Chapter Nineteen.The Sagacious Squirrel.“While we thus stood watching the movements of our beavers, and conversing about the habits of these interesting animals, an incident occurred which very much amused us, and proved that the beavers were not the only animals whom Nature had gifted with extraordinary sagacity.“Near the middle of the lake stood a clump of tall trees—their trunks immersed for two or three feet under the water. These trees had been upon the bank of the rivulet, previous to the formation of the dam; and they were now surrounded on all sides, forming a kind of timber islet. It was evident, however, that they were destined to decay, as they were trees of the poplar species, and such as could not live with their roots covered with water.“Among the tops of these trees we observed several small animals leaping nimbly about from branch to branch and from one tree to the other. They were squirrels. They seemed to be labouring under some unusual excitement—as though they had been alarmed by the presence of an enemy. But there did not appear to be any such enemy near them. We noticed that they passed from tree to tree, running down the trunks of each, as far as the water would allow them; and then, after looking outward, as if they intended to leap into the lake, they would suddenly turn back again, and gallop up into the high branches. There were in all about a dozen of them; but the nimbleness with which they passed from place to place, would have led one to believe that there were ten times that number; and the twigs and leaves were constantly kept in motion, as though a large flock of birds were fluttering through them.“We had noticed these animals before, from time to time, dashing about in the same clump of trees; but not thinking it anything unusual, had paid no attention to their movements. Now, however, it occurred to us that these little creatures—who never take to the water unless compelled by absolute necessity—had been suddenly cut off from their usual range by the forming of the dam, and were held where they were in a state of captivity. This was the more evident, as the trees had been stripped of many of their leaves, and the bark was peeled from the more tender twigs and branches. It was plain that the squirrels had been living for some time upon short allowance, and were anxious to get off from the place.“We now saw what was causing the unusual commotion among them at that particular time. Near the clump of trees, but higher up the lake, a small log was floating in the water. It had somehow got into the stream above, and was being borne down by the current. It was at this moment nearing the little island of timber upon which were the squirrels; but it came on very slowly, as the current through the lake was hardly perceptible. It was this log that was causing such a flurry; and the animals evidently intended—should it come near enough—to use it as a raft.“We seated ourselves to watch their manoeuvres. On came the log slowly and gradually; but, instead of drifting directly for the timber, it was borne by the current in a direction that would carry it at least twenty yards from the trees. The squirrels had gathered upon that side; and now, instead of running up and down the trunks, as before, they all stood upon the topmost branches apparently watching the motions of the log.“‘Poor little creatures!’ said Mary, ‘they will be unable to reach it, after all. What a pity!’“Just as she made this reflection, the log floated forward to the point where it was likely to be nearest to the clump in passing. A long branch stretched out in that direction; but, as we calculated, the driftwood was not likely to pass nearer than twenty yards. On this branch, however, the squirrels had now gathered, one behind the other in a long string, and we could see the foremost of them straining himself as if to spring.“‘Surely, they do not intend,—surely, they cannot leap so far!’ said Mary, as we all stood holding our breath, and watching them with intense curiosity.“‘Yes, Missa,’ replied Cudjo; ‘de do intend. Gosh! de leap him, too. Dis nigga see ’em in Vaginny leap far furrer. Looky now! Yonder de go—wap!’“As Cudjo spoke, the foremost squirrel launched out into the air, and the next moment pounced down upon the log. Then another followed, and another, and another, looking like so many birds flying through the air in a string, until the log was covered with the little creatures, and floated off with its cargo!“We supposed that they had all succeeded in getting off, but in this we were mistaken. On looking up to the trees again, we saw that there was still one remaining. He appeared not to have got out upon the projecting branch in time,—for the weight of each of those that preceded him, coming down upon the log had pushed it so far off, that he became, no doubt, afraid to venture taking such a long leap. He was now running to and fro, apparently in a frantic state—both on account of his inability to escape, and his being thus left alone. For some time he kept springing from tree to tree, running down the trunks of all to the very edge of the water, and stopping now and again to look hopelessly after his companions.“At length, we saw him descend a tree, whose bark was exceedingly rough—in fact, crisped outward in great broad pieces, or scales of a foot long, and several inches broad, that looked as though they were about to fall from the tree. For this reason, the tree is known among backwoodsmen as the ‘scaly bark.’ Having descended this tree, nearly to the point where it rose above the water, the squirrel was seen to stop; and for a moment we lost sight of him, where he was hidden behind one of the broad pieces of bark. We thought he had taken shelter there, intending to rest himself. Presently, however, we saw the bark moving backwards and forwards; and from what we could see of the little animal, it was evident he was trying with all his might to detach it from the tree. Occasionally he ran out from the crevice—scratched the bark outside with teeth and claws—and then hurriedly disappeared again.“These strange manoeuvres were kept up for several minutes, while we all remained upon the shore, watching with curiosity for the result.“At length, we saw the piece of bark move rapidly outward from the trunk, and hang down suspended only by a few fibres. These were soon gnawed by the teeth of the squirrel, and the broad scale fell into the water. It had hardly touched the surface, when the animal ran nimbly down, and leaped upon it! There was no current at the spot where the bark fell into the water; and we were in doubt whether it would carry him out from among the trees; but we were soon convinced that our squirrel knew what he was about. As soon as he had fairly balanced himself upon his tiny craft, he hoisted his broad bushy tail high up in the air, by way of a sail; and, the next moment, we saw that the breeze catching upon it wafted the little mariner slowly, but surely, outward! In a few seconds he had cleared the trees; and the wind soon brought him within the influence of the current, which caused his bark to float downward after his companions.“These had well-nigh reached the breastwork of the dam; and Harry wished very much to intercept them as they got to land. This wish, however, was overruled by his mother, who very justly declared that the little creatures deserved to escape, after having so well amused us by their ingenuity.“In a short time, they all leaped ashore, and went scampering off among the trees in search of a dinner—for by this time, no doubt, they were sufficiently hungry.”
“While we thus stood watching the movements of our beavers, and conversing about the habits of these interesting animals, an incident occurred which very much amused us, and proved that the beavers were not the only animals whom Nature had gifted with extraordinary sagacity.
“Near the middle of the lake stood a clump of tall trees—their trunks immersed for two or three feet under the water. These trees had been upon the bank of the rivulet, previous to the formation of the dam; and they were now surrounded on all sides, forming a kind of timber islet. It was evident, however, that they were destined to decay, as they were trees of the poplar species, and such as could not live with their roots covered with water.
“Among the tops of these trees we observed several small animals leaping nimbly about from branch to branch and from one tree to the other. They were squirrels. They seemed to be labouring under some unusual excitement—as though they had been alarmed by the presence of an enemy. But there did not appear to be any such enemy near them. We noticed that they passed from tree to tree, running down the trunks of each, as far as the water would allow them; and then, after looking outward, as if they intended to leap into the lake, they would suddenly turn back again, and gallop up into the high branches. There were in all about a dozen of them; but the nimbleness with which they passed from place to place, would have led one to believe that there were ten times that number; and the twigs and leaves were constantly kept in motion, as though a large flock of birds were fluttering through them.
“We had noticed these animals before, from time to time, dashing about in the same clump of trees; but not thinking it anything unusual, had paid no attention to their movements. Now, however, it occurred to us that these little creatures—who never take to the water unless compelled by absolute necessity—had been suddenly cut off from their usual range by the forming of the dam, and were held where they were in a state of captivity. This was the more evident, as the trees had been stripped of many of their leaves, and the bark was peeled from the more tender twigs and branches. It was plain that the squirrels had been living for some time upon short allowance, and were anxious to get off from the place.
“We now saw what was causing the unusual commotion among them at that particular time. Near the clump of trees, but higher up the lake, a small log was floating in the water. It had somehow got into the stream above, and was being borne down by the current. It was at this moment nearing the little island of timber upon which were the squirrels; but it came on very slowly, as the current through the lake was hardly perceptible. It was this log that was causing such a flurry; and the animals evidently intended—should it come near enough—to use it as a raft.
“We seated ourselves to watch their manoeuvres. On came the log slowly and gradually; but, instead of drifting directly for the timber, it was borne by the current in a direction that would carry it at least twenty yards from the trees. The squirrels had gathered upon that side; and now, instead of running up and down the trunks, as before, they all stood upon the topmost branches apparently watching the motions of the log.
“‘Poor little creatures!’ said Mary, ‘they will be unable to reach it, after all. What a pity!’
“Just as she made this reflection, the log floated forward to the point where it was likely to be nearest to the clump in passing. A long branch stretched out in that direction; but, as we calculated, the driftwood was not likely to pass nearer than twenty yards. On this branch, however, the squirrels had now gathered, one behind the other in a long string, and we could see the foremost of them straining himself as if to spring.
“‘Surely, they do not intend,—surely, they cannot leap so far!’ said Mary, as we all stood holding our breath, and watching them with intense curiosity.
“‘Yes, Missa,’ replied Cudjo; ‘de do intend. Gosh! de leap him, too. Dis nigga see ’em in Vaginny leap far furrer. Looky now! Yonder de go—wap!’
“As Cudjo spoke, the foremost squirrel launched out into the air, and the next moment pounced down upon the log. Then another followed, and another, and another, looking like so many birds flying through the air in a string, until the log was covered with the little creatures, and floated off with its cargo!
“We supposed that they had all succeeded in getting off, but in this we were mistaken. On looking up to the trees again, we saw that there was still one remaining. He appeared not to have got out upon the projecting branch in time,—for the weight of each of those that preceded him, coming down upon the log had pushed it so far off, that he became, no doubt, afraid to venture taking such a long leap. He was now running to and fro, apparently in a frantic state—both on account of his inability to escape, and his being thus left alone. For some time he kept springing from tree to tree, running down the trunks of all to the very edge of the water, and stopping now and again to look hopelessly after his companions.
“At length, we saw him descend a tree, whose bark was exceedingly rough—in fact, crisped outward in great broad pieces, or scales of a foot long, and several inches broad, that looked as though they were about to fall from the tree. For this reason, the tree is known among backwoodsmen as the ‘scaly bark.’ Having descended this tree, nearly to the point where it rose above the water, the squirrel was seen to stop; and for a moment we lost sight of him, where he was hidden behind one of the broad pieces of bark. We thought he had taken shelter there, intending to rest himself. Presently, however, we saw the bark moving backwards and forwards; and from what we could see of the little animal, it was evident he was trying with all his might to detach it from the tree. Occasionally he ran out from the crevice—scratched the bark outside with teeth and claws—and then hurriedly disappeared again.
