The thermal waters of Algeria are, however, surpassed in grandeur and

beauty by the springs of the ancient Ionian city of Hierapolis (holy

city), which at the present time flow in the solitary plateau called

Panbouk-Kelessi (Castle of Cotton), on account of the cotton-like

aspect of the white masses of travertin of which it is composed. On

reaching this spot from Smyrna, something like an immense cataract

may be seen in the distance, 328 feet high and 2½ miles wide; this

is formed by the walls which the water has gradually constructed,

column after column, and layer after layer, by flowing over the

edges of the plateau and gushing out on the slopes. Here and there,

real cascades glitter in the sun, and their sparkling surfaces

light up the dead whiteness of the crystal walls. As a spectator

ascends the declivities, the masses deposited and carved out by the

water appear in all their strange beauty; one might fancy that they

were colonnades, groups of figures, and rude bas-reliefs which the

chisel had not yet perfectly set free from their rough coverings of

stone. And all these calcareous deposits which have been fashioned

by the cascades during a succession of ages open a multitude of

cup-like hollows with fluted edges fringed with stalactites; these

graceful reservoirs--some of which are shaded with yellow or veined

with red, brown, and violet, like jasper or agate--are filled with

pure water. Higher still follow two steps of the plateau on which

stood the ancient thermal edifice and the Necropolis of Hierapolis.

There whitish masses cover the ancient tombstones and fill up the

conduits. The ground is crossed in various directions by the former

beds of rivulets, which have gradually stopped up their own courses

by depositing concretions upon them. Above one of the widest of

these dried-up channels, the magnificent span of a natural bridge

displays its graceful form, like an arch of alabaster, streaming with

innumerable stalactites. At what date did this majestic structure

take its rise, and how many years and centuries did the process of

its formation last? No one knows. According to Strabo, the channels

of the baths of Hierapolis were soon filled up by solid masses, and

if Vitruvius can be believed, when the proprietors of the environs

wished to inclose their domain, they caused a current of water to run

along the boundary-line, and in the space of a year the walls had

risen.

Silica, which is still more important than chalk in the formation

of terrestrial rocks, is also sometimes deposited on the edge of

springs, but in very small quantities.

The various dislocations of the terrestrial strata, the cooling of

the waters, and, perhaps, in many instances, the obstruction of

channels by deposits of ore, explain why, in the present period,

so small a number of thermal springs issue from metalliferous

beds. Nevertheless, many localities might be mentioned where these

phenomena take place at the present time. A spring at Badenweiler,

in the Black Forest, issues forth at a few yards from a vein of

sulphuret of lead. In the granitic plateau of central France other

springs are likewise found to be associated with this metal. Various

thermal waters in the Black Forest, like those of Carlsbad and

Marienbad, are in close connection with veins of iron and manganese.

Oligiste iron is found in the fissures of the springs of Plombières

and Chaude-Fontaine. In Tuscany sulphureous fumaroles proceed from

the veins of antimony. In France and Algeria the waters of Sylvanès

and Hammam R’ira issue forth from beds of copper. Lastly, near

Freyberg, a voluminous thermal spring has been discovered in a vein

of silver.

Among the mineral substances which some springs bring to the surface

of the soil, the most important, in an economical point of view, is

common salt. This substance, being one of those which dissolve most

readily in water, all the liquid veins which pass over saline beds

become saturated with salt; therefore springs of this kind, which

flow in great abundance, give rise to salt-works of more or less

importance. The masses of common salt which make their way every

year from the interior of the earth may be estimated at thousands

of tons. The springs of Halle, which rise on the northern slope of

the Alps of Salzburg (Salt Town), and are managed with the greatest

care, annually produce 15,000 tons of this mineral. The salt springs

of Halle, in Prussia, which have been worked from time immemorial by

a company, furnish 10,000 tons of salt every year. Other parts of

Germany also yield for consumption thousands of tons of white salt,

which is produced by the evaporation of saline springs. The mass

of salt furnished by the single artesian well of Neusalzwerk, near

Minden, in Prussia, represents every year a cube measuring 78 feet on

each side.

