for putting up with him.

Dr. Barbara Steinman would like to thank Dr. Scott Steinman for
marrying her and acting as a slavedriver during the preparation of
this book. She also thanks her father, Melvin Nielsen, DDS, and her
husband Scott Steinman, for supporting her education. She thanks
her mother, June Nielsen, for stimulating her creativity and
providing a background in art and design. Dr. Steinman also thanks
Stephen Lehmkuhle, PhD, of the University of Missouri, the Chair of
her dissertation committee; John Brabyn, PhD, of the Smith-
Kettlewell Eye Research Institute; and Gunilla Haegerstrom-
Portnoy, OD, PhD, of the University of California, for encouraging
her to become a researcher.

Dr. Ralph Garzia would like to thank Scott and Barbara Steinman for
the opportunity to contribute to this book.
Foundations of
Binocular Vision
A Clinical Perspective
 1
Introduction to
Binocular Vision:
Why Do We Have
Two Eyes?

Binocular vision literally means vision with two eyes, that is, the
special attributes of vision when we have both eyes open as opposed to
one eye. Our perception under binocular conditions is markedly
different from and richer than vision with one eye alone. What is it
that makes having two eyes advantageous, and why do humans have
only two eyes? In lower species such as spiders and insects it is
common to possess several eyes, but this does not imply that insects
see better than humans. More evolved animals like primates always
have two eyes.

The addition of a second eye is not without its problems. Having to

coordinate the use of two eyes to work as a team can lead to a variety
of visual disorders. Aiming the two eyes incorrectly can produce
strabismus with its associated sensory problems amblyopia and
suppression, or diplopia. Even when the two eyes are aimed correctly,
the strain of keeping them aligned can cause binocular accommodative
and convergence problems that can hamper everyday activities such as
reading or sports (Sheedy et al., 1988). Asthenopia secondary to
binocular disorders can lead the patient to avoid performing many
visual tasks that may be required in their schooling, occupation, or
hobby.

Despite the possibility of binocular visual disorders, there must be

some advantage to the evolution of two-eyed species. One simple
answer is the observation that we simply perform better on many
everyday visual tasks when we use two eyes rather than one eye
(Jones and Lee, 1981; Sheedy, 1986). However, this simple answer
still begs for an explanation.

Two eyes provide us with an "extra" eye that can be used as a spare
in case one is damaged or diseased; for example, if one eye has a
macular degeneration, and the fovea is destroyed, the fellow eye can
provide usable foveal vision and good visual acuity. However, if this
were the only advantage to having an extra eye, it would be
advantageous to have more than two. After all, the more eyes, the
better our insurance against loss of vision. Yet, again, we do not have
multiple eyes.

We must also ask if the presence of the second eye makes our
vision sharper, clearer, or more sensitive. The answer is yes. Many of
our visual thresholds are lower with two eyes than with one, a
phenomenon known as binocular summation. For example, binocular
visual acuity is typically better than monocular visual acuity.
Likewise, contrast detection thresholds are better with two eyes than
with one eye alone. However, in many cases, this binocular advantage
is small, no more than what you would predict statistically by having
more than one chance to detect the stimulus. The extra eye does not
really give that much of an extra "boost" to our visual capabilities.

The use of two eyes gives us a larger field of view, allowing us to

see more of the world around us at a time. In lower species such as
frogs, the two eyes nearly double the area over which they can see
(Fig. 1-1). This is because their two eyes are on either side of their
head and point in different directions. There is little or no overlap
between the fields of the two eyes, and frogs can see almost 360°
around them, a phenomenon called panoramic vision. The frog
therefore has two eyes and, by definition, binocular vision, but does it
derive all of the benefits of binocular vision?
 Figure 1-1 The visual field of the frog, an amphibian. The eyes of the frog
face laterally on either side of the head, resulting in no overlap between the
visual fields of each eye.