“These strange manoeuvres were kept up for several minutes, while we all remained upon the shore, watching with curiosity for the result.
“At length, we saw the piece of bark move rapidly outward from the trunk, and hang down suspended only by a few fibres. These were soon gnawed by the teeth of the squirrel, and the broad scale fell into the water. It had hardly touched the surface, when the animal ran nimbly down, and leaped upon it! There was no current at the spot where the bark fell into the water; and we were in doubt whether it would carry him out from among the trees; but we were soon convinced that our squirrel knew what he was about. As soon as he had fairly balanced himself upon his tiny craft, he hoisted his broad bushy tail high up in the air, by way of a sail; and, the next moment, we saw that the breeze catching upon it wafted the little mariner slowly, but surely, outward! In a few seconds he had cleared the trees; and the wind soon brought him within the influence of the current, which caused his bark to float downward after his companions.
“These had well-nigh reached the breastwork of the dam; and Harry wished very much to intercept them as they got to land. This wish, however, was overruled by his mother, who very justly declared that the little creatures deserved to escape, after having so well amused us by their ingenuity.
“In a short time, they all leaped ashore, and went scampering off among the trees in search of a dinner—for by this time, no doubt, they were sufficiently hungry.”
Chapter Twenty.A House built without a Nail.“Next day Cudjo and I went on with our housebuilding. This day was appropriated to roofing it. We first laid a row of the clap-boards, projecting considerably over the eaves—so as to cast the water far out. These we secured near their lower ends by a long straight pole, which traversed the roof horizontally from gable to gable, and was lashed down by strips of wet elk-hide. These we knew would tighten as they dried, and press the pole firmer than ever against the boards.“We now laid a second row of the clap-boards—with their lower ends riding the upper ones of the first row, and thus securing them. The second row was in its turn secured by a horizontal pole, along its bottom, and at its top by the lower ends of the third row; and so on up to the ridge.“The other side was shingled in a similar manner; and the ridge itself was secured against leakage, by allowing the clap-boards, on one side, to project upwards, and shelter the ends of those on the other. This gave our cabin quite a chanticleer sort of comb along its top, and added to the picturesqueness of its appearance.“Our house was now built and roofed, and we could say that we had finished a house without ever having been inside of it—for as yet it had neither door nor windows. As the spaces between the logs were not yet ‘chinked,’ it looked more like a gigantic cage than a house.“Our next day was devoted to making the door and window—that is, making the apertures where these were to be. We designed having only one window—in the back.“The manner in which we opened our doorway was very simple. Having first carefully rested the logs—which were to be on each side of the door—upon firm wedges, we sawed away the parts between. Fortunately, we had a saw, or this operation would have given us a good deal of trouble. Of course, we sawed away the proper size for a door; and thus our doorway, by placing the lintels and posts, was complete. In a similar manner we cut out our window in the back. We then went to work upon one of the soft tulip-trees, and sawed out enough plank to make a door and window, or rather a window-shutter. These we cut to the proper size, and bound them together by slats, and trenails made out of the hard locust-wood. We then hung them—both door and window-shutter—with strips of elk-skin. That night we carried in all our bedding and utensils, and slept under the roof of our new house.“It was still far from being finished; and the next day we set about building a fireplace and chimney. This, of course, was to be in one of the gable ends; and we chose that looking northward—for we had built our cabin fronting the east. We wedged the logs precisely as we had done with the door, and then sawed away the space between—up to the height of an ordinary mantel-piece. Behind this, and altogether outside the house, we built a fireplace of stones and clay—laying a hearth of the same materials, that completely covered the sleeper—in order to prevent the latter from being burned. On the top of this fireplace, the chimney was still to be erected; and this was done by notching short straight pieces of timber, and placing them across each other, exactly as we had laid the logs of the house itself. These pieces were put in shorter, as we advanced to the top—so that the top ones might be lighter and more easily supported by those below; and when the whole was finished, and the chinks filled with clay, our chimney tapered upward like the funnel of a little factory. The chimney and fireplace occupied us quite a day, and at night—although it was not very cold—we tried it with a log-fire. It drew beautifully.“Next day we ‘chinked’ the walls all round with chips, stones, and clay. We chinked gables and all, until not a hole was to be seen that would let a mouse through. The floor still remained; but we intended to lay this with plank, and as we had no means of getting them except by our small saw, and they would require some time to dry, we resolved to attend, first, to several other things that were of more necessity, and finish the floor at our leisure. We carpeted the ground, which was quite dry, with green palmetto leaves, and that rendered it sufficiently comfortable for the present. We now formally entered our new house, which we had built from floor to chimneywithout a nail!“Our next care was to furnish our horse with a house—in other words, to build a stable. Not that the weather rendered it at all necessary for Pompo—so our horse was called—to sleep under a roof; but we were fearful lest some beast of prey, prowling about by night, should fancy him—as the carcajou had fancied our poor ox.“The stable was only a two days’ job—as we built it out of logs already cut, and roofed it with the refuse of our clap-boards. Besides, we had no window nor chimney to make, and we did not chink the logs, as that was not necessary for a stable in such a climate. Our horse would be warm enough without that; and Cudjo had made him a trough by hollowing out one of the tulip-trees.“From that time forth Pompo was regularly called every evening at sunset, and shut up in his stable. We could not afford to let the carcajou make a meal of him, as in our log-hauling and other labours he was of great service to us.“As soon as the stable was finished, we set to work and put up a table and six strong chairs. As I have said, we had no nails; but, fortunately enough, I had both a chisel and auger, with several other useful tools. All of these I had brought in the great chest from Virginia, thinking they might be needed on our beautiful farm at Cairo. With the help of these, and Cudjo’s great skill as a joiner, we were able to mortise and dovetail at our pleasure; and I had made a most excellent glue from the horns and hoofs of the elk and ox. We wanted a plane to polish our table, but this was a want which we could easily endure. The lid of our table was made of plank sawn out of the catalpa-tree; and with some pieces of pumice I had picked up in the valley, and the constant scouring which it received at the hands of our housewife, it soon exhibited a surface as smooth as glass. From my finding this pumice-stone, I concluded that our snow-mountain had once been a volcano—perhaps like the peak of Teneriffe, standing alone in the water, when the great plain around us had been covered with a sea.“Cudjo and I did not forget the promise we had made to the beavers. We could see these little creatures, from day to day, very busy in drawing large branches to the water, and then floating them towards their houses. We knew that this was for their winter provisions. They had grown quite tame, as soon as they found we were not going to molest them; and frequently came out on our side of the lake. For this confidence on their part we were determined to give them a treat they little dreamt of—at least, of receiving from our hands.“I had noticed a clump of beautiful trees, which grew near one side of the glade, and not far from where we had built our house. Our attention had been called to them by the aromatic fragrance of their flowers, that blew around us all the time we were engaged in building. They were low, crooked trees, not over thirty feet in height—with oval leaves, six inches in length, and of a bluish-green colour. The flowers were about the size of a rose, although more like a lily in appearance, and white as snow. Their perfume was extremely agreeable, and Mary was in the habit of gathering a bunch of them daily, and placing them in a vessel of water.“I have already said that my wife understood botany, and all botanists take a pleasure in imparting their knowledge to others. She explained to us, therefore, the nature and properties of this sweet-scented tree. It was a species of magnolia—not that which is celebrated for its large flowers, but another kind. It was themagnolia glauca, sometimes called ‘swamp sassafras,’ but more generally known among hunters and trappers as the ‘beaver-tree.’ It is so named by them, because the beaver is fonder of its roots than of any other food; so fond of it, indeed, that it is often used as a bait to the traps by which these animals are caught.“Whether our beavers had already discovered their favourite tree in some other part of the valley, we did not know. Probably they had; but, at all events, Cudjo and I by a very little labour, with our spade and axe, could save them a great deal; and so we set about it.“In a few hours we dug up several armfuls of the long branching roots, and carried them down to the edge of the lake. We flung them into the water at a place where we knew the animals were in the habit of frequenting. In a short time the aromatic roots were discovered, when a whole crowd of beavers were seen hurrying to the spot, and swimming off again to their houses, each with a root or a whole bunch of them in his teeth. That was a grand festival for the beavers.”
“Next day Cudjo and I went on with our housebuilding. This day was appropriated to roofing it. We first laid a row of the clap-boards, projecting considerably over the eaves—so as to cast the water far out. These we secured near their lower ends by a long straight pole, which traversed the roof horizontally from gable to gable, and was lashed down by strips of wet elk-hide. These we knew would tighten as they dried, and press the pole firmer than ever against the boards.
“We now laid a second row of the clap-boards—with their lower ends riding the upper ones of the first row, and thus securing them. The second row was in its turn secured by a horizontal pole, along its bottom, and at its top by the lower ends of the third row; and so on up to the ridge.
“The other side was shingled in a similar manner; and the ridge itself was secured against leakage, by allowing the clap-boards, on one side, to project upwards, and shelter the ends of those on the other. This gave our cabin quite a chanticleer sort of comb along its top, and added to the picturesqueness of its appearance.
“Our house was now built and roofed, and we could say that we had finished a house without ever having been inside of it—for as yet it had neither door nor windows. As the spaces between the logs were not yet ‘chinked,’ it looked more like a gigantic cage than a house.
“Our next day was devoted to making the door and window—that is, making the apertures where these were to be. We designed having only one window—in the back.
“The manner in which we opened our doorway was very simple. Having first carefully rested the logs—which were to be on each side of the door—upon firm wedges, we sawed away the parts between. Fortunately, we had a saw, or this operation would have given us a good deal of trouble. Of course, we sawed away the proper size for a door; and thus our doorway, by placing the lintels and posts, was complete. In a similar manner we cut out our window in the back. We then went to work upon one of the soft tulip-trees, and sawed out enough plank to make a door and window, or rather a window-shutter. These we cut to the proper size, and bound them together by slats, and trenails made out of the hard locust-wood. We then hung them—both door and window-shutter—with strips of elk-skin. That night we carried in all our bedding and utensils, and slept under the roof of our new house.