Though not so rich as Germany in saline springs thus turned to

account, most of the civilized countries of the world possess

salt-works which are also very important. France enjoys the springs

of Dieuze, Salins, and Salies; Switzerland, those of Bex; Italy has

the springs in the environs of Modena, and many others besides. In

England, near Chester, there are some mines of rock-salt in which

numerous liquid veins issue forth which are impregnated with salt.

Lastly, the United States have the celebrated springs of Syracuse.

Not far from the “spot where Troy once stood” is the valley of

Touzla-sou, which owes its name (Salt Water) to its numerous salt

springs. The mountains which rise around its circumference are

variously shaded with blue, red, and yellow, and the rocks are

incessantly decomposing under the action of the liquid salt which

oozes out from and trickles down their sides. The plain itself

is covered with a variegated crust, while jets of boiling water,

saturated with salt, burst forth in every direction. Here and there

pools are found, the moisture of which, by evaporating in the sun,

leaves upon the soil beds of salt as white as snow. Near the mouth

of the valley springs become more and more numerous. Lastly, in

the place where the cliffs approach near together, so as to form a

defile, a magnificent spout of water jets out from one side of the

rock. This jet is not less than a foot in diameter at the orifice,

and falls again after having described a parabola of more than a

yard and a half. Other springs shoot out on both sides, the constant

temperature of which is more than 212° (Fahr.); these, together with

the principal jet, form a rivulet of boiling and steaming water.

Springs of salt water are used for the treatment of diseases as

well as for the extraction of salt. They constitute one of the most

important groups of medicinal waters, according to the various

substances which they contain in solution. The other springs made

use of, on account of their healing virtues, have been classed under

ferruginous, sulphureous, and acidulous springs. These waters also

contain, in different proportions, a variable quantity of gases and

salts which they have dissolved in their passage over subterranean

beds of every kind.

Mineral springs are most numerous and abundant in mountain valleys,

and there, consequently, the great thermal institutions are

established. In Europe the chain of the Pyrenees is probably the

richest in mineral, sulphureous, saline, ferruginous, and acidulous

springs. According to Francis, the engineer, in 1860 more than 550

mineral springs, 187 of which are used, flowed upon the French

slopes of the Pyrenees. These waters supplied 83 hot baths in 53

localities, the principal of which are Bagnères de Bigorre, Luchon,

Eaux-Bonnes, and Cauterets. The most abundant springs, those of Graus

d’Olette, form a sort of mineral stream, yielding more than four

gallons a second, or 2,322 cubic yards a day. In Algeria the spring

of Hammam-Mes Khoutine yields 6 gallons a second.

There are regions, some volcanic and some not, in which nearly all

the springs are thermal and mineral; springs of pure and fresh

water being so rare, they are there considered to be most precious

treasures. One of these regions comprehends a large part of the

plateau of Utah. In this place numerous thermal springs issue forth,

to which have been given the vulgar names of the Beer, Steamboat,

Whistle Springs, etc., and into one of which the Mormons plunge their

neophytes. The springs which are not thermal are loaded with saline

and calcareous matter. It is only in spring, at the time when the

snow melts, that the springs, which then become very abundant, yield

comparatively pure water. During the dry season, salt and carbonate

of lime become concentrated in the nearly exhausted springs, and give

to the liquid flow an unpalatable taste. Palgrave, the traveler,

informs us that all the springs of the country of Hasa, in Arabia,

are also thermal.

It can readily be understood that when all these substances escape

from the interior of the rocks, together with the water which holds

them in solution, they must leave empty spaces in the earth. During

the course of long centuries whole strata are dissolved, and, under

a form more or less chemically modified, are brought up from the

depths and distributed on the surface of the soil. The thermal waters

of Bath, which are far from being remarkable for the proportion of

mineral substances they contain, bring to the surface of the earth

an annual amount of sulphates of lime and soda, and chlorides of

sodium and magnesium, the cubic mass of which is not less than 554

cubic yards. It has also been calculated that one of the springs of

Louèche, that of Saint Laurent, brings every year to the surface

8,822,400 pounds of gypsum, or about 2,122 cubic yards; this quantity

is enough to lower a bed of gypsum a square mile in extent, more than

five feet in one century. But this is only one spring, and we have

reckoned one century only; if we think of the thousands of mineral

springs which gush from the soil, and of the immensity of time during

which their waters have flowed, some idea may be formed of the

importance of the alterations caused by springs. In time they lower

the whole mass of mountains, and, no doubt, after these sinkings,

violent oscillations of the earth may often have taken place.