In more highly evolved species such as humans, the eyes face

forward, and their combined visual field is much smaller (Fig. 1-2).
When our two eyes are used together, their visual fields overlap by
about 120°. This overlapping part of the visual field is seen by both
eyes at the same time and is called the binocular visual field. Lateral to
the binocular field are crescent-shaped monocular portions of the
visual field seen by each eye alone, called the temporal crescents.
Because the uniocular visual field of almost all vertebrates is 170° in
extent, the total width of the visual field using both eyes and the width
of the overlapped binocular visual field are determined by the position
of the eyes in the head.
 We can demonstrate and measure monocular and binocular visual
fields with a simple experiment. With both eyes open, fixate precisely
on a distant object. Now hold a pencil beside your head vertically and
even with your left ear. Bring it around toward the front of your head
until you can first see it in your peripheral field. Close your left eye.
Can you still see the pencil? Why not? The pencil is now located in
the portion of the visual field that is monocular and is seen only by
your left eye, that is, the left eye's temporal crescent. Keeping your left
eye closed, keep moving the pencil forward until your right eye first
sees it. You have just hit the inner border of the temporal crescent. If
you were to repeat this procedure starting with the pencil lateral to
your right ear, you would map out the temporal crescent of the right
eye. Between the two temporal crescents lies the extent of your
binocular visual field. Under real-world viewing conditions, with both
eyes open at once, you cannot distinguish whether the object falls in
the monocular or binocular portions of your visual field, as both
regions blend together continuously.

Figure 1-2 The visual field of the human, an omnivorous hunting primate.
 The eyes of the human face frontward, resulting in a large overlap between
the visual fields of each eye. The binocular visual field is 120° across. The
temporal crescents, each seen by only one eye because of interference by the
nose, are about 30° in extent.

Now let us try a second demonstration. Look at the tip of a pencil

located about 40 cm in front of your eyes and notice what you see
behind it. Close one eye, then the other. The objects behind the pencil
should appear to move. This tells you that the images on the retinas of
the two eyes are not precisely identical. Even though both of your eyes
are looking at the same scene, they are looking at it from two slightly
different vantage points because the two eyes are separated by an
interocular distance of roughly 60 to 65 mm, depending on the
population (see the example in Fig. 1-3). Also, the nose acts as a
septum or divider and cuts off the extreme nasal part of each eye's
visual field. Despite the differences in the images in each eye, we still
see the world as single when both eyes are open.
Figure 1-3 When the two eyes view an object, their respective retinal images
are of the object as seen from two distinct vantage points because the two
eyes are in different locations in the head separated by the interocular
distance. It is the differences between the monocular views that lead to the
perception of stereopsis.

It is the subtle differences between the images in each eye that

produce the real advantage of binocular vision, namely stereopsis, the
binocular form of depth perception. Although we can judge distances
somewhat using monocular cues to depth such as perspective,
occlusion, elevation, texture gradients, and motion parallax, we see
depth much better and more vividly with two eyes together. We can
demonstrate this as follows: hold the index finger of your left hand in
front of you. Now close one eye and bring the index finger of the right
hand so that it is at the same distance from you. Now open both eyes.
Are the fingers precisely at the same distance? Probably not. Using
both eyes together lets you judge relative distance or depth more
precisely.

This was probably more of an issue for our evolutionary ancestors.

Depth perception first developed in predators and primates by
necessity. In a jungle or savannah environment, surrounded by dense
leaves or grass, the world around you appears to be flat if viewed with
one eye. With two eyes, however, you easily see the three-dimensional
structure of grass or the leaves and their branches. This would be quite
important to a monkey swinging through the trees or a tiger hunting
prey; if their environment looked flat, they could not effectively
navigate through the trees or grass and food could be camouflaged.
Stereopsis aids in distinguishing objects from their backgrounds
(Schneider and Moraglia, 1994). In addition, we are able to navigate
through our world more quickly when using two eyes (Eyeson-Annan
and Brown, 1992). More importantly, stereopsis allows for more
precise hand-eye coordination, and so the development of stereopsis
may also be related to the development of manual capabilities in
primates.