“It was still far from being finished; and the next day we set about building a fireplace and chimney. This, of course, was to be in one of the gable ends; and we chose that looking northward—for we had built our cabin fronting the east. We wedged the logs precisely as we had done with the door, and then sawed away the space between—up to the height of an ordinary mantel-piece. Behind this, and altogether outside the house, we built a fireplace of stones and clay—laying a hearth of the same materials, that completely covered the sleeper—in order to prevent the latter from being burned. On the top of this fireplace, the chimney was still to be erected; and this was done by notching short straight pieces of timber, and placing them across each other, exactly as we had laid the logs of the house itself. These pieces were put in shorter, as we advanced to the top—so that the top ones might be lighter and more easily supported by those below; and when the whole was finished, and the chinks filled with clay, our chimney tapered upward like the funnel of a little factory. The chimney and fireplace occupied us quite a day, and at night—although it was not very cold—we tried it with a log-fire. It drew beautifully.
“Next day we ‘chinked’ the walls all round with chips, stones, and clay. We chinked gables and all, until not a hole was to be seen that would let a mouse through. The floor still remained; but we intended to lay this with plank, and as we had no means of getting them except by our small saw, and they would require some time to dry, we resolved to attend, first, to several other things that were of more necessity, and finish the floor at our leisure. We carpeted the ground, which was quite dry, with green palmetto leaves, and that rendered it sufficiently comfortable for the present. We now formally entered our new house, which we had built from floor to chimneywithout a nail!
“Our next care was to furnish our horse with a house—in other words, to build a stable. Not that the weather rendered it at all necessary for Pompo—so our horse was called—to sleep under a roof; but we were fearful lest some beast of prey, prowling about by night, should fancy him—as the carcajou had fancied our poor ox.
“The stable was only a two days’ job—as we built it out of logs already cut, and roofed it with the refuse of our clap-boards. Besides, we had no window nor chimney to make, and we did not chink the logs, as that was not necessary for a stable in such a climate. Our horse would be warm enough without that; and Cudjo had made him a trough by hollowing out one of the tulip-trees.
“From that time forth Pompo was regularly called every evening at sunset, and shut up in his stable. We could not afford to let the carcajou make a meal of him, as in our log-hauling and other labours he was of great service to us.
“As soon as the stable was finished, we set to work and put up a table and six strong chairs. As I have said, we had no nails; but, fortunately enough, I had both a chisel and auger, with several other useful tools. All of these I had brought in the great chest from Virginia, thinking they might be needed on our beautiful farm at Cairo. With the help of these, and Cudjo’s great skill as a joiner, we were able to mortise and dovetail at our pleasure; and I had made a most excellent glue from the horns and hoofs of the elk and ox. We wanted a plane to polish our table, but this was a want which we could easily endure. The lid of our table was made of plank sawn out of the catalpa-tree; and with some pieces of pumice I had picked up in the valley, and the constant scouring which it received at the hands of our housewife, it soon exhibited a surface as smooth as glass. From my finding this pumice-stone, I concluded that our snow-mountain had once been a volcano—perhaps like the peak of Teneriffe, standing alone in the water, when the great plain around us had been covered with a sea.
“Cudjo and I did not forget the promise we had made to the beavers. We could see these little creatures, from day to day, very busy in drawing large branches to the water, and then floating them towards their houses. We knew that this was for their winter provisions. They had grown quite tame, as soon as they found we were not going to molest them; and frequently came out on our side of the lake. For this confidence on their part we were determined to give them a treat they little dreamt of—at least, of receiving from our hands.
“I had noticed a clump of beautiful trees, which grew near one side of the glade, and not far from where we had built our house. Our attention had been called to them by the aromatic fragrance of their flowers, that blew around us all the time we were engaged in building. They were low, crooked trees, not over thirty feet in height—with oval leaves, six inches in length, and of a bluish-green colour. The flowers were about the size of a rose, although more like a lily in appearance, and white as snow. Their perfume was extremely agreeable, and Mary was in the habit of gathering a bunch of them daily, and placing them in a vessel of water.
“I have already said that my wife understood botany, and all botanists take a pleasure in imparting their knowledge to others. She explained to us, therefore, the nature and properties of this sweet-scented tree. It was a species of magnolia—not that which is celebrated for its large flowers, but another kind. It was themagnolia glauca, sometimes called ‘swamp sassafras,’ but more generally known among hunters and trappers as the ‘beaver-tree.’ It is so named by them, because the beaver is fonder of its roots than of any other food; so fond of it, indeed, that it is often used as a bait to the traps by which these animals are caught.
“Whether our beavers had already discovered their favourite tree in some other part of the valley, we did not know. Probably they had; but, at all events, Cudjo and I by a very little labour, with our spade and axe, could save them a great deal; and so we set about it.
“In a few hours we dug up several armfuls of the long branching roots, and carried them down to the edge of the lake. We flung them into the water at a place where we knew the animals were in the habit of frequenting. In a short time the aromatic roots were discovered, when a whole crowd of beavers were seen hurrying to the spot, and swimming off again to their houses, each with a root or a whole bunch of them in his teeth. That was a grand festival for the beavers.”
Chapter Twenty One.A Battue of “Black-Tails.”“Of course we could do nothing more for our beavers at present. It was not our intention to trap any of them until they should become very numerous, and then we could obtain annually a large number of skins. Their tails, we knew, were very good to eat—in fact, quite a delicacy—but we could not afford to kill one of them merely for the sake of eating his tail; and the other parts of the beaver’s flesh are by no means palatable. Besides, we expected to find enough of game without that, as in every part, where the ground was soft, we saw the tracks of deer and other animals.“By the time we had fairly furnished our house, the flesh of the elk was beginning to run short, so that a grand hunting excursion was determined upon. It was also to be an exploring expedition, as up to this time we had not visited any part of the valley except that which lay immediately around our house. Frank, Harry, and myself, were to form the party, while Cudjo was to remain by the house, and guard the female portion of our little community with his great spear.“Everything being ready, we started out with our three rifles, and took the route up the valley. As we passed along under high trees, we could see squirrels upon all sides of us; some of them sitting on their hind-quarters like little monkeys; some of them cracking nuts; some of them barking like toy-dogs; while others, again, leaped about among the branches. As we advanced upon them, they sprang up the trees, or streaked off along the ground so swiftly that it seemed more like the flight of a bird than the running of a four-footed animal. On reaching a tree they would gallop up it, generally keeping on the opposite side to that on which we were, so that they might be secure. Sometimes, however, their curiosity would get the better of their fears, and when they had climbed as high as the first or second forking or the branches, they would stop there and gaze down upon us, all the while flourishing their light bushy tails. We had excellent opportunities of getting a shot at them, and Harry, who was not so thoughtful as his brother, wished very much to try his skill; but I forbade this, telling him that we could not afford to throw away our ammunition on such small game. Indeed, this was a thought that frequently entered my mind, and made me anxious about what we should do when our ammunition became exhausted. I cautioned both my boys, therefore, not to spend a single shot on any animal smaller than elk or deer, and they promised to obey me.“When we had gone about a mile up-stream, we saw that the trees grew thinner as we advanced, and then opened into small glades, or spaces covered with herbage and flowers, usually called ‘openings.’ This, surely, was the very place to find deer—much more likely than in the thick woods, where these animals are in more danger from the cougar and carcajou, that occasionally drop upon them from the trees. We had not gone far among these openings, before we saw fresh tracks. They were more like the tracks of a goat than those of a deer, except that they were much larger. They were nearly as large as the tracks of the elk, but we knew they were not these.“We advanced with great caution, keeping in the underwood as much as possible. At length we saw that there was a large glade before us, much larger than any we had yet passed. We could tell this by the wide clear spaces that appeared through the trees. We stole silently forward to the edge of this glade, and, to our great satisfaction, saw a herd of deer feeding quietly out upon the open ground.“‘Papa, they are not deer,’ said Frank, as we first came in sight of them. ‘See! who ever heard of deer with such ears as those? I declare they are as long as a mule’s!’“‘Yes,’ added Harry; ‘and who ever heard of deer with black-tails?’“I confess I was myself puzzled for a while. The animals before us were certainly deer, as their long slender legs and great branched antlers testified; but they were very different from the common kind—and different, too, from the elk. They were much larger than the red or fallow-deer, though not unlike them in shape and colour. But that which was strange, as my boys had at once noticed, was the peculiarity of their ears and tails. The former were quite as long as the ears of a mule, and reached more that half-way to the tops of their antlers. Their tails, again, were short and bushy, of a whitish colour underneath, but on the top and above as black as the wing of a crow. There were also some black hairs upon their backs, and a black stripe along the neck and shoulders, while their noses on each side were of a pale ashy colour—all of which marks gave them a very different appearance from the Virginian or English deer.“I have said that I was at first puzzled; but I soon recollected having heard of these animals, although they are but little known to naturalists. They could be no other than the ‘black-tailed deer’ of the Rocky Mountains—thecervus macrotisdescribed by the naturalist Say. This was evident, both from their size, the great length of their ears—but more than all from the colour of their tails, from which last circumstance their common name has been given them by the hunters and trappers.“We did not stop long to examine them. We were too anxious to have a shot at them; but how were we to get near enough? There were seven of them in the herd; but they were quite out in the middle of the glade, and that was more than three hundred yards wide. The nearest of the seven was beyond the range even of my long rifle. What, then, was best to be done?“After thinking about this for a moment, I saw that an open passage led out of the glade through the trees on the other side. It was a wide avenue leading into some other glade; and I knew that the deer when startled would be most likely to make off in that direction. I determined, therefore, to creep round to the other side, and intercept them as they attempted to run through. Frank was to remain where we first saw them, while Harry would go half-way along with me, and then take his stand behind a tree. We should thus enclose the deer in a sort of triangle, and some one of us would be sure of getting them within range before they could escape.“I had scarcely got to the edge of the opening when I saw that the herd was browsing in towards Frank. They were every moment getting closer and closer to him, and I watched eagerly for the shot. I knew he would not fire until they were very near, as I had cautioned him not to do so, on account of the smallness of his rifle. Presently I saw the stream of smoke and fire issuing from the leaves; then followed the sharp crack, and then the yelping of our dogs as they broke forward. At the same time one of the deer was seen to spring upward and fall dead in its tracks. The others wheeled and ran, first one way and then another, in their confusion; until, after doubling several times, they made towards the opening where I stood. In their flight, however, they had gone too close to Harry, and as they were running past his stand, the tiny crack of a rifle was heard among the bushes; and another of the black-tails rolled over on the plain.