In regions where the strata are pierced with wide and deep caverns,

and especially in calcareous countries, the waters sometimes

accumulate in sufficient quantities to form perfect streams with

long subterranean courses. At their issue from the caverns, these

waters form a contrast with the rocks and hills around, all the more

striking because the latter are completely devoid of moisture, and

fearfully sterile, while on the brink of the limpid stream the fresh

verdure of plants and trees is at once developed. Like a captive,

joyous at seeing the light once more, the water which shoots forth

from the sombre grotto of rocks sparkles in the sun, and careers

along with a light murmur between its flowery banks.

Among these subterranean streams, the most celebrated, and doubtless

one of the most beautiful, is the Sorgues of Vaucluse. The vaulted

grotto from which the mighty mass of water escapes opens at the mouth

of an amphitheatre of calcareous rocks with perpendicular sides.

Above the spring rises a high white cliff, bearing on its summit

a ruined tower of the Middle Ages; the rock is everywhere sterile

and bare; there is nothing but a miserable fig-tree, clinging to

the stone like a parasitical plant to the bark of a tree, which has

plunged its roots into the fissure of the cave, and greedily absorbs

with its leaves the moisture which floats like a mist above the

cascades of the spring. After heavy rains, the liquid mass, which is

then estimated at 26 or even 32 cubic yards a second, flows in a wide

sheet high above the entrance to the cavern, which is then altogether

inaccessible. When the waters are low, they flow bubbling across the

barrier of rocky débris which obstructs the entrance; at that time

it is quite possible to penetrate under the arch, and to contemplate

the vast basin in which the blue waters of the subterranean stream

spread out before they leap into the open air. Soon after its issue

from the cave and amphitheatre of Vaucluse, the Sorgues is divided

into numerous irrigation channels, which spread fertility in the

country over an area of more than 77 square miles. The subterranean

course of the affluents which form the stream is not ascertained; but

it is known that most of them commence 12 or 15 miles to the east,

in the plateaus of Saint Christol and Lagarde, which are pierced all

over with _avens_ or chasms, into which the rain-water sinks and

disappears.

In another part of France there is a second important subterranean

stream, which is much less known but no less remarkable than that of

Vaucluse; this is the Touvre of Angoulême, continuing the course of

the Bandiat, the waters of which, like those of the Tardoire, are

swallowed up in several abysses at distances varying from 3 to 7

miles to the east and northeast. The three principal springs of the

Touvre flow slowly out of a deep cave, hollowed out at the base of

an escarped cliff; another spring bubbles up in a basin of rock; the

third emerges from a sort of boggy meadow intersected by drains. At

the outlet of their subterranean courses these three enormous springs

immediately form three streams, which reunite, leaving between them

two long peninsulas of reeds and other aquatic plants. Below the

junction, the Touvre, which is here more than 100 yards wide, passes

round a rugged hill, and, dividing into several branches, turns

the numerous mill-wheels of the important gun-foundry of Ruelle;

then, after a course of five miles, it flows into the Charente at a

small distance above Angoulême. Among the hundreds and thousands of

travelers whom steam annually conveys over the bridge of the Touvre,

there are few who are aware of the curious nature of the source of

the river of limpid water over which the train passes in its noisy

career.

Omitting to mention the streams which accidentally pass under the

strata of rocks during a small part of their course, or of the

subterranean outlets of certain lakes, a multitude of other instances

might be brought forward of masses of water, more or less abundant,

which appear above ground after having traversed a considerable

distance under the earth. Of this kind is the graceful spring of

Nîmes, the blue transparent water of which, reflecting the foliage

of pines and chestnut trees, glides in its gentle ripples over the

semicircular steps of an old Roman staircase. Of this kind, too, is

the spring of Vénéran, near Saintes: this spring, which was formerly

sacred to the Goddess of Love, gushes from the ground in a gorge of

rocks, and, passing through a mill, the wheel of which it turns, it

suddenly disappears, being swallowed up in an abyss; thus it appears

on the earth to work but for an instant.

