plentiful and bloodthirsty that it is impossible to get along
comfortably in their company. But, except in spots where no one would
be likely to live, whether there were mosquitoes there or not, these
insects do not exist in sufficient numbers to cause us to give up our
ordinary style of living and devote all our energies to keeping them
at a distance.
In some other countries, however, the people are not so fortunate. In
Senegal, at certain seasons, the inhabitants are driven from their
habitations by the clouds of mosquitoes which spread over the land,
and are forced to take refuge on high platforms, under which they keep
fires continually burning.
The smoke from these fires will keep away the mosquitoes, but it
cannot be very pleasant to the Senegalians. However, they become used
to it, and during the worst of the mosquito season, they eat, drink,
sleep, and enjoy themselves to the best of their ability on these
platforms, which for the time become their houses.
[Illustration: A SMOKY DWELLING.]
It would probably seem to most of us, that to breathe an atmosphere
constantly filled with smoke, and to have it in our eyes and noses all
the time, would be almost as bad, if not quite, as suffering the
stings of mosquitoes.
But then we do not know anything about Senegalian mosquitoes, and the
accounts which Dr. Livingstone and other travellers give of the
insects in Africa, ought to make us feel pretty sure that these
woolly-headed folks on the platforms know what is good for them.
THE CANNON OF THE PALAIS ROYAL.
[Illustration]
In the Gardens of the Palais Royal, in Paris, there is a little cannon
which stands on a pedestal, and is surrounded by a railing. Every day
it is loaded with powder and wadding, but no one on earth is allowed
to fire it off. However, far away in the realms of space, ninety-three
millions of miles from our world, there is the great and glorious Sun,
and every day, at twelve o'clock, he fires off that little cannon,
provided there are no clouds in the way. Just before noon on bright
days, the people gather around the railing, with their watches in
their hands,--if they are so lucky as to have watches,--and precisely
at twelve o'clock, _bang!_ she goes.
The arrangement which produces this novel artillery-practice is very
simple. A burning-glass is fixed over the cannon in such a manner that
when the sun comes to the meridian--which it does every day at noon,
you know--its rays are concentrated on the touch-hole, and of course
the powder is ignited and the cannon is fired.
Most boys understand the power of a burning-glass, and know how easily
dry grass or tinder, or a piece of paper, may be set on fire by a good
glass when the sun is bright; but they would find it very difficult to
place a glass over a little cannon so that it would infallibly be
discharged at any set hour. And even if they could do it, they would
not be sure of their cannon-clock being _exactly_ right, for the sun
does not keep the very best time. He varies a little, and there is a
difference between solar time and true time. But the sun is always
near enough right for all ordinary intents and purposes.
I know boys--lazy fellows--and some girls of the same sort, for that
matter,--who, if they could, would have, just outside of their
school-doors, one of the largest cannon, which should go off every day
at the very earliest hour at which school would let out, and which
should make such a tremendous report that it would be impossible for
the teacher to overlook the time and keep them in too long.
But if these same boys and girls were putting up a cannon to go off at
the hour when school commenced, they would get such a little one that
it wouldn't frighten a mouse.
WATERS, DEEP AND SHALLOW.
With such a vast subject before us as the waters of our beautiful
world, we must be systematic. So we will at first confine ourselves to
the observation of _pleasant waters_.
[Illustration]
Let us begin at the beginning.
This pretty little spring, with its cool water running day and night
into the old barrel, and then gurgling over the staves, flowing away
among the grass and flowers, is but a trifling thing perhaps, and
might be passed with but little notice by people who have always lived
in cities. But country-folks know how to value a cool, unfailing
spring. In the hot days of summer the thirsty and tired farmer would
rather see that spring than an ice-cream saloon. Yes, even if he has
nothing to drink from but a gourd, which may be lying there among the
stones. He may have a tin-cup with him,--and how shocking! he may
drink out of his hands! But, let him use what he may, he certainly
gets a most delicious drink.
I once knew a little girl who said she could not bear spring-water;
she did not think it was clean, coming out of the ground in that way.