“It was now my turn; and I prepared myself to make the best shot I could or be beaten by my own boys. So as they came up I let drive at them, to my mortification missing them every one—as I thought at the moment. It soon appeared, however, that I was mistaken in this. Castor and Pollux swept past upon the heels of the herd; and before they had disappeared out of the long avenue, I saw the dogs spring upon the haunches of one that lagged behind, and drag him to the ground. I ran to their assistance, and seizing the wounded animal by one of its antlers, soon put an end to it with my knife. I had wounded it in the flank; and that had enabled the mastiffs to overtake it, which they could not have done otherwise, as its companions were at the time several hundred yards ahead of it. We all now came together, exulting in the fine fortune we had met with, for we had made a regularbattueof it. We were glad that none of us had missed, and that we had succeeded in obtaining so much good meat, for we were not slaughtering these beautiful creatures out of wanton sport, but from the necessity of procuring food. Each congratulated the others upon their good shooting, and said nothing of his own—although it was plain that all three of us were proud of our respective shots. To do justice, however, that of Harry was decidedly the best. He had knocked his one over while on the run—no easy matter with these black-tails, who do not gallop regularly as other deer, but bound forward, lifting all their feet together, as you will sometimes see sheep do. This mode of running is one of the peculiarities of their species—which, perhaps, more than any other thing, distinguishes them from the common deer.“After carefully wiping out, and then reloading, our rifles, we rested them against the trees, and set to work to skin our game.“While engaged in this operation, Harry complained of thirst. Indeed, we were all thirsty as well, for the sun was hot, and we had walked a good distance. We could not be far from the stream, although we were not sure of its direction; and Harry, taking the tin cup which we had brought with us, set out to find it, promising soon to return with water for our relief. He had only left us but a short while, when we heard him calling back through the trees; and, thinking that some animal might have attacked him, Frank and I seized our rifles, and ran after him. On coming up, we were surprised to find him standing quietly on the bank of a crystal rivulet, holding the cup=full of water in his hand.“‘Why did you bring us away?’ asked Frank.“‘Taste this,’ replied he; ‘here’s a pickle!’“‘Oh, papa!’ cried Frank, after applying the cup to his lips; ‘salt as brine, I declare.’“‘Salt you may say,’ continued his brother; ‘the sea itself is not so salt—taste it, papa!’“I did as I was desired; and, to my delight, I found that the water of the rivulet was, what Frank had alleged, ‘salt as brine.’ I say to my delight, for I was greatly pleased at this discovery. The boys could not understand this, as they, being now very thirsty, would much rather have met with a cup of fresh, than a whole river of salt water. I soon pointed out to them the importance of what we had found. We had hitherto been in great need of salt—for we had not a single grain of it—and had felt the want ever since our arrival in the valley. Only they who cannot get salt, can understand what a terrible thing it is to be without this homely, but necessary article.“The flesh of our elk, which for many days past we lived upon, had proved quite insipid for want of salt; and we had not been able to make a soup that was in any way palatable. Now, however, we should have as much as we desired; and I explained to my companions, that by simply boiling this water in our kettle, we should obtain the very thing we so much stood in need of. This, as they saw, would be great news for mamma on our return; and the prospect of making her happy, by imparting the information, rendered all of us impatient to get back. We did not stay a moment by the salt stream—which was a very small rivulet of blue water, and evidently ran from some spring that bubbled up in the valley. Not far below us, we saw where it emptied itself into the main stream of fresh water; and, keeping down to the latter, we quenched our thirst, and then went back to our work.“We made all the haste we could; and our three black-tails were soon skinned, quartered, and hung upon the trees—so as to be out of reach of the wolves while we should be gone. We then shouldered our rifles, and hurried back to the house.”
“Of course we could do nothing more for our beavers at present. It was not our intention to trap any of them until they should become very numerous, and then we could obtain annually a large number of skins. Their tails, we knew, were very good to eat—in fact, quite a delicacy—but we could not afford to kill one of them merely for the sake of eating his tail; and the other parts of the beaver’s flesh are by no means palatable. Besides, we expected to find enough of game without that, as in every part, where the ground was soft, we saw the tracks of deer and other animals.
“By the time we had fairly furnished our house, the flesh of the elk was beginning to run short, so that a grand hunting excursion was determined upon. It was also to be an exploring expedition, as up to this time we had not visited any part of the valley except that which lay immediately around our house. Frank, Harry, and myself, were to form the party, while Cudjo was to remain by the house, and guard the female portion of our little community with his great spear.
“Everything being ready, we started out with our three rifles, and took the route up the valley. As we passed along under high trees, we could see squirrels upon all sides of us; some of them sitting on their hind-quarters like little monkeys; some of them cracking nuts; some of them barking like toy-dogs; while others, again, leaped about among the branches. As we advanced upon them, they sprang up the trees, or streaked off along the ground so swiftly that it seemed more like the flight of a bird than the running of a four-footed animal. On reaching a tree they would gallop up it, generally keeping on the opposite side to that on which we were, so that they might be secure. Sometimes, however, their curiosity would get the better of their fears, and when they had climbed as high as the first or second forking or the branches, they would stop there and gaze down upon us, all the while flourishing their light bushy tails. We had excellent opportunities of getting a shot at them, and Harry, who was not so thoughtful as his brother, wished very much to try his skill; but I forbade this, telling him that we could not afford to throw away our ammunition on such small game. Indeed, this was a thought that frequently entered my mind, and made me anxious about what we should do when our ammunition became exhausted. I cautioned both my boys, therefore, not to spend a single shot on any animal smaller than elk or deer, and they promised to obey me.
“When we had gone about a mile up-stream, we saw that the trees grew thinner as we advanced, and then opened into small glades, or spaces covered with herbage and flowers, usually called ‘openings.’ This, surely, was the very place to find deer—much more likely than in the thick woods, where these animals are in more danger from the cougar and carcajou, that occasionally drop upon them from the trees. We had not gone far among these openings, before we saw fresh tracks. They were more like the tracks of a goat than those of a deer, except that they were much larger. They were nearly as large as the tracks of the elk, but we knew they were not these.
“We advanced with great caution, keeping in the underwood as much as possible. At length we saw that there was a large glade before us, much larger than any we had yet passed. We could tell this by the wide clear spaces that appeared through the trees. We stole silently forward to the edge of this glade, and, to our great satisfaction, saw a herd of deer feeding quietly out upon the open ground.
“‘Papa, they are not deer,’ said Frank, as we first came in sight of them. ‘See! who ever heard of deer with such ears as those? I declare they are as long as a mule’s!’
“‘Yes,’ added Harry; ‘and who ever heard of deer with black-tails?’
“I confess I was myself puzzled for a while. The animals before us were certainly deer, as their long slender legs and great branched antlers testified; but they were very different from the common kind—and different, too, from the elk. They were much larger than the red or fallow-deer, though not unlike them in shape and colour. But that which was strange, as my boys had at once noticed, was the peculiarity of their ears and tails. The former were quite as long as the ears of a mule, and reached more that half-way to the tops of their antlers. Their tails, again, were short and bushy, of a whitish colour underneath, but on the top and above as black as the wing of a crow. There were also some black hairs upon their backs, and a black stripe along the neck and shoulders, while their noses on each side were of a pale ashy colour—all of which marks gave them a very different appearance from the Virginian or English deer.
“I have said that I was at first puzzled; but I soon recollected having heard of these animals, although they are but little known to naturalists. They could be no other than the ‘black-tailed deer’ of the Rocky Mountains—thecervus macrotisdescribed by the naturalist Say. This was evident, both from their size, the great length of their ears—but more than all from the colour of their tails, from which last circumstance their common name has been given them by the hunters and trappers.
“We did not stop long to examine them. We were too anxious to have a shot at them; but how were we to get near enough? There were seven of them in the herd; but they were quite out in the middle of the glade, and that was more than three hundred yards wide. The nearest of the seven was beyond the range even of my long rifle. What, then, was best to be done?
“After thinking about this for a moment, I saw that an open passage led out of the glade through the trees on the other side. It was a wide avenue leading into some other glade; and I knew that the deer when startled would be most likely to make off in that direction. I determined, therefore, to creep round to the other side, and intercept them as they attempted to run through. Frank was to remain where we first saw them, while Harry would go half-way along with me, and then take his stand behind a tree. We should thus enclose the deer in a sort of triangle, and some one of us would be sure of getting them within range before they could escape.
“I had scarcely got to the edge of the opening when I saw that the herd was browsing in towards Frank. They were every moment getting closer and closer to him, and I watched eagerly for the shot. I knew he would not fire until they were very near, as I had cautioned him not to do so, on account of the smallness of his rifle. Presently I saw the stream of smoke and fire issuing from the leaves; then followed the sharp crack, and then the yelping of our dogs as they broke forward. At the same time one of the deer was seen to spring upward and fall dead in its tracks. The others wheeled and ran, first one way and then another, in their confusion; until, after doubling several times, they made towards the opening where I stood. In their flight, however, they had gone too close to Harry, and as they were running past his stand, the tiny crack of a rifle was heard among the bushes; and another of the black-tails rolled over on the plain.
“It was now my turn; and I prepared myself to make the best shot I could or be beaten by my own boys. So as they came up I let drive at them, to my mortification missing them every one—as I thought at the moment. It soon appeared, however, that I was mistaken in this. Castor and Pollux swept past upon the heels of the herd; and before they had disappeared out of the long avenue, I saw the dogs spring upon the haunches of one that lagged behind, and drag him to the ground. I ran to their assistance, and seizing the wounded animal by one of its antlers, soon put an end to it with my knife. I had wounded it in the flank; and that had enabled the mastiffs to overtake it, which they could not have done otherwise, as its companions were at the time several hundred yards ahead of it. We all now came together, exulting in the fine fortune we had met with, for we had made a regularbattueof it. We were glad that none of us had missed, and that we had succeeded in obtaining so much good meat, for we were not slaughtering these beautiful creatures out of wanton sport, but from the necessity of procuring food. Each congratulated the others upon their good shooting, and said nothing of his own—although it was plain that all three of us were proud of our respective shots. To do justice, however, that of Harry was decidedly the best. He had knocked his one over while on the run—no easy matter with these black-tails, who do not gallop regularly as other deer, but bound forward, lifting all their feet together, as you will sometimes see sheep do. This mode of running is one of the peculiarities of their species—which, perhaps, more than any other thing, distinguishes them from the common deer.
“After carefully wiping out, and then reloading, our rifles, we rested them against the trees, and set to work to skin our game.