Numbers of water-courses do not reappear on the surface of the soil

after being swallowed up in the earth, but flow straight to the sea

by means of subterranean channels. On nearly the whole extent of the

continental shores, and principally in localities where the coasts

are of a calcareous nature, the outlets of submarine tributaries may

be noticed, some of which are perfect rivers. Most of the springs of

the department of Bouches du Rhone jet up from the bottom of the sea,

but at various distances from the shore. One of them, that of Porte

Miou, near Cassis, forms on the surface of the sea a considerable

current, which drifts any floating bodies to a great distance.

At Saint Nazaire, Ciotat, Cannes, San Remo, and Spezzia, other

streams also issue from the midst of the salt waves, and attempts

have even been made to measure approximately their discharge. M.

Villeneuve-Flayosc estimates at 24 cubic yards a second the quantity

of water discharged into the sea by all the hidden affluents of the

Mediterranean between Nice and Genoa. Some of the submarine springs

of Provence and Liguria proceed from enormous depths. The orifice of

the spring of Cannes is 531 feet below the level of the sea; that of

San Remo rises from a depth of 954 feet; lastly, at four miles to

the south of Cape Saint Martin, between Monaco and Mentone, another

stream of fresh water empties itself under a bed of salt water, near

2,296 feet deep.

The coasts of Algeria, Istria, Dalmatia, and the Herzegovina also

present numerous instances of submarine streams; on the eastern

shores of the Adriatic the traveler may even have the pleasure of

contemplating the delta of a considerable river, the Trebintchitza,

visible through the sea-water at the depth of a yard. The abundant

springs of fresh water which pour out into the open sea to the

southwest of the Cuban port of Batabano are well known, since

Humboldt described them, and it is observed that the lamantins,

or sea-cows, which dread salt water, delight in frequenting these

parts. Lastly, the Red Sea, which does not throughout its immense

circumference receive a single permanent stream flowing on the

surface of the ground, nevertheless receives some which spring

from the bottom of its bed. The shores of the United States, the

calcareous soil of which is probably pierced with caverns from the

very centre of the continent, perhaps are the coasts which pour into

the sea the most abundant subterranean rivers. Near the mouth of the

stream of St. John, a submarine stream of perfectly pure water spouts

in bubbles as far as one to two yards above the level of the sea.

Off the Carolinas, and Florida, salt water has been known to change

into brackish water under the influence of the sudden increase of its

subterranean affluents. In the month of January, 1857, all that part

of the sea which is adjacent to the southern point of Florida was

the scene of an immense eruption of fresh water. Muddy and yellowish

water furrowed the straits, and myriads of dead fish floated on the

surface and accumulated on the shores. Even in the open sea the

saltness diminished by one-half, and in some places the fishermen

drew their drinking-water from the surface of the sea as if from

a well. It is affirmed by all those who witnessed this remarkable

inundation of the subterranean river that, during more than a month,

it discharged at least as much water as the Mississippi itself, and

spread over all the strait, 31 miles wide, which separates Key West

from Florida.

On the coasts of Yucatan, the fresh waters which take a subterranean

course down to the sea do not appear to flow like rivers which have a

narrow bed and attain considerable speed, but more in the form of a

wide sheet of liquid with a nearly imperceptible current. _Cenotes_

open here and there over the surface of the country; they are a

kind of natural draining-well or hole, not very deep, into which

the inhabitants descend to draw spring water. At Merida and in the

environs the subterranean water is found at a depth of 26 to 30 feet;

but the nearer we approach to the sea the thinner the layer of rock

becomes which covers the liquid veins; on the seashore fresh water

is found nearly on a level with the soil. The height of the veins

varies several inches, according to the quantity of rain; but in

every season the mass of water descending from the plateau of Yucatan

is poured into the sea through innumerable outlets. Over a great

extent of the shore of the peninsula, these hidden springs furnish

collectively a mass sufficiently large to counterpoise the waters of

the sea. Under the pressure of the marine current which runs along

the coast, there is formed, between the open sea and the liquid mass

which has made its way from the land, a littoral bank like those

barriers which the waves construct before the mouths of rivers. This

embankment, which protects the coasts of Yucatan like a breakwater,

is not less than 171 miles long, and is cut through by the sea at

two or three points. The channel, which stretches like a wide river

between the bank of alluvium and the Yucatan coast, is, not without

reason, designated by the inhabitants by the name of stream or _rio_.