Yet even in the modern world, binocular vision has important

consequences. What we perceive about the world around us may not
match precisely what is physically there, since the retinal image does
not perfectly represent all of a viewed object's physical attributes. Our
visual systems must interpret the retinal image to deduce the likely
objects that could have produced that particular image. One of the
ways in which this is accomplished is by making assumptions about
the organization and predictability of the environment around us.
Stereopsis gives us one more tool to do so accurately. Stereopsis is an
accurate means of determining the position of objects around us in
relationship to our own position, and to determine our position relative
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equator. We say the “nearest,” because it does not actually mark the
position of the pole, but is about 1° 30’ from it. Owing, however, to
the motion of the pole of the celestial equator round that of the
ecliptic, it will, in about 2000 a.d., approach within 28’ of the north
pole; but after reaching this point of approximation it will begin to
recede. At the time of Hipparchus it was 12° distant from it (that is, in
156 b.c.); in 1785, 2° 2’. You may easily find its place in the “stellar
firmament,” for a line drawn between the stars α and β (hence called
the “Pointers”) of the constellation Ursa Major, or the Great Bear,
and produced in a northerly direction for about four and a half times
its own length, will almost touch the Pole-Star. Two thousand years
this post of honour, so to speak, was occupied by the star β of Ursa
Major; while, in about twelve thousand years, it will be occupied by
the star Vega in Lyra, which will be within 5° of the north pole.
The constellation of Ursa Major is always above the horizon of
Europe, and hence it has been an object of curiosity to its inhabitants
from the remotest antiquity. Our readers may easily recognize it by
three stars which form a triangle in its tail, while four more form a
quadrangle in the body of the imaginary bear. In the triangle, the first
star at the tip of the tail is Benetnasch of the second magnitude; the
second, Mizar; and the third, Alioth. In the quadrangle, the first star
at the root of the tail is named Megrez; the second below it, Phad;
the third, in a horizontal direction, Merak; and the fourth, above the
latter, Dubhe, of the first magnitude.
 URSA MAJOR AND URSA MINOR.
In Ursa Minor the only conspicuous star is Polaris, of which we
have recently spoken.
We subjoin a list of the northern constellations, including the
names of those who formed them, the number of their visible stars,
and the names of the most important and conspicuous.

NORTHERN CONSTELLATIONS.
No. of Principal
Constellations. Author.
Stars. Stars.
Ursa Minor, the Lesser Bear Aratus. 24 Polaris, 2.
Ursa Major, the Great Bear Aratus. 87 Dubhe, 1;
Alioth, 2.
Perseus, and Head of Medusa Aratus. 59 Algenib, 2;
Algol, 2.
Auriga, the Waggoner Aratus. 66 Capella, 1.
Bootes, the Herdsman Aratus. 54 Arcturus, 1.
Draco, the Dragon Aratus. 80 Rastaben, 3.
 Cepheus Aratus. 35 Alderamin,
3.
Canes Venatici, the Greyhounds Hevelius. 25
Chara and Asteria
Cor Caroli, Heart of Charles II Halley. 3
Triangulum, the Triangle Aratus. 16
Triangulum Minus, the Lesser Hevelius. 10
Triangle
Musca, the Fly Bode. 6
Lynx Hevelius. 44
Leo Minor, the Lesser Lion Hevelius. 53
Coma Berenices, Berenice’s Hair Tycho 43
Brahe.
Cameleopardalis, the Giraffe Hevelius. 58
Mons Menelaus, Mount Menelaus Hevelius. 11
Corona Borealis, the Northern Aratus. 21
Crown
Serpens, the Serpent Aratus. 64
Scutum Sobieski, Sobieski’s Hevelius. 8
Shield
Hercules, with Cerberus Aratus. 113 Ras
Algratha,
3.
Serpentarius, or Ophiuchus, the Aratus. 74 Ras Aliagus,
Serpent-Bearer 2.
Taurus Poniatowski, or the Bull of Poezobat. 7
Poniatowski
Lyra, the Harp Aratus. 22 Vega, 1.
Vulpeculus et Anser, the Fox and Hevelius. 37
the Goose
Sagitta, the Arrow Aratus. 18
Aquila, the Eagle, with Antinous Aratus. 71 Altair, 1.
Delphinus, the Dolphin Aratus. 18
Cygnus, the Swan Aratus. 81 Deneb, 1.
Cassiopeia, the Lady in her Chair Aratus. 55
Equulus, the Horse’s Head Ptolemy. 10
Lacerta, the Lizard Hevelius. 16
Pegasus, the Flying Horse Aratus. 89 Markab, 2.
Andromeda Aratus. 66 Almaac, 2.
Turandus, the Reindeer Lemonnier. 12