“While engaged in this operation, Harry complained of thirst. Indeed, we were all thirsty as well, for the sun was hot, and we had walked a good distance. We could not be far from the stream, although we were not sure of its direction; and Harry, taking the tin cup which we had brought with us, set out to find it, promising soon to return with water for our relief. He had only left us but a short while, when we heard him calling back through the trees; and, thinking that some animal might have attacked him, Frank and I seized our rifles, and ran after him. On coming up, we were surprised to find him standing quietly on the bank of a crystal rivulet, holding the cup=full of water in his hand.
“‘Why did you bring us away?’ asked Frank.
“‘Taste this,’ replied he; ‘here’s a pickle!’
“‘Oh, papa!’ cried Frank, after applying the cup to his lips; ‘salt as brine, I declare.’
“‘Salt you may say,’ continued his brother; ‘the sea itself is not so salt—taste it, papa!’
“I did as I was desired; and, to my delight, I found that the water of the rivulet was, what Frank had alleged, ‘salt as brine.’ I say to my delight, for I was greatly pleased at this discovery. The boys could not understand this, as they, being now very thirsty, would much rather have met with a cup of fresh, than a whole river of salt water. I soon pointed out to them the importance of what we had found. We had hitherto been in great need of salt—for we had not a single grain of it—and had felt the want ever since our arrival in the valley. Only they who cannot get salt, can understand what a terrible thing it is to be without this homely, but necessary article.
“The flesh of our elk, which for many days past we lived upon, had proved quite insipid for want of salt; and we had not been able to make a soup that was in any way palatable. Now, however, we should have as much as we desired; and I explained to my companions, that by simply boiling this water in our kettle, we should obtain the very thing we so much stood in need of. This, as they saw, would be great news for mamma on our return; and the prospect of making her happy, by imparting the information, rendered all of us impatient to get back. We did not stay a moment by the salt stream—which was a very small rivulet of blue water, and evidently ran from some spring that bubbled up in the valley. Not far below us, we saw where it emptied itself into the main stream of fresh water; and, keeping down to the latter, we quenched our thirst, and then went back to our work.
“We made all the haste we could; and our three black-tails were soon skinned, quartered, and hung upon the trees—so as to be out of reach of the wolves while we should be gone. We then shouldered our rifles, and hurried back to the house.”
Chapter Twenty Two.Catching a Tartar.“Of course, Mary was much pleased at hearing of the discovery we had made. One of the first requisites of a housewife is a supply of good salt; and that we promised to obtain for her on the morrow. It was our intention to carry the kettle up to the salt stream, and there manufacture the article—as that would be more convenient than to bring the water down to the house. This piece of work we laid out for the next day. Meanwhile, as it was not yet near night, we caught Pompo, and set off again to bring home our black-tails. This required us to make several journeys—as we had no cart by which we could bring the deer all at once, and each of them was as large as a good-sized heifer. We succeeded, however, in getting all to the house before sunset—except the skins, which we left hanging on the trees for another day. While the boys and I had been engaged at this work, Cudjo was not idle. It was our intention to cure the venison—not by ‘jerking,’ as we had done the elk-meat, but with the salt, which we were about to make on the morrow. For this purpose, we should require a large vessel capable of holding the pickle. We had nothing of the sort; and, of course, we were puzzled for a while as to how we should manage without it. It was early in the day—before we had brought in the venison—that this difficulty occurred to us.“‘Why could we not leave it in the stream itself?’ asked Harry. ‘The water is very clear, and there are clean hard rocks on the bottom. Why could we not sink the quarters of venison on these rocks, and make them fast, by placing great stones on them?’“‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Frank, ‘trust the wolves for finding them there. These gentry would soon empty your famous pickle barrel.’“‘Look yar, Massa,’ said Cudjo; ‘this nigga sees no difficulty ’bout dat. He soon make a place for de meat.’“‘How, Cudjo?’ inquired Mary.“‘Why, Missa, same’s dey make de ole dug-out in Vaginny—by hollering out de log.’“This was the very thing itself. A log hollowed out after the manner of a canoe, or ‘dug-out,’—as Cudjo used to designate that species of craft—would answer the purpose admirably; and Cudjo, having chosen a section of a large tulip-tree, went to work. By the time we had got our last load to the house, he had made a cavity in the tree, that was capable of containing the three black-tails at once. A valuable idea was also suggested by this operation. We remembered the wooden trays, dishes, and other utensils—made in this way—that we had often seen among the negroes on our plantation. These, however rude, we saw answered the purpose well; and we might hereafter supply ourselves in a similar manner.“After breakfast the next morning, we started for the salt stream. We all went together, Mary riding the horse, while Cudjo and I carried the children in our arms. Frank and Harry took the kettle upon a long pole between them—each, at the same time, having his rifle in the other hand. The dogs of course followed us, and our house was left to take care of itself. We had hung the venison up on high branches, lest the wolves might take a fancy to it in our absence.“Mary was charmed with the scenery as we passed along, particularly where the woods began to open, as they did, towards the upper end of the valley. She noticed the various kind of trees as we advanced, and at one time uttered a joyous exclamation, as though she had seen something that pleased her more than common.“We questioned her as to what it was; but she would satisfy us no farther than by telling us, that she had made a discovery of nearly as much importance as our salt river. We were curious to know what it was, but my wife checked our curiosity by observing, very justly, that as we were happy enough at that time, she might make us too happy; and she should therefore reserve her secret until we got back to our house in the evening. ‘We may then be weary and out of spirits,’ added she, ‘but I have something to tell you that will make you all merry again.’“I could not help admiring the good sense and patience of my wife, thus reserving pleasant news for a time when they might be more available in producing a happy effect.“As we were marching through a small glade, talking and laughing in high glee, an animal leaped out of some bushes before us, and ran slowly off to one side. It was a beautiful little creature, about the size of a cat, with dark glossy hair, spotted about the head and neck, and with clear white stripes running along its back. It did not go far before it stopped; and, throwing up its long bushy tail, looked back at us with the playful and innocent air of a kitten. I knew very well what the pretty creature was. Not so the impetuous Harry, who, thinking that here was the very ‘pet’ he wanted, dropped his pole, kettle, and all, and made after it.“I cried out to him to desist; but the boy, either not hearing me—on account of the yelping of the dogs, who had also started in pursuit—or being too intent on making a capture, ran on after the animal. But the chase did not last long. The little creature, apparently not the least frightened at the terrible enemies that were so close upon its heels—stood near the edge of the glade, as if to await its pursuers Harry, as he ran, was all the while eagerly scolding off the dogs. He wanted to take the little beauty alive; and he feared that the mastiffs would kill it before he could come up. It looked, too, as if they would, for they were now almost on top of it yelping with open mouths. Just at this moment, the strange animal was seen to elevate its hind-quarters, throw its long tail forward over its back, and give a sudden jerk of its body, as if by way of an insult to its pursuers. But it meant something more than a mere insult. It meant to punish them for their audacity. The effect of that singular movement was at once apparent. The dogs suddenly wheeled in their tracks. Their victorious yelping was changed to a fearful howling; and both of them ran back thrusting their noses into the grass, and capering over the ground as if they had either been stung by wasps, or had suddenly fallen into convulsions! Harry stopped for a moment wondering at this. He did not stop long. The next moment we saw him throw his hands up to his face, and uttering a cry that betokened pain and terror, come running back as quick as he had gone off.“The pole-cat (for it was a pole-cat—themephitis chinga, or American skunk) after he had discharged the fetid shower, stood for an instant looking over his shoulder, in such a way that we could almost fancy he was laughing. Then jerking his tail from side to side in a frolicksome manner, he made a bound into the bramble, and disappeared.“Whether the skunk laughed or not,wedid—especially Frank, who took this method of retaliating upon his brother for dropping the great kettle against his shins. But we had no time to lose in talk, until we could get some distance from the glade, which was now filled with the suffocating smell; so, calling upon Harry to lay hold of his burden, we hurried as quickly as possible from the spot. The dogs, however, brought the effluvium along with them; and it required unusual scolding and pelting of stones to keep them at a respectful distance. Harry had come off better than I expected—as the animal had directed its battery against the dogs; and he had only received enough of the discharge to punish him for his rashness and disobedience.“As we continued our journey, I took the opportunity to instruct my children in the habits of this singular animal.“‘You have seen,’ said I, addressing myself to Frank and Harry, ‘that it is about the size of a cat, although broader and fleshier in the body, lower upon the limbs, and with a sharper and more elongated snout.“‘You have seen that it is a spotted and striped animal—and in this respect it also resembles the cat, as these spots and stripes are different upon different individuals of the same species—so much so that no two skunks are exactly alike in colour.“‘You have witnessed the efficient means with which Nature has armed it against its enemies; and I shall now tell you all the rest that is known of its habits.“‘It is acarnivorouscreature—destroying and eating many other beings that have life as well as itself. For this purpose it is furnished with strong, sharp claws, and three kinds of teeth, one of which—termed canine, or tearing teeth—is a certain symptom of its being a carnivorous, or flesh-eating animal. You must know, that the shape of the teeth will always prove this. Animals that feed upon vegetables, such as horses, sheep, rabbits, and deer, have none of these canine teeth. Well, the skunk has four of them—two in each jaw, and very sharp ones, too,—and with these he kills and eats (whenever he is lucky enough to get hold of them) rabbits, poultry, birds, mice, frogs, and lizards. He is very fond of eggs, too; and frequently robs the farm-yard, and the nests of the ruffed grouse and wild turkey—killing these birds whenever he can catch them. The killing, however, is not all upon his side—as the wolf, the horned owl, the wolverene, and the farmer, in their turn, lullhimwhenever they can catch him. He is not by any means a fast runner, and his safety does not lie in his swiftness of foot. His defensive armour is found in the fetid effluvium which, by a muscular exertion, he is capable of ejecting upon his pursuer. This he carries in two smallsacsthat lie under his tail, with ducts leading outward about as large as the tube of a goose-quill. The effluvium itself is caused by a thin fluid, which cannot be seen in daylight, but at night appears, when ejected, like a double stream of phosphoric light. He can throw it to the distance of five yards; and, knowing this, he always waits till the pursuer has fairly got within range—as the one we have just seen did with Castor and Pollux. The discharge of this fluid rarely fails to drive off such enemies as wolves, dogs, and men. Sometimes it occasions sickness and vomiting; and it is said that there are Indians who have lost their eyesight from inflammation caused by it. Dogs are frequently swollen and inflamed for weeks, after having received the discharge of a skunk. In addition to the disagreeableness of this odour, there is no getting rid of it after the fluid has once been sprinkled over your garments. Clothes may be washed and buried for months, but it will still cling to them; and where a skunk has been, killed, the spot will retain the scent for many months after, even though deep snow may have been lying upon it.“‘It is only when attacked or angered that the animal sends forth his offensive fluid; and when killed suddenly, or before he has had time to “fire it off,” nothing of the kind is perceived upon his carcass.“‘The skunk is a burrowing animal, and in cold countries he enters his hole, and sleeps in a half-torpid state throughout the winter. In warm climates, however, he continues to prowl about all the year round, generally at night—as, like most predatory creatures, the night is his day. In his burrow, which runs several yards underground, he lives, in company with ten or a dozen of his companions. The female has a nest in one part, made of grass and leaves, where she brings forth her young—having from five to nine kittens at a birth.“‘Strange as it may appear, the Indians, as well as many white men—hunters and others—eat the flesh of this animal, and pronounce it both savoury and agreeable—equal, as they allege, to the finest roast pig. So much for the skunk and his habits. Now to the making of our salt.’”