Among the remarkable phenomena which perhaps owe their existence to

subterranean water-courses, we must mention the sudden or gradual

appearance of those hillocks of clay (“mud-lumps”) which rise, to

the great danger of navigators, either in the middle of the bar of

the Mississippi, or in the immediate vicinity. Like small volcanoes

of mud, the “mud-lumps” generally appear under the form of isolated

cones, allowing a rill of dirty water to escape from their summits.

Some of them are irregular on their surface, on which lateral

orifices here and there show themselves, some in full activity,

others abandoned by the springs which formerly gushed from them. The

water of some “mud-lumps” is loaded with oxide of iron or carbonate

of lime, which, with the agglutinated sands, form hard masses, having

the consistence of perfect rocks. These hillocks vary both in their

height and shape. The greater part remain hidden at the bottom of the

water, and even their summits do not reach the level of the river

or sea; others hardly raise their heads above the waves; the most

considerable, however, rise to a height of 6, 9, or even 19 feet, and

their base covers an area of several acres. The sudden way in which

most of these water-volcanoes make their appearance, the anchors of

vessels, and the remains of cargoes which have been found on their

surface, their conical form, their terminal craters, and all the

springs, “which seem to spout out as if from a subterranean sieve,”

indicate the existence of a subterranean force always at work to

upheave this band of hillocks.

M. Thomassy is of opinion that the hillocks of these bars are the

orifices of regular artesian wells naturally formed by a sheet of

subterranean water descending from the plateaus of the interior and

flowing below the Mississippi and the clayey levels of Louisiana.

However this may be, the mode in which these mud hillocks are formed

is well enough known to render it easy to clear them away from the

mouths of the Mississippi and to protect the interests of navigation.

When a cone of clay makes its appearance on the bar, a charge of

powder is introduced into it and explodes it. Thus, in the year 1858,

the southwest passage was cleared of a “mud-lump” which formed a

considerable island; a single charge was sufficient to annihilate

the whole. The island suddenly sunk; in its place a wide depression

was formed, the circumference of which resembled that of a volcanic

crater; at the same time an enormous quantity of hydrogen gas was

discharged into the atmosphere.

Above the springs the course of subterranean rivulets is generally

indicated by a series of chasms or natural wells, which disclose

the stream beneath. The arches of caves not being always strong

enough to support the weight of the superincumbent masses, they

necessarily fall in some places, leaving above them other spaces

into which the upper beds successively sink. The débris of the ruin

is afterward cleared away by the water, or dissolved, atom by atom,

by the carbonic acid contained in the stream, and gradually all the

loose rubbish is carried away. In this manner, above the subterranean

rivulets, a kind of well is formed, which is designated in various

countries by very different names.

By means of these natural gulfs it is possible to reach the

subterranean streams, and to give some account of their system, which

is exactly like that of rivulets and rivers flowing in the open air.

These streams also have their cascades, their windings, and their

islands; they also erode or cover with alluvium the rocks which

compose their bed, and they are subject to all the fluctuations of

high and low water. The only important difference which superficial

waters and subterranean currents present in their phenomena is that

these streams in some places fill the whole section of the cave, and

are thus kept back by the upper sides, which compress the liquid

mass. In fact, the spaces hollowed out by the waters in the interior

of the earth are only in a few places formed into regular avenues,

which might be compared to our railway tunnels. Where beds of hard

stone oppose the flow of the rivulet, all it has done during the

course of centuries has been to hew out one narrow aperture. This

succession of widenings and contractions, similar to those of the

valleys on the surface, forms a series of chambers, separated one

from the other by partitions of rock. The water spreads widely in

large cavities, then, contracting its stream, rushes through each

defile as if through a sluice.

The story of the universe. Volume 2 (of 4) · 第 11 / 28 段