A few remarks in reference to some of these constellations, and

the glorious orbs which they help to indicate to mortal eyes, may fitly
close this chapter.
We have already alluded to Ursa Major, which forms one of the
most conspicuous objects of the northern heavens. It has borne
different names, at different times, and among different peoples. It
was the Ἄρκτος μεγάλη of the Greeks; the “Septem triones” of the
Latins. It is known in some parts as David’s Chariot; the Chinese call
it, Tcheou-pey.
Night and day this constellation watches above the northern
horizon, revolving, with slow and majestic march, around Polaris, in
four and twenty hours. The quadrangle of stars in the body of the
Great Bear forms the wheels of the chariot; the triangle in its tail, the
chariot-pole. Above the second of the three latter shines the small
star Alcor, also named the Horseman. The Arabs call it Saidak, or
“the Test,” because they use it to try the range and strength of a
person’s vision.
This brilliant northern constellation, composed, with the exception
of δ, of stars of the second magnitude, has frequently been
celebrated by poets. We may paraphrase, for the advantage of our
readers, a glowing apostrophe from the pen of the American Ware:—
With what grand and majestic steps, he says, it moves forward in
its eternal circle, following among the stars its regal way in a slow
and silent splendour! Mighty creation, I salute thee! I love to see thee
wandering in the shining paths like a giant proud of his strong girdle
—severe, indefatigable, resolved—whose feet never lag in the road
which lies before them. Other tribes abandon their nocturnal course
and rest their weary orbs under the waves; but thou, thou never
closest thy burning eyes, and never suspendest thy determined
steps. Forward, ever forward! While systems change, and suns
retire, and worlds fall to sleep and awake again, thou pursuest thy
endless march. The near horizon attempts to check thee, but in vain.
A watchful sentinel, thou never quittest thy age-long duty; but,
without allowing thyself to be surprised by sleep, thou guardest the
fixed light of the universe, and preventest the north from ever
forgetting its place.
 Seven stars dwell in that shining company; the eye embraces
them all at a single glance; their distances from one another,
however, are not less than the distance of each from Earth. And this
again is the reciprocal distance of the celestial centres or foci. From
depths of heaven, unexplored by thought, the piercing rays dart
across the void, revealing to our senses innumerable worlds and
systems. Let us arm our vision with the telescope, and let us survey
the firmament. The skies open wide; a shower of sparkling fires
descends upon our head; the stars close up their ranks, are
condensed in regions so remote that their swift rays (swifter than
aught else in creation) must travel for centuries before they can
reach our Earth. Earth, sun, and ye constellations, what are ye
among this infinite immensity and the multitude of the Divine works!
If we face towards the Pole-Star, which, as we have seen,
preserves its place in the centre of the northern region of the sky, we
have the south behind us, the east is on our right, the west upon our
left. All the stars revolving round the Pole-Star, from right to left,
should be recognized according to their mutual relations rather than
referred to the cardinal points. On the other side of Polaris, as
compared with the Great Bear, we find another constellation which is
easily recognized. If from the central star δ we carry a line to the
Pole, and then prolong it for an equal distance, we traverse the
constellation of Cassiopeia, composed of five stars of the third
magnitude, disposed somewhat like the outer jambs of the letter M.
The small star χ, terminating the square, gives it also the form of a
chair. This group occupies every possible situation in revolving round
the Pole, being at one time above it, at another below, now on the
left, and then on the right; but it is always readily found, because, like
Ursa Major, to which it is invariably opposite, it never sets. The Pole-
Star is the axle round which these two constellations revolve.
If we now draw, from the stars α and δ in Ursa Major, two lines
meeting at the Pole, and afterwards extend them beyond
Cassiopeia, they will abut on the square of Pegasus, which is
bounded on one of its sides by a group, or series, of three stars
resembling the triangle in Ursa Major. These three belong to the
constellation of Andromeda (α, β, and γ), and themselves abut on
another three-orbed group, that of Perseus.
The last star in the square of Perseus is also the first α of
Andromeda: the other three are named, Algenib, γ; Markab, α; and
Scheat, β. To the north of Andromeda β, and near a small star, ν, the
Arctic traveller will discern an oblong nebula, which may be
compared to the light of a taper seen through a sheet of horn; this is
the first nebula to which any allusion occurs in the annals of
astronomy. In Perseus α, an orb of great brilliancy, on the prolonged
plane of the three principal stars of Andromeda, shines with steady
lustre between two less dazzling spheres, and forms in conjunction
with them a concave arc very easily distinguished. Of this arc we
may avail ourselves as a new point of departure. By prolonging it in
the direction of δ, we come to a very bright star of the first
magnitude, the Goat. By forming a right angle to this prolongation in
a southerly direction we come to that glorious mass of stars, not very
frequently above the Polar horizon, the Pleiads. These were held in
evil repute among the ancients. Their appearance was supposed to
be ominous of violent storms, and Valerius Flaccus speaks of them
as fatal to ships.
 NEBULA IN ANDROMEDA.
Algol, or Medusa’s Head, known to astronomers as Perseus β,
belongs to the singular class of Variable Stars. Instead of shining
with a constant lustre, like other orbs, it is sometimes very brilliant,
and sometimes very pale; passing, apparently, from the second to
the fourth magnitude. According to Goodricke, its period of variation
is 2 days 20 hours 48 minutes. This phenomenal character was first
observed by Maraldi in 1694; but the duration of the change was
determined by Goodricke in 1782. For two days and fourteen hours it
continues at its brightest, and shines a glory in the heavens. Then its
lustre suddenly begins to wane, and in three hours and a half is
reduced to its minimum. Its weakest period, however, does not last
more than about fifteen minutes. It then begins to increase in
brightness, and in three hours and a half more it is restored to its full
splendour; thus passing through its succession of changes in 2 days
20 hours 48 minutes.
This singular periodicity suggested to Goodricke the idea of some
opaque body revolving around the star, and by interposing between
it and the Earth cutting off a portion of its light. Algol is one of the
most interesting of the welcome stars which kindle in the long Arctic
darkness.
The star ζ in Perseus, situated above the “stormy Pleiads,” is
double; that is, a binary star. ξ in Ursa Major is also a twin-star; and
so is Polaris, the second and smaller star appearing a mere speck in
comparison with its companion.