“Of course, Mary was much pleased at hearing of the discovery we had made. One of the first requisites of a housewife is a supply of good salt; and that we promised to obtain for her on the morrow. It was our intention to carry the kettle up to the salt stream, and there manufacture the article—as that would be more convenient than to bring the water down to the house. This piece of work we laid out for the next day. Meanwhile, as it was not yet near night, we caught Pompo, and set off again to bring home our black-tails. This required us to make several journeys—as we had no cart by which we could bring the deer all at once, and each of them was as large as a good-sized heifer. We succeeded, however, in getting all to the house before sunset—except the skins, which we left hanging on the trees for another day. While the boys and I had been engaged at this work, Cudjo was not idle. It was our intention to cure the venison—not by ‘jerking,’ as we had done the elk-meat, but with the salt, which we were about to make on the morrow. For this purpose, we should require a large vessel capable of holding the pickle. We had nothing of the sort; and, of course, we were puzzled for a while as to how we should manage without it. It was early in the day—before we had brought in the venison—that this difficulty occurred to us.
“‘Why could we not leave it in the stream itself?’ asked Harry. ‘The water is very clear, and there are clean hard rocks on the bottom. Why could we not sink the quarters of venison on these rocks, and make them fast, by placing great stones on them?’
“‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Frank, ‘trust the wolves for finding them there. These gentry would soon empty your famous pickle barrel.’
“‘Look yar, Massa,’ said Cudjo; ‘this nigga sees no difficulty ’bout dat. He soon make a place for de meat.’
“‘How, Cudjo?’ inquired Mary.
“‘Why, Missa, same’s dey make de ole dug-out in Vaginny—by hollering out de log.’
“This was the very thing itself. A log hollowed out after the manner of a canoe, or ‘dug-out,’—as Cudjo used to designate that species of craft—would answer the purpose admirably; and Cudjo, having chosen a section of a large tulip-tree, went to work. By the time we had got our last load to the house, he had made a cavity in the tree, that was capable of containing the three black-tails at once. A valuable idea was also suggested by this operation. We remembered the wooden trays, dishes, and other utensils—made in this way—that we had often seen among the negroes on our plantation. These, however rude, we saw answered the purpose well; and we might hereafter supply ourselves in a similar manner.
“After breakfast the next morning, we started for the salt stream. We all went together, Mary riding the horse, while Cudjo and I carried the children in our arms. Frank and Harry took the kettle upon a long pole between them—each, at the same time, having his rifle in the other hand. The dogs of course followed us, and our house was left to take care of itself. We had hung the venison up on high branches, lest the wolves might take a fancy to it in our absence.
“Mary was charmed with the scenery as we passed along, particularly where the woods began to open, as they did, towards the upper end of the valley. She noticed the various kind of trees as we advanced, and at one time uttered a joyous exclamation, as though she had seen something that pleased her more than common.
“We questioned her as to what it was; but she would satisfy us no farther than by telling us, that she had made a discovery of nearly as much importance as our salt river. We were curious to know what it was, but my wife checked our curiosity by observing, very justly, that as we were happy enough at that time, she might make us too happy; and she should therefore reserve her secret until we got back to our house in the evening. ‘We may then be weary and out of spirits,’ added she, ‘but I have something to tell you that will make you all merry again.’
“I could not help admiring the good sense and patience of my wife, thus reserving pleasant news for a time when they might be more available in producing a happy effect.
“As we were marching through a small glade, talking and laughing in high glee, an animal leaped out of some bushes before us, and ran slowly off to one side. It was a beautiful little creature, about the size of a cat, with dark glossy hair, spotted about the head and neck, and with clear white stripes running along its back. It did not go far before it stopped; and, throwing up its long bushy tail, looked back at us with the playful and innocent air of a kitten. I knew very well what the pretty creature was. Not so the impetuous Harry, who, thinking that here was the very ‘pet’ he wanted, dropped his pole, kettle, and all, and made after it.
“I cried out to him to desist; but the boy, either not hearing me—on account of the yelping of the dogs, who had also started in pursuit—or being too intent on making a capture, ran on after the animal. But the chase did not last long. The little creature, apparently not the least frightened at the terrible enemies that were so close upon its heels—stood near the edge of the glade, as if to await its pursuers Harry, as he ran, was all the while eagerly scolding off the dogs. He wanted to take the little beauty alive; and he feared that the mastiffs would kill it before he could come up. It looked, too, as if they would, for they were now almost on top of it yelping with open mouths. Just at this moment, the strange animal was seen to elevate its hind-quarters, throw its long tail forward over its back, and give a sudden jerk of its body, as if by way of an insult to its pursuers. But it meant something more than a mere insult. It meant to punish them for their audacity. The effect of that singular movement was at once apparent. The dogs suddenly wheeled in their tracks. Their victorious yelping was changed to a fearful howling; and both of them ran back thrusting their noses into the grass, and capering over the ground as if they had either been stung by wasps, or had suddenly fallen into convulsions! Harry stopped for a moment wondering at this. He did not stop long. The next moment we saw him throw his hands up to his face, and uttering a cry that betokened pain and terror, come running back as quick as he had gone off.
“The pole-cat (for it was a pole-cat—themephitis chinga, or American skunk) after he had discharged the fetid shower, stood for an instant looking over his shoulder, in such a way that we could almost fancy he was laughing. Then jerking his tail from side to side in a frolicksome manner, he made a bound into the bramble, and disappeared.
“Whether the skunk laughed or not,wedid—especially Frank, who took this method of retaliating upon his brother for dropping the great kettle against his shins. But we had no time to lose in talk, until we could get some distance from the glade, which was now filled with the suffocating smell; so, calling upon Harry to lay hold of his burden, we hurried as quickly as possible from the spot. The dogs, however, brought the effluvium along with them; and it required unusual scolding and pelting of stones to keep them at a respectful distance. Harry had come off better than I expected—as the animal had directed its battery against the dogs; and he had only received enough of the discharge to punish him for his rashness and disobedience.
“As we continued our journey, I took the opportunity to instruct my children in the habits of this singular animal.
“‘You have seen,’ said I, addressing myself to Frank and Harry, ‘that it is about the size of a cat, although broader and fleshier in the body, lower upon the limbs, and with a sharper and more elongated snout.
“‘You have seen that it is a spotted and striped animal—and in this respect it also resembles the cat, as these spots and stripes are different upon different individuals of the same species—so much so that no two skunks are exactly alike in colour.
“‘You have witnessed the efficient means with which Nature has armed it against its enemies; and I shall now tell you all the rest that is known of its habits.
“‘It is acarnivorouscreature—destroying and eating many other beings that have life as well as itself. For this purpose it is furnished with strong, sharp claws, and three kinds of teeth, one of which—termed canine, or tearing teeth—is a certain symptom of its being a carnivorous, or flesh-eating animal. You must know, that the shape of the teeth will always prove this. Animals that feed upon vegetables, such as horses, sheep, rabbits, and deer, have none of these canine teeth. Well, the skunk has four of them—two in each jaw, and very sharp ones, too,—and with these he kills and eats (whenever he is lucky enough to get hold of them) rabbits, poultry, birds, mice, frogs, and lizards. He is very fond of eggs, too; and frequently robs the farm-yard, and the nests of the ruffed grouse and wild turkey—killing these birds whenever he can catch them. The killing, however, is not all upon his side—as the wolf, the horned owl, the wolverene, and the farmer, in their turn, lullhimwhenever they can catch him. He is not by any means a fast runner, and his safety does not lie in his swiftness of foot. His defensive armour is found in the fetid effluvium which, by a muscular exertion, he is capable of ejecting upon his pursuer. This he carries in two smallsacsthat lie under his tail, with ducts leading outward about as large as the tube of a goose-quill. The effluvium itself is caused by a thin fluid, which cannot be seen in daylight, but at night appears, when ejected, like a double stream of phosphoric light. He can throw it to the distance of five yards; and, knowing this, he always waits till the pursuer has fairly got within range—as the one we have just seen did with Castor and Pollux. The discharge of this fluid rarely fails to drive off such enemies as wolves, dogs, and men. Sometimes it occasions sickness and vomiting; and it is said that there are Indians who have lost their eyesight from inflammation caused by it. Dogs are frequently swollen and inflamed for weeks, after having received the discharge of a skunk. In addition to the disagreeableness of this odour, there is no getting rid of it after the fluid has once been sprinkled over your garments. Clothes may be washed and buried for months, but it will still cling to them; and where a skunk has been, killed, the spot will retain the scent for many months after, even though deep snow may have been lying upon it.
“‘It is only when attacked or angered that the animal sends forth his offensive fluid; and when killed suddenly, or before he has had time to “fire it off,” nothing of the kind is perceived upon his carcass.
“‘The skunk is a burrowing animal, and in cold countries he enters his hole, and sleeps in a half-torpid state throughout the winter. In warm climates, however, he continues to prowl about all the year round, generally at night—as, like most predatory creatures, the night is his day. In his burrow, which runs several yards underground, he lives, in company with ten or a dozen of his companions. The female has a nest in one part, made of grass and leaves, where she brings forth her young—having from five to nine kittens at a birth.