I asked her if she liked well-water; but she thought that was worse
yet, especially when it was hauled up in old buckets. River-water she
would not even consider, for that was too much exposed to all sorts of
dirty things to be fit to drink. I then wished to know what kind of
water she did like, and she answered, readily enough, "hydrant-water."
I don't know where she imagined hydrant-water came from, but she may
have thought it was manufactured, by some clean process, out at the
water-works.
But let us follow this little stream which trickles from the barrel.
We cannot walk by its banks all the time, for it winds so much and
runs through places where the walking is very bad; but let us go
across the fields and walk a mile or two into the woods, and we will
meet with it again. Here it is!
What a fine, tumbling stream it has grown to be now! It is even big
enough to have a bridge over it. It does not always rush so noisily
among the rocks; but this is early summer; there has been plenty of
rain, and the brook is full and strong. Now, then, if this is a trout
country, we ought to have our hooks and lines with us. Among the
eddies of this stream we might find many a nice trout, and if we were
only successful enough to catch some of them after we had found them,
we would be sure of a reward for our walk, even if the beauty of the
scene did not repay us.
But let us go on. This stream does not stop here.
After we have walked a mile or so more, we find that our noisy friend
has quieted down very much indeed. It is a little wider, and it may be
it is a little deeper, but it flows along very placidly between its
low banks. It is doubtful if we should find any trout in it now, but
there may be cat-fish and perch, and some sun-fish and eels.
[Illustration]
And now the stream suddenly spreads out widely. It is a little lake!
No, it is only a mill-pond.
Let us walk around and come out in front of the mill.
How the stream has diminished again!
[Illustration]
As it comes out of the mill-race and joins itself to that portion
which flows over the dam, it is a considerable creek, to be sure, but
it looks very small compared to the mill-pond. But what it wants in
size it makes up in speed, like some little Morgan horses you may have
seen, and it goes rushing along quite rapidly again. Here, now, is a
splendid chance to catch a chub.
If we had some little minnows for bait, and could stand on the bank
there to the left, and throw our lines down into the race, we ought to
be able to hook a chub, if there are any there, and I think it is very
likely that there are. A chub, if he is a good-sized fellow, is a fish
worth catching, even for people who have been fishing for trout. One
big chub will make a meal for a small family.
But let us follow the creek and see what new developments we shall
discover. To be sure, you may say that following up a stream from its
very source involves a great deal of walking; but I can answer with
certainty that a great deal of walking is a very easy thing--in books!
So on we go, and it is not long before we find that our watery friend
has ceased to be a creek, and is quite worthy of being called a fine
young river. But still it is scarcely fit yet for navigation. There
are rocks in the very middle of the stream, and every now and then we
come to a waterfall. But how beautiful some of those cascades are!
What a delightful thing it would be, on a warm summer evening, to
bathe in that deliciously cool water. It is deep enough for a good
swim, and, if any of us want a shower-bath, it would be a splendid
thing to sit on the rocks and let the spray from the fall dash over
us! And there are fish here, I am sure. It is possible that, if we
were to sit quietly on the bank and fish, we might soon get a string
of very nice perch, and there is no knowing what else. This stream is
now just about big enough and little enough to make the character of
its fish doubtful. I have known pike--fellows two feet long--caught in
such streams as this; and then again, in other small rivers, very much
like it, you can catch nothing but cat-fish, roach, and eels.
If we were to follow up our river, we would soon find that it grew
larger and larger, until row-boats and sloops, and then schooners and
perhaps large ships, sailed upon its surface. And at last we might
follow it down to its mouth, and, if it happened to flow into the sea,
we would probably behold a grand scene. Some rivers widen so greatly
near their mouths that it is difficult to believe that they are rivers
at all.
[Illustration]
On the next page we see a river which, at its junction with the ocean,
seems almost like a little sea itself.