These are the principal stars and starry groups in the

Circumpolar Regions of the heavens, on one side; let us now turn
our attention to the other.
For this purpose we must again take the Great Bear as our
starting-point. Prolonging the tail in its curvature, the Arctic traveller
notes, at some distance from it, a star of the first magnitude,
Arcturus, or Boötes α. This star, though without any authority, was at
one time considered the nearest to the Earth of all the starry host.
About 10° to the north-east of it is Mirac, or ε Boötes; one of the
most beautiful objects in the heavens, on account of the contrasted
hues, yellow and azure, of the two stars composing it. Unfortunately,
the twin-orbs cannot be distinctly seen except with a telescope of
two hundred magnifying power.
A small ring of stars to the left of Boötes is appropriately known
as Corona Borealis, or the Northern Crown.
 The constellation of Boötes forms a pentagon; and the stars
composing it are all of the third magnitude, with the exception of α,
which is of the first. Arcturus, as we have said, was anciently
considered the star nearest to the Earth. It is, at all events, one of
the nearest, and belongs to the small number of those whose
distance our astronomers have succeeded in calculating. It is 61
trillions, 712,000 millions of leagues from our planet; a distance of
which we can form no appreciable conception. Moreover, it is a
coloured star; on examining it through a telescope we see that it is of
the same hue as the “red planet Mars.”
By carrying a line from the Polar Star to Arcturus, and raising a
perpendicular in the middle of this line, opposite to Ursa Major, the
observer of the Arctic skies will discover one of the most luminous
orbs of night, Vega, or α Lyra, near the Milky Way. The star β Lyra, or
Sheliak, is a variable star, changing from the third to the fifth
magnitude, and accomplishing its variation in 6 days 10 hours and
34 minutes. β and ε Lyra are quadruple systems, each composed of
binary or twin-stars.
The line drawn from Arcturus to Vega cuts the constellation of
Hercules.
Between Ursa Major and Ursa Minor may be observed a
prolonged series of small stars, coiling, as it were, in a number of
convolutions, and extending towards Vega: these belong to the
constellation of the Dragon.
Such are the principal objects which attract the attention of the
traveller, when contemplating the star-studded firmament of the
Arctic night.
 CHAPTER III.
THE POLAR SEAS: ICEBERGS—ICE-FLOES—THE SEAL—THE WALRUS THE
NARWHAL—THE WHALE—SUNDRY FORMS OF MARINE LIFE.