“‘Strange as it may appear, the Indians, as well as many white men—hunters and others—eat the flesh of this animal, and pronounce it both savoury and agreeable—equal, as they allege, to the finest roast pig. So much for the skunk and his habits. Now to the making of our salt.’”
Chapter Twenty Three.The Salt Spring.“We had now arrived on the banks of the salt creek; but as we saw the cliff close by, and knew that we must be near the spring which supplied this little rivulet, we resolved to travel on to the fountain-head. A few hundred yards farther brought us to the spring, and it was well worth travelling a little farther to see.“Near the bottom of the cliff were several round objects, looking like half globes, or bowls turned upon their mouths. They were of a whitish colour, resembling white quartz rock; and of all sizes, from that of a large baking oven to the size of a wooden dish. In the top of each there was a round cavity—like a little crater of a volcano—and in this the blue water bubbled and boiled as though a hot fire was in the ground underneath them. There were in all nearly twenty of these, but many of them were without the crater-like cavity in the top; and through the latter, of course, no water escaped to the creek. These were old ones, that had ceased to run.“It was evident that these oven-looking mounds had been formed by the water itself, which had been depositing the sediment that formed them for many, many years. Around some of them there grew beautiful plants and shrubs, whose leaves and flowers hung over, trailing in the water; and from the cliff above long vines crept out, covered with gay scarlet blossoms. Bushes of wild currants grew all around, and the fragrance of their leaves scented the air. It was altogether a sweet, cool spot, and filled us with feelings of enjoyment.“After we had satisfied our curiosity in examining these objects, we prepared to make our salt. Frank and Harry collected armfuls of dry wood for the fire, while Cudjo erected a crane in his usual fashion. Upon this the kettle was suspended, and filled with crystal water out of one of the natural basins. The fire soon blazed under it, and we had nothing more to do than wait until the evaporation should be completed by boiling.“For this purpose we chose a spot where the ground was carpeted with a soft green turf; and upon it we all sat down to wait the result.“I need not say that in this we had a deep interest, amounting, in truth, to anxiety. It might not be salt after all. The water tasted salt—that is true. But so, too, would water impregnated by the sulphate of magnesia or the sulphate of soda. When evaporated we might find one or other of these substances.“‘What is the sulphate of magnesia, papa?’ inquired Frank.“‘Perhaps you would know it better by the name of Epsom salts!’ rejoined his mother, with a knowing smile.“‘Bah!’ returned he, with a grin upon his face, ‘I hope it won’t turn out that. But what sort of thing, then, is the sulphate of soda?’“‘That is the scientific name for Glauber’s salts.’“‘Worse still! I don’t think we stand in need of either. Do we, Harry?’“‘Not a bit of it,’ responded Harry, also grinning at the thought of these well-known specifics. ‘I would rather it should turn out saltpetre and sulphur. Then we could make lots of gunpowder.’“Harry was a great shot—as we have seen—and one of his fears was, that our stock of powder would run out.“‘Do not wish for that, Harry,’ said his mother. ‘Gunpowder we can do very well without. Let us hope for something more necessary to us at present.’“With such-like conversation we passed the time, while we watched the steaming kettle with feelings of anxious expectation.“For myself, I had some reliance upon a fact which I had observed years before, and had regarded as singular. It was this. I believe the Creator has so disposed it, that salt, so essential to animal life, is to be found in all parts of the globe, either in rocks, springs, standing lakes, incrustations, or in the ocean itself. No part of the earth, of great extent, is without it; and I had noticed in the interior territories of the American continent—where the sea is too distant to be visited by animals—that Nature has provided numerous salt springs, or ‘licks,’ as they are termed in the language of the country. These springs from time immemorial have been the meeting-places of the wild creatures of the forest and prairie, who resort thither to drink their waters, or lick the saline soil through which these waters run. Hence their common name of ‘licks.’ Here, then, was a valley whose four-footed inhabitants never roamed beyond its borders. I felt confident that Nature had provided for their wants and cravings by giving them everything necessary to their existence, and, among other necessities, that one which we were now in search of ourselves—salt. In other words, but that this was a salt spring, or there existed some other such in the valley, these creatures would not have been found within it. I took the opportunity to point out this theory to my boys, as well as to show them—what I myself clearly recognised in it—the hand of the Creator. It rendered them confident that, when we had evaporated our water, we should get salt for our pains.“‘Papa,’ inquired Frank, who was a great naturalist, ‘I should like to know what makes this little rivulet run salt water.’“‘No doubt,’ I replied, ‘the water you see gushing forth has just been passing through vast beds or rock-salt, and has become impregnated with it.’“‘Rock-salt! and is the salt we use found in rocks?’“‘Not all of it, though great quantities are. There are beds of rock-salt found in many countries—in England, and the East Indies, in Russia, and Hungary, and Spain; and it has also been discovered in vast quantities in this very Desert we are now dwelling in. These beds of rock-salt, when worked to supply salt, are called salt-mines. The most celebrated are in Poland, near the city of Cracow. These have been worked for seven hundred years; and there is enough left in them to supply all the world for many centuries yet to come. These mines are said to be very beautiful—lit up, as they are, by numerous lamps. The rock has been excavated by the miners into all sorts of shapes. Houses, chapels, columns, obelisks, and many other ornamental forms of buildings, have been made; and these, when illuminated by lamps and torches, appear as splendid and brilliant as the palaces of Aladdin.’“‘Oh! I should like so much to see them!’ cried Harry, in a transport.“‘But, papa,’ inquired Frank, who always sought after information on such subjects, ‘I never saw any of this rock-salt. How is it that it comes to us always crushed, or in great bricks, as if it had been baked? Do they break it fine before it is sent to market from the mines?’“‘In some of these mines nothing more is required than to crush the rock; in others, however, the rock is not pure salt, but mixed with other substances, as oxide of iron and clay. In these cases it is first dissolved in water, to separate it from such impurities, and then evaporated back again into salt, precisely as we are doing now.’“‘What colour is the salt-rock, papa?’“‘When pure it is white; but it assumes various colours, according to what substances may be found mixed with it. It is often yellow, and flesh-coloured, and blue.’“‘How pretty it must be!’ exclaimed Harry; ‘like precious stones, I declare.’“‘Yes, it is a precious stone,’ rejoined his brother; ‘more precious, I take it, than all the diamonds in the world. Is it not, papa?’“‘You are quite right,’ I replied. ‘Salt-rock is more valuable to the human race than diamonds; though they, too, have anabsolutevalue, besides their value as a mere ornament. There are some important uses in arts and manufactures to which they can be applied.’“‘But, papa,’ again inquired Frank, determined to know everything he could about the article of salt, ‘I have heard that salt is made of sea-water. Is it so?’“‘Vast quantities of it.’“‘How is it made?’“‘There are three ways of obtaining it:—First, in warm climates, where the sun is strong, the sea-water is collected into shallow pools, and there left until it is evaporated by the sun’s rays. The ground where these pools are made must neither be muddy nor porous, else the salt would get mixed with the mud and sand. Of course the people who manufacture it in this way take care to choose firm, hard ground for the bottoms of their pools. There are sluices attached to these pools by which any water that may not evaporate is drawn off. Salt is made in this manner in many southern countries—in Spain and Portugal, in France, and other countries that lie around the Mediterranean; also in India, China, Siam, and the island of Ceylon.“‘The second way of making salt from sea-water is precisely the same as that I have described—except that, instead of these artificial pools, the evaporation takes place in broad tracts of country over which the sea has spread in time of high springtides. When the sea falls again to its proper level, it leaves behind it a quantity of water in these tracts, which is evaporated by the sun, leaving behind it fields of pure salt. Nothing remains to be done but to scrape this salt into heaps and cart it off; and at the next spring-tide a fresh influx of sea-water produces a new crop of salt, and so on. This kind is better than that which is made in the artificial pools—though neither of them is equal to the salt of the mines. They are both known in commerce under the name of “bay-salt,” to distinguish them from the “rock-salt” of the mines. Great natural beds of the bay-salt are found in the Cape de Verde islands; also in Turk’s island and Saint Martin’s in the West Indies, and on Kangaroo Island, near the coast of Australia.“‘There is still a third plan of making salt out of the sea. That is, by boiling the water, as we are doing; but this makes the worst of all salt; besides, it is far more expensive to manufacture salt in this way than to buy it from other countries. Indeed, this last plan would never be adopted, were it not that some foolish governments force their people to pay a heavy duty for importing salt into their country, thus making it still cheaper for them, costly as it is, to manufacture the article at home.’“‘What makes the sea salt, papa?’“‘That is one of the phenomena about which naturalists have a difference of opinion. Some of them say there are vast beds of salt at the bottom which keep the water always impregnated. I think this notion is very childish; and they who hold it offer only childish arguments to support it. Others assert that the salt water of the ocean is a primitive fluid—that it was always as it now is—which you will perceive is giving no reason at all, more than saying, “it is salt, because it was salt always.” This is an equally irrational theory. Others, again, believe that the saltness of the ocean is caused by the flowing into it of salt rivers. These, I think, hold the true opinion; but unfortunately they have failed, as far as I know, to answer the objections which have been raised against it. Your papa has reflected a good deal upon this subject, and believes that he can explain away all the difficulties that oppose this last theory. Probably he may take an early opportunity of doing so; but it will require more time than he can spare at present.’“‘Is the sea equally salt at all places?’ inquired the philosopher Frank, after a short pause, during which he had been busily reflecting on what had been said.“‘No; it is more so at the Equator than in the colder regions around the Poles. It is less salt in gulfs and inland seas than in the open ocean. This I believe I can also explain, because it would support the theory regarding the rivers of which we have just spoken. The difference of saltness in different parts of the sea is, however, very trifling.’“‘How much salt is there in the sea-water?’“‘Three and a half per cent nearly. That is, if you boil down one hundred pounds of sea-water, it will yield you about three pounds and a half of salt.’“‘But are there not many lakes and brine-springs that contain a far greater proportion than that?’“‘Many. There is a large lake lying in this very Desert, to the north-west of where we are, called the “Great Salt Lake.” The waters of that lake are more than one-third pure salt. There are many springs and rivers that contain a greater proportion than the ocean itself. It is to be hoped that our own little creek here will yield better than it.—But come! let us see how the kettle boils. We had almost forgotten it.’“We approached our kettle, and lifted the lid. To our great joy, a scum was floating on the top, very much like crystals of ice forming upon half melted snow. Some of it was skimmed off and applied to our lips. Joy! it wassalt—the purechloride of sodium—equal to the best ever shipped from Turk’s Island.”