[Illustration]
We can hardly credit the fact that such a great river as the Amazon
arose from a little spring, where you might span the body of the
stream with your hand. But, at its source, there is no doubt just such
a little spring. The great trouble, however, with these long rivers,
is to find out where their source really is. There are so many brooks
and smaller rivers flowing into them that it is difficult to determine
the main line. You know that we have never settled that matter in
regard to the Mississippi and Missouri. There are many who maintain
that the source of the Mississippi is to be found at the head of the
Missouri, and that the latter is the main river. But we shall not try
to decide any questions of that sort. We are in quest of pleasant
waters, not difficult questions.
[Illustration: FALLS OF GAVARNI.]
There is no form which water assumes more grand and beautiful than the
cascade or waterfall. And these are of very varied shapes and sizes.
Some of the most beautiful waterfalls depend for their celebrity, not
upon their height, but upon their graceful forms and the scenery by
which they are surrounded, while others, like the cascade of Gavarni,
are renowned principally for their great height.
There we see a comparatively narrow stream, precipitating itself down
the side of an enormous precipice in the Pyrenees. Although it appears
so small to us, it is really a considerable stream, and as it strikes
upon the jutting rocks and dashes off into showers of spray, it is
truly a beautiful sight.
There are other cascades which are noted for a vast volume of water.
Some of these are well known, but there is one, perhaps, of which you
have never heard.
When Dr. Livingstone was travelling in Africa he was asked by some of
the natives if in his country there was any "smoke which sounds." They
assured him that such a thing existed in their neighborhood, although
some of them did not seem to comprehend the nature of it. The Doctor
soon understood that their remarks referred to a waterfall, and so he
took a journey to it. When he came within five or six miles of the
cataract, he saw five columns of smoke arising in the air; but when he
reached the place he found that this was not smoke, but the vapor from
a great fall in the river Zambesi.
These falls are very peculiar, because they plunge into a great abyss,
not more than eighty feet wide, and over three hundred feet deep. Then
the river turns and flows, for many miles, at the bottom of this vast
crack in the earth. Dr. Livingstone thinks these falls are one of the
wonders of the world.
There is no doubt, however, about the king of cataracts. That is
Niagara. If you have seen it you can understand its grandeur, but
you can never appreciate it from a written description. A picture
will give you some idea of it, but not a perfect one, by any means.
[Illustration: FALLS OF ZAMBESI.]
The Indians called these falls "thundering water," and it was an
admirable title. The waters thunder over the great precipice, as they
have done for thousands of years before we were born, and will
continue to do thousands of years after we are dead.
The Falls of Niagara are divided by an island into two portions,
called the Canadian and the American Falls. This island lies nearer to
the United States shore than to that of Canada. Therefore the American
Falls are the smallest. This island is named Goat Island, and you have
a good view of it in the picture.
[Illustration]
It seems as if the resistless torrent would some day tear away this
lonely promontory, as it rushes upon and around it. It is not unlikely
that in the course of ages the island may be carried away.
Even now, portions of it are occasionally torn off by the rush of the
waters.
You can cross over to Goat Island by means of a bridge, and when there
you can go down _under the falls_. Standing in what is called the
"Cave of the Winds," you can look out at a thick curtain of water,
from eighteen to thirty feet thick, pouring down from the rocks above.
This curtain, dark and glittering, is a portion of the great falls.
It is necessary to spend days at Niagara before its grandeur can be
fully appreciated. But we must pass on to other waters, and not tarry
at this glorious cataract until we are carried away by our subject.
We will now look at, for a short time, what may be called _Profitable
Waters_. The waters of the earth are profitable in so many ways that
it would be impossible for us to consider them all. But we will simply
glance at a few scenes, where we can easily perceive what advantages
man derives from the waters, deep or shallow. In our own country there
is no more common method of making a living out of the water than by
fishing with a net.
The men in the picture, when they have hauled their seine to shore,
will probably find as good a reward for their labor as if they had
been working on the land instead of in the river; and if it is shad
for which they are fishing, their profits will probably be greater.
You know that our shad fisheries are very important sources of income
to a great many people. And the oyster fisheries are still more
valuable.