hose masses of ice which, towering to a considerable

elevation above the surface of the water, are carried hither
and thither by the currents of the Polar Sea, are known as
Icebergs. They are fresh-water formations, originating in the great
glaciers of the northern highlands. For as the rivers continuously
pour their waters into the ocean, so do the glaciers incessantly glide
downward from the head of the valleys which they occupy, until,
arriving on the coast, they throw off their terminal projections, to be
carried afar by the action of the tidal waves.
These bergs, or floating mountains, are sometimes 250 to 300
feet above the level of the sea, and their capacity or bulk is invariably
equal to their height. From their specific gravity it has been
calculated that the volume of an iceberg below the water is eight
times that of the portion rising above it. They are frequently of the
most imposing magnitude. Ross, in his first expedition, fell in with
one in Baffin Bay, at a distance of seven leagues from land, which
had gone aground in sixty-one fathoms water. Its dimensions,
according to Lieutenant Parry, were 4,169 yards in length, 3,869
yards in breadth, and 51 feet in height. Its configuration is described
as resembling that of the back of the Isle of Wight, while its cliffs
recalled those chalky ramparts which stretch their glittering line to
the west of Dover. Its weight was computed at 1,292,397,673 tons.
Captain Graab examined a mass, on the west coast of Greenland,
which rose 120 feet out of the water, measured 4,000 feet in
circumference at the base, and was calculated to be equal in bulk to
upwards of 900,000,000 cubic feet. Dr. Hayes took the
measurements of a berg which had stranded off the little harbour of
Tessuissak, to the north of Melville Bay. The square wall which faced
towards his base of triangulation was somewhat more than three-
quarters of a mile in length, and 315 feet in height. As it was nearly
square-sided above the sea, it would be of the same shape beneath
it; and, according to the ratio already given, must have drifted
aground in a depth of fully half a mile. In other words, from base to
summit it must have stood as high as the peak of Snowdon. Its
cubical contents cannot have been less than about 27,000,000,000
feet, nor its weight than 2,000,000,000 tons!
When seen from a distance, the spectacle of any considerable
number of these slowly-moving mountains is very impressive, and it
becomes particularly magnificent if it should be lit up by the
splendour of the midnight sun. They are not only majestic in size, but
sublime in appearance, at one time assuming the likeness of a grand
cathedral church, at another, of a lofty obelisk; now of a dazzling
pyramid, and now of a cluster of lofty towers. Nature would seem to
have lavished upon them all her architectural fancy; and as they are
grandly swept along, one might be pardoned for supposing them to
be the sea-washed palaces of a race of ocean Titans.
 ARCHED ICEBERG OFF THE GREENLAND COAST.
In Melville Bay, Dr. Kane’s ship anchored to an iceberg, which
protected it from the fury of a violent gale. But he had not long
enjoyed the tranquil shelter it afforded, when a din of loud crackling
sounds was heard above; and small fragments of ice, not larger than
a walnut, began to dot the water, like the first big drops of a thunder-
shower. Dr. Kane and his crew did not neglect these indications; they
had barely time to cast off, however, before the face of the icy cliff fell
in ruins, crashing like near artillery.
 Afterwards he made fast to a larger berg, which he describes as
a moving breakwater, and of gigantic proportions; it kept its course
steadily towards the north.
When he got under weigh, and made for the north-east, through
a labyrinth of ice-floes, he was favoured with a gorgeous spectacle,
which hardly any excitement of peril could have induced him to
overlook. The midnight sun came out over the northern crest of the
huge berg, kindling variously-coloured fires on every part of its
surface, and making the ice around one sublime transparency of
illuminated gem-work, blazing carbuncles, and rubies and molten
gold.

AMONG THE BERGS—A NARROW ESCAPE.