“We had now arrived on the banks of the salt creek; but as we saw the cliff close by, and knew that we must be near the spring which supplied this little rivulet, we resolved to travel on to the fountain-head. A few hundred yards farther brought us to the spring, and it was well worth travelling a little farther to see.
“Near the bottom of the cliff were several round objects, looking like half globes, or bowls turned upon their mouths. They were of a whitish colour, resembling white quartz rock; and of all sizes, from that of a large baking oven to the size of a wooden dish. In the top of each there was a round cavity—like a little crater of a volcano—and in this the blue water bubbled and boiled as though a hot fire was in the ground underneath them. There were in all nearly twenty of these, but many of them were without the crater-like cavity in the top; and through the latter, of course, no water escaped to the creek. These were old ones, that had ceased to run.
“It was evident that these oven-looking mounds had been formed by the water itself, which had been depositing the sediment that formed them for many, many years. Around some of them there grew beautiful plants and shrubs, whose leaves and flowers hung over, trailing in the water; and from the cliff above long vines crept out, covered with gay scarlet blossoms. Bushes of wild currants grew all around, and the fragrance of their leaves scented the air. It was altogether a sweet, cool spot, and filled us with feelings of enjoyment.
“After we had satisfied our curiosity in examining these objects, we prepared to make our salt. Frank and Harry collected armfuls of dry wood for the fire, while Cudjo erected a crane in his usual fashion. Upon this the kettle was suspended, and filled with crystal water out of one of the natural basins. The fire soon blazed under it, and we had nothing more to do than wait until the evaporation should be completed by boiling.
“For this purpose we chose a spot where the ground was carpeted with a soft green turf; and upon it we all sat down to wait the result.
“I need not say that in this we had a deep interest, amounting, in truth, to anxiety. It might not be salt after all. The water tasted salt—that is true. But so, too, would water impregnated by the sulphate of magnesia or the sulphate of soda. When evaporated we might find one or other of these substances.
“‘What is the sulphate of magnesia, papa?’ inquired Frank.
“‘Perhaps you would know it better by the name of Epsom salts!’ rejoined his mother, with a knowing smile.
“‘Bah!’ returned he, with a grin upon his face, ‘I hope it won’t turn out that. But what sort of thing, then, is the sulphate of soda?’
“‘That is the scientific name for Glauber’s salts.’
“‘Worse still! I don’t think we stand in need of either. Do we, Harry?’
“‘Not a bit of it,’ responded Harry, also grinning at the thought of these well-known specifics. ‘I would rather it should turn out saltpetre and sulphur. Then we could make lots of gunpowder.’
“Harry was a great shot—as we have seen—and one of his fears was, that our stock of powder would run out.
“‘Do not wish for that, Harry,’ said his mother. ‘Gunpowder we can do very well without. Let us hope for something more necessary to us at present.’
“With such-like conversation we passed the time, while we watched the steaming kettle with feelings of anxious expectation.
“For myself, I had some reliance upon a fact which I had observed years before, and had regarded as singular. It was this. I believe the Creator has so disposed it, that salt, so essential to animal life, is to be found in all parts of the globe, either in rocks, springs, standing lakes, incrustations, or in the ocean itself. No part of the earth, of great extent, is without it; and I had noticed in the interior territories of the American continent—where the sea is too distant to be visited by animals—that Nature has provided numerous salt springs, or ‘licks,’ as they are termed in the language of the country. These springs from time immemorial have been the meeting-places of the wild creatures of the forest and prairie, who resort thither to drink their waters, or lick the saline soil through which these waters run. Hence their common name of ‘licks.’ Here, then, was a valley whose four-footed inhabitants never roamed beyond its borders. I felt confident that Nature had provided for their wants and cravings by giving them everything necessary to their existence, and, among other necessities, that one which we were now in search of ourselves—salt. In other words, but that this was a salt spring, or there existed some other such in the valley, these creatures would not have been found within it. I took the opportunity to point out this theory to my boys, as well as to show them—what I myself clearly recognised in it—the hand of the Creator. It rendered them confident that, when we had evaporated our water, we should get salt for our pains.
“‘Papa,’ inquired Frank, who was a great naturalist, ‘I should like to know what makes this little rivulet run salt water.’
“‘No doubt,’ I replied, ‘the water you see gushing forth has just been passing through vast beds or rock-salt, and has become impregnated with it.’
“‘Rock-salt! and is the salt we use found in rocks?’
“‘Not all of it, though great quantities are. There are beds of rock-salt found in many countries—in England, and the East Indies, in Russia, and Hungary, and Spain; and it has also been discovered in vast quantities in this very Desert we are now dwelling in. These beds of rock-salt, when worked to supply salt, are called salt-mines. The most celebrated are in Poland, near the city of Cracow. These have been worked for seven hundred years; and there is enough left in them to supply all the world for many centuries yet to come. These mines are said to be very beautiful—lit up, as they are, by numerous lamps. The rock has been excavated by the miners into all sorts of shapes. Houses, chapels, columns, obelisks, and many other ornamental forms of buildings, have been made; and these, when illuminated by lamps and torches, appear as splendid and brilliant as the palaces of Aladdin.’
“‘Oh! I should like so much to see them!’ cried Harry, in a transport.
“‘But, papa,’ inquired Frank, who always sought after information on such subjects, ‘I never saw any of this rock-salt. How is it that it comes to us always crushed, or in great bricks, as if it had been baked? Do they break it fine before it is sent to market from the mines?’
“‘In some of these mines nothing more is required than to crush the rock; in others, however, the rock is not pure salt, but mixed with other substances, as oxide of iron and clay. In these cases it is first dissolved in water, to separate it from such impurities, and then evaporated back again into salt, precisely as we are doing now.’
“‘What colour is the salt-rock, papa?’
“‘When pure it is white; but it assumes various colours, according to what substances may be found mixed with it. It is often yellow, and flesh-coloured, and blue.’
“‘How pretty it must be!’ exclaimed Harry; ‘like precious stones, I declare.’
“‘Yes, it is a precious stone,’ rejoined his brother; ‘more precious, I take it, than all the diamonds in the world. Is it not, papa?’
“‘You are quite right,’ I replied. ‘Salt-rock is more valuable to the human race than diamonds; though they, too, have anabsolutevalue, besides their value as a mere ornament. There are some important uses in arts and manufactures to which they can be applied.’
“‘But, papa,’ again inquired Frank, determined to know everything he could about the article of salt, ‘I have heard that salt is made of sea-water. Is it so?’
“‘Vast quantities of it.’
“‘How is it made?’
“‘There are three ways of obtaining it:—First, in warm climates, where the sun is strong, the sea-water is collected into shallow pools, and there left until it is evaporated by the sun’s rays. The ground where these pools are made must neither be muddy nor porous, else the salt would get mixed with the mud and sand. Of course the people who manufacture it in this way take care to choose firm, hard ground for the bottoms of their pools. There are sluices attached to these pools by which any water that may not evaporate is drawn off. Salt is made in this manner in many southern countries—in Spain and Portugal, in France, and other countries that lie around the Mediterranean; also in India, China, Siam, and the island of Ceylon.
“‘The second way of making salt from sea-water is precisely the same as that I have described—except that, instead of these artificial pools, the evaporation takes place in broad tracts of country over which the sea has spread in time of high springtides. When the sea falls again to its proper level, it leaves behind it a quantity of water in these tracts, which is evaporated by the sun, leaving behind it fields of pure salt. Nothing remains to be done but to scrape this salt into heaps and cart it off; and at the next spring-tide a fresh influx of sea-water produces a new crop of salt, and so on. This kind is better than that which is made in the artificial pools—though neither of them is equal to the salt of the mines. They are both known in commerce under the name of “bay-salt,” to distinguish them from the “rock-salt” of the mines. Great natural beds of the bay-salt are found in the Cape de Verde islands; also in Turk’s island and Saint Martin’s in the West Indies, and on Kangaroo Island, near the coast of Australia.
“‘There is still a third plan of making salt out of the sea. That is, by boiling the water, as we are doing; but this makes the worst of all salt; besides, it is far more expensive to manufacture salt in this way than to buy it from other countries. Indeed, this last plan would never be adopted, were it not that some foolish governments force their people to pay a heavy duty for importing salt into their country, thus making it still cheaper for them, costly as it is, to manufacture the article at home.’
“‘What makes the sea salt, papa?’
“‘That is one of the phenomena about which naturalists have a difference of opinion. Some of them say there are vast beds of salt at the bottom which keep the water always impregnated. I think this notion is very childish; and they who hold it offer only childish arguments to support it. Others assert that the salt water of the ocean is a primitive fluid—that it was always as it now is—which you will perceive is giving no reason at all, more than saying, “it is salt, because it was salt always.” This is an equally irrational theory. Others, again, believe that the saltness of the ocean is caused by the flowing into it of salt rivers. These, I think, hold the true opinion; but unfortunately they have failed, as far as I know, to answer the objections which have been raised against it. Your papa has reflected a good deal upon this subject, and believes that he can explain away all the difficulties that oppose this last theory. Probably he may take an early opportunity of doing so; but it will require more time than he can spare at present.’
“‘Is the sea equally salt at all places?’ inquired the philosopher Frank, after a short pause, during which he had been busily reflecting on what had been said.
“‘No; it is more so at the Equator than in the colder regions around the Poles. It is less salt in gulfs and inland seas than in the open ocean. This I believe I can also explain, because it would support the theory regarding the rivers of which we have just spoken. The difference of saltness in different parts of the sea is, however, very trifling.’
“‘How much salt is there in the sea-water?’
“‘Three and a half per cent nearly. That is, if you boil down one hundred pounds of sea-water, it will yield you about three pounds and a half of salt.’
“‘But are there not many lakes and brine-springs that contain a far greater proportion than that?’
“‘Many. There is a large lake lying in this very Desert, to the north-west of where we are, called the “Great Salt Lake.” The waters of that lake are more than one-third pure salt. There are many springs and rivers that contain a greater proportion than the ocean itself. It is to be hoped that our own little creek here will yield better than it.—But come! let us see how the kettle boils. We had almost forgotten it.’
“We approached our kettle, and lifted the lid. To our great joy, a scum was floating on the top, very much like crystals of ice forming upon half melted snow. Some of it was skimmed off and applied to our lips. Joy! it wassalt—the purechloride of sodium—equal to the best ever shipped from Turk’s Island.”