When we mention the subject, of making a living out of the water, we
naturally think first of nets, and hooks and lines. It is true that
mills, and steamships, and packet-lines, and manufactories, are far
more important; but they require capital as well as water. Men fish
all over the world, but on some waters vessels or saw-mills are never
seen.
[Illustration]
The styles of fishing, however, are very various. Here is a company of
Africans, fishing with javelins or spears.
They build a sort of platform or pier out into the river, and on this
they stand, with their spears in their hands, and when a fish is seen
swimming in the water, down comes the sharp-pointed javelin, which
seldom misses him. Then he is drawn upon the platform by means of the
cord which is fastened to the spear. A whole family will go out
fishing in this way, and spend the day on the platform. Some will
spear the fish, while others will clean them, and prepare them for
use. One advantage that this party possesses is, that if any of them
should tumble into the water, they would not get their clothes wet.
[Illustration]
But sometimes it will not do for the fisherman to endeavor to draw up
the treasures of the deep while he remains at the surface of the
water; very often he must go down after them. In this way a great many
of the most valuable fisheries are conducted. For instance, the
sponge-fishers are obliged to dive down to the very bottom of the
water, and tear off the sponges from the rocks to which they fasten
themselves. Some of the most valuable sponge-fisheries are on the
coast of Syria, and you may here see how they carry on their
operations.
[Illustration]
This is a very difficult and distressing business to the divers They
have to remain under the water as long as they can possibly hold their
breath, and very often they are seriously injured by their exertions
in this way. But when we use the sponges we never think of this. And
if we did, what good would it do? All over the world men are to be
found who are perfectly willing to injure their health, provided they
are paid for it.
The pearl-fisheries are quite as disastrous in their effects upon the
divers as those of which we have just been speaking.
The pearl-diver descends by the help of a long rope, to the end of
which is attached a heavy stone. He stands on the stone, holds the
rope with one hand and his nose with the other, and quickly sinks to
the bottom. Then he goes to work, as fast as he can, to fill a net
which hangs from his neck, with the pearl-oysters. When he can stay
down no longer, the net and stone are drawn up by the cord, and he
rises to the surface, often with blood running from his nose and ears.
But then, those who employ them sometimes get an oyster with as fine
pearls as this one contains.
[Illustration]
It is perfectly possible, however, to dive to the bottom of the sea
with very valuable results, without undergoing all this terrible
injury and suffering. In this country and Europe there are men who,
clad in what is called submarine armor, will go to the bottom of a
river, or bay, or the sea,--where it is not very deep--and there walk
about almost as comfortably as if they were on land. Air is supplied
to them by long pipes, which reach to the surface, and these divers
have been made very useful in discovering and removing wrecks,
recovering sunken treasure, and in many other ways.
[Illustration]
For instance, you have a picture of some divers at the bottom of the
port of Marseilles. A box of gold had fallen from a steamship, and the
next day these two men went down after it. They found it, and it was
hauled safely to the surface by means of the ropes which they attached
to it.
You see how strangely they are dressed. An iron helmet, like a great
iron pot, is over each of their heads, and a reservoir, into which the
air is pumped, is on their backs. They can see through little windows
in their masks or helmets, and all they have to do is to walk about
and attend to their business, for men above supply them with a
sufficiency of air for all breathing purposes, by means of an air-pump
and a long flexible tube.
We have not even alluded to many profitable waters; we have said
nothing about those vast seas where the great whale is found, or of
the waters where men catch the valuable little sardine.
We have not mentioned corals, nor said anything about those
cod-fisheries, which are considered of sufficient importance,
sometimes, to go to war about. But these, with many other subjects of
the kind, we must leave unnoticed, while we cast our eyes upon some
_Dangerous Waters_.
We all know that almost any water, if it be a few feet deep, is
dangerous at certain times and under certain conditions.
The creek, which in its deepest parts is not up to your chin, may be
the death of you if you venture upon it in winter, when the ice is
thin, and you break through. Without help, you may be able neither to
swim out or climb out.