Dr. Hayes describes an immense berg which resembled in its
general aspect the Westminster Palace of Sir Charles Barry’s
creation. It went to ruin before his eyes. First one tall tower tumbled
headlong into the water, starting from its surface an innumerable
swarm of gulls; then another followed; and at length, after five hours
of terrible disruption and crashing, not a fragment that rose fifty feet
above the water remained of this architectural colossus of ice.
These floating isles of ice are carried southward fully two
thousand miles from their parent glaciers to melt in the Atlantic,
where they communicate a perceptible coldness to the water for
thirty or forty miles around, while their influence on the atmospheric
temperature may be recognized at a greater distance. Their number
is extraordinary. As many as seven hundred bergs, each loftier than
the dome of St. Paul’s, some than the cross of St. Peter’s, have
been seen at once in the Polar basin; as if the Frost King had
despatched an armada to oppose the rash enterprise of man in
penetrating within his dominions. The waves break against them as
against an iron-bound coast, and often the spray is flung over their
very summits, like the spray of the rolling waters of the Channel over
the crest of the Eddystone Lighthouse. The ice crumbles from their
face, and tumbles down into the sea with a roar like that of artillery;
and as they waste away, through the combined action of air and
water, they occasionally lose their equilibrium and topple over,
producing a swell and a violent commotion which break up the
neighbouring ice-fields: the tumult spreads far and wide, and thunder
seems to peal around.
The fractures or rents frequently visible in the glittering cliffs of
the icebergs are of an emerald green, and look like patches of
beautiful fresh sward on cliffs of chalk; while pools of water of the
most exquisite sapphirine blue shine resplendent on their surface, or
leap down their craggy sides in luminous cascades. Even in the night
they are readily distinguished from afar by their effulgence; and in
foggy, hazy weather, by a peculiar blackness in the atmosphere. As
the Greenland Current frequently drifts them to the south of
Newfoundland, and even to the 40th or 39th parallel of latitude, the
ships and steamers crossing between Europe and America
sometimes meet them on their track. To come into collision with them
is certain destruction; and it is probable that some of those ill-fated
vessels which have left their harbours in safety, but have never since
been heard of,—as, for example, the steamer President,—have
perished through this cause.
But if they are sometimes dangerous to the mariner, they often
prove his security. As most of their bulk lies below the water-surface,
they are either carried along by under-currents against the wind, or
else from their colossal size they are able to defy the strongest gale,
and to move along with majestic slowness when every other kind of
ice is driven swiftly past them. And hence it happens that, when the
wind is contrary, the whaler is glad to bring his ship into smooth
water under their lee. In describing the difficulties of his passage
through the loose and drifting ice near Cape York, and the broken
ice-fields, Dr. Kane records the assistance he derived from the large
icebergs, to which he moored his vessel, and thus was enabled, he
says, to hold his own, however rapidly the surface-floes were
passing by him to the south.
Yet anchoring to a berg brings with it an occasional peril. As we
have already said, large pieces frequently loosen themselves from
the summit or sides, and fall into the sea with a far-resounding crash.
When this operation, “calving,” as it is called, takes place, woe to the
unfortunate ship which lies beneath!
All ice becomes excessively brittle under the influence of the sun
or of a temperate atmosphere, and a single blow from an axe will
suffice to split a huge berg asunder, burying the heedless adventurer
beneath the ruins, or hurling him into the yawning chasm.
Dr. Scoresby records the adventure of two sailors who had been
sent to attach an anchor to a berg. They set to work to hew a hole in
the ice, but scarcely had the first blow been struck, when the
colossal mass rent from top to bottom and fell asunder, the two
halves falling in opposite directions with a tremendous uproar. One
of the sailors, with remarkable presence of mind, instantly clambered
up the huge fragment on which he was sitting, and remained rocking
to and fro on the dizzy summit until its equilibrium was restored; the
other, falling between the masses, would probably have been
crushed to death if the current caused by their commotion had not
swept him within reach of the boat that was waiting for them.
 Fastening to a berg, says Sherard Osborn, has its risks and
dangers. Sometimes the first stroke of the man setting the ice-
anchor, by its concussion, causes the iceberg to break up, and the
people so employed run great risk of being injured; at another time,
vessels obliged to make fast under the steep side of a berg have
been seriously damaged by pieces detaching themselves from
overhead; and, again, the projecting masses, called tongues, which
form under water the base of the berg, have been known to break
off, and strike a vessel so severely as to sink her. All these perils are
duly detailed by every Arctic navigator, who is always mindful, in
mooring to an iceberg, to look for a side which is low and sloping,
without any tongues under water.
Captain Parry was once witness of that sublime spectacle, which,
though of frequent occurrence, is seldom seen by human eyes, the
entire dissolution of an enormous iceberg.
Its huge size and massiveness had been specially remarked, and
men thought that it might well resist “a century of sun and thaw.” It
looked as large as Westminster Abbey. All on board Captain Parry’s
ship described as a most wonderful spectacle this iceberg, without
any warning, completely breaking up. The sea around it became a
seething caldron, from the violent plunging of the masses, as they
broke and re-broke in a thousand pieces. The floes, torn up for a
distance of two miles around it, by the violent action of the rolling
waters, threatened, from the agitation of the ice, to destroy any
vessel that had been amongst them; and Captain Parry and his crew
congratulated themselves that they were sufficiently far from the
scene to witness its sublimity without being involved in its danger.
 ICEBERG AND ICE-FIELD, MELVILLE BAY, GREENLAND
Icebergs chiefly abound in Baffin Bay, and in the gulfs and inlets
connected with it. They are particularly numerous in the great
indentation known as Melville Bay, the whole interior of the country
bordering upon it being the seat of immense glaciers, and these are
constantly “shedding off” icebergs of the largest dimensions. The
greater bulk of these is, as we have explained, below the water-line;
and the consequent depth to which they sink when floating subjects
them to the action of the deeper ocean-currents, while their broad
surface above the water is, of course, acted on by the wind. It
happens, therefore, as Dr. Kane remarks, that they are found not
infrequently moving in different directions from the floes around
them, and preventing them for a time from freezing into a united
mass. Still, in the late winter, when the cold has thoroughly set in,
Melville Bay becomes a continuous mass of ice, from Cape York to
the Devil’s Thumb. At other times, this region justifies the name the
whalers have bestowed upon it of “Bergy Hole.”
Captain Beechey, in his voyage with Buchan, in 1818, had an
opportunity of witnessing the formation of a “berg,” or rather of two of
these immense masses. In Magdalena Bay he had taken the ship’s
launch near the shore to examine a magnificent glacier, when the
discharge of a gun caused an instantaneous disruption of its bulk. A
noise resembling thunder was heard in the direction of the glacier,
and in a few seconds more an immense piece broke away, and fell
headlong into the sea. The crew of the launch, supposing
themselves beyond the reach of its influence, quietly looked upon
the scene, when a sea arose and rolled towards the shore with such
rapidity that the boat was washed upon the beach and filled. As soon
as their astonishment had subsided, they examined the boat, and
found her so badly stove that it was necessary to repair her before
they could return to their ship. They had also the curiosity to
measure the distance the boat had been carried by the wave, and
ascertained that it was ninety-six feet.
A short time afterwards, when Captain Beechey and Lieutenant
Franklin had approached one of these stupendous walls of ice, and
were endeavouring to search into the innermost recess of a deep
cavern that lay near the foot of the glacier, they suddenly heard a
report, as of a cannon, and turning to the quarter whence it
proceeded, perceived an immense section of the front of the glacier
sliding down from the height of two hundred feet at least into the sea,
and dispersing the water in every direction, accompanied by a loud
grinding noise, and followed by an outflow of water, which, being
previously lodged in the fissures, now made its escape in
innumerable tiny flashing rills and cataracts.
The mass thus disengaged at first disappeared wholly under
water, and nothing could be seen but a violent seething of the sea,
and the ascent of clouds of glittering spray, such as that which
occurs at the foot of a great waterfall. But after a short time it
reappeared, raising its head fully a hundred feet above the surface,
with water streaming down on every side; and then labouring, as if
doubtful which way it should fall, it rolled over, rocked to and fro for a
few minutes, and finally became settled.
On approaching and measuring it, Beechey found it to be nearly
a quarter of a mile in circumference, and sixty feet out of the water.
Knowing its specific gravity, and making a fair allowance for its
inequalities, he computed its weight at 421,660 tons.
In Parry’s first voyage he passed in one day fifty icebergs of large
dimensions, just after crossing the Arctic Circle; and on the following
day a still more extended chain of ice-peaks of still larger size,
against which a heavy southerly swell was violently driven, dashing
the loose ice with tremendous force, sometimes flinging a white
spray over them to the height of more than one hundred feet, and
accompanied by a loud noise “exactly resembling the roar of distant
thunder.”
Between one of these bergs and a detached floe the Hecla,
Parry’s ship, had nearly, as the whalers say, been “nipped,” or
crushed. The berg was about one hundred and forty feet high, and
aground in one hundred and twenty fathoms, so that its whole height
must have exceeded eight hundred feet; that is, it was of a bulk
equal to St. Catherine’s Down in the Isle of Wight.
In his second voyage Parry speaks of fifty-four icebergs visible at
one time, some of which were not less than two hundred feet above
the sea; and again of thirty of these huge masses, many of them
whirled about by the tides like straws on a mill-stream.
Icebergs can originate only in regions where glaciers abound: the
former are the offspring of the latter, and where land unsuitable to
the production of the latter does not exist, the former are never
found. Hence, in Baffin Bay, where steep cliffs of cold granite frown
over almost fathomless waters, the “monarch of glacial formations”
floats slowly from the ravine which has been its birthplace, until fairly
launched into the depths of ocean, and, “after long years,” drifts into
the warmer regions of the Atlantic to assist in the preservation of
Nature’s laws of equilibrium of temperature of the air and water.