But oceans and seas are the waters where danger may nearly always be
expected. The sea may be as smooth as glass, the skies bright, and not
a breath of wind be stirring; or a gentle breeze, just enough to
ripple the water, may send our vessel slowly before it, and in a few
hours the winds may be roaring, the waves dashing into the air, and
the skies dark with storm-clouds.
If we are upon a large and strong steamer, we may perhaps feel safe
enough among the raging waves; but if our vessel be a fishing-boat, or
a small pleasure-craft, we have good reason to be afraid Yet many a
little sloop like this rides bravely and safely through the storms.
But many other little vessels, as strong and as well steered, go to
the bottom of the ocean every year. If the sailor escapes severe
storms, or sails in a vessel which is so stout and ably managed as to
bid defiance to the angry waves, he has other dangers in his path. He
may, for instance, meet with icebergs. If the weather is clear and the
wind favorable, he need not fear these floating mountains of ice. But
if it be night, or foggy, and he cannot see them, or if, in spite of
all his endeavors, the wind drives him down upon them, then is his
vessel lost, and, in all probability, the lives of all upon it.
Sometimes, however, the passengers and crew may escape in boats, and
instances have been related where they have taken refuge on the
iceberg itself, remaining there until rescued by a passing ship.
[Illustration]
But, be the weather fair or foul, a ship is generally quick to leave
the company of so dangerous a neighbor as an iceberg. Sometimes great
masses of ice take a notion to topple over, and, looking at the matter
in what light you please, I think that they are not to be trusted.
Then there is the hurricane!
A large ship may bravely dare the dangers of an ordinary storm, but
nothing that floats on the surface of the water can be safe when a
whirlwind passes over the sea, driving everything straight before it
Great ships are tossed about like playthings, and strong masts are
snapped off as if they had been made of glass.
[Illustration]
If a ship is then near a coast, her crew is seldom able, if the wind
blows towards the land, to prevent her from being dashed upon the
rocks; and if she is out upon the open sea, she is often utterly
disabled and swallowed up by the waves.
I have known boys who thought that it would be perfectly delightful
to be shipwrecked. They felt certain that they would be cast (very
gently, no doubt) upon a desert island, and there they would find
everything that they needed to support life and make them comfortable;
and what they did not get there they would obtain from the wreck of
the ship, which would be lying on the rocks, at a convenient distance
from the shore. And once on that island, they would be their own
masters, and would not have to go to school or do anything which did
not please them.
[Illustration]
This is the good old Robinson Crusoe idea, which at one time or
another runs in the mind of nearly every boy, and many girls, too, I
expect; but a real shipwreck is never desired the second time by any
person who has experienced one.
Sometimes, even when the crew think that they have safely battled
through the storm, and have anchored in a secure place, the waves
dash upon the vessel with such force that the anchor drags, the masts
go by the board, and the great ship, with the hundreds of pale faces
that crowd her deck, is dashed on the great rocks which loom up in the
distance.
[Illustration]
Among other dangers of the ocean are those great tidal waves, which
often follow or accompany earthquakes, and which are almost as
disastrous to those living upon the sea-coast as to those in ships.
Towns have been nearly destroyed by them, hundreds of people drowned,
and great ships swept upon the land, and left there high and dry. In
tropical latitudes these tremendous upheavals of the ocean appear to
be most common, but they are known in all regions which are subject to
serious shocks of earthquakes.
[Illustration]
Waterspouts are other terrible enemies of the sailor. These, however
dangerous they may be when they approach a ship, are not very common,
and it is said that they may sometimes be entirely dispersed by firing
a cannon-ball into the midst of the column of water. This statement
is rather doubtful, for many instances have been related where the
ball went directly through the water-spout without any effect except
to scatter the spray in every direction. I have no doubt that sailors
always keep as far away from water-spouts as they can, and place very
little reliance on their artillery for their safety.
And now, have you had enough water?
We have seen how the waters of the earth may be enjoyed, how they may
be made profitable to us, and when we should beware of them.
[Illustration]