The Desert Home: The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness

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 an absolute value, 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 was salt– the pure chloride of sodium– equal to the best ever shipped from Turk’s Island.”

Chapter Twenty Four.
The Battle of the Snakes

“I need not tell you that the announcement was received with joyful acclamations; and that one and all satisfied themselves by tasting of the salt. It had crystallised into small cubes, as salt always does; and it was as white as snow, which proved its great purity. We had put into the kettle – which was a large camp-kettle – about four gallons of water, and when it was fully evaporated, we obtained not less than ten pints of salt, showing that the water of our spring was much more saline than the sea itself.

“When our first kettle-full was disposed of, we re-filled it with water, and again hung it over the fire. We also hung another vessel beside the kettle; and that was our frying-pan, in which several fine steaks of venison, seasoned with the new salt, were cooked for our dinner. We were not unmindful of the thanks which we owed to God for giving us this munificent supply of an article so much needed by us; and as soon as dinner was over, my wife took occasion to bring this subject pointedly forward and we sat for some time conversing upon it.

“All at once we were interrupted by a series of curious incidents, which took place within sight of our fire. Our attention was first drawn to them by hearing loud screams at a short distance from us, which we all recognised as the voice of the blue-jay. There is nothing unusual in hearing this bird screaming half the day – for it is, perhaps, more easily excited than any other feathered creature. But, if you have ever noticed, it utters a very peculiar cry when there’s something unusual ‘in the wind.’ When some much-dreaded enemy is at hand, its note becomes extremely shrill and disagreeable. So it was then; and for that reason it drew my attention, as well as that of my companions.

“We looked towards the spot whence the cry came. We could see the branches of a low tree in motion, and the beautiful sky-blue wings of the bird closing and spreading again as it fluttered through them. We could see nothing else upon the tree – that is, no enemy of the bird – nor on any of the trees near it. On lowering our eyes to the ground, however, we perceived at once what had set the jay to scolding. Slowly drawing itself along the earth, gliding through the grass and over the dry leaves – without causing even the driest of them to rustle – went a hideous reptile – a snake. Its yellowish body, dappled with black blotches, glittered as the sun glanced from its lubricated scales; while it rose and fell in wavy undulations as it moved. It moved slowly – by vertical sinuosities, almost in a direct line, with its head slightly raised from the grass. At intervals, it stopped – elevated its neck – lowered its flat coffin-shaped head, like a feeding swan – gently oscillated it in a horizontal direction – touched the crisp leaves with its red tongue, as though it was feeling for a trail– and then moved on again. In its frequent pauses, as it lay stretched along the ground it appeared cylindrical, as long as the tallest man, and as thick as a man’s fore-arm. Its tail ended in a horny appendage about a foot in length, and resembling a string of large yellowish ill-shaped beads, or a portion of its own vertebrae stripped of the flesh, this peculiarity told us its species. We saw before us the dreaded rattlesnake – the crotalus horridus.

“My companions were eager to rush forward and at once attack the monster. I restrained them, dogs and all. I had heard – who has not? – of the power of fascination which these reptiles possess. I knew not whether to believe or disbelieve it. Here was an opportunity to test its truth. Would it charm the bird? We should see. One and all of us remained motionless and silent. The snake crawled on.

“The bird followed over-head, pitching itself from branch to branch, from tree to tree, screaming with open throat. Neither of them noticed us, as we were partially concealed where we sat.

“On reaching the foot of a tall magnolia, the rattlesnake – after going once round the tree, and apparently smelling the bark – slowly and carefully wound itself into a spiral coil, close in to the trunk. Its body now presented the appearance of a speckled and glittering cable, as they are usually coiled on the deck of a ship. The tail with its horny appendage protruded beneath, and the flat head peeped over above, resting upon the uppermost ring of the body. The nictitating membrane was drawn over its eyes. It appeared to sleep. This I thought strange, as I had heard that the fascinating power of these creatures lay in the eyes. It soon became evident, how ever, that the bird was not its object; for the latter, on seeing that the snake lay still, ceased its chattering and flew off into the woods.

“Believing that the interest of the scene was now over, I was about raising my rifle to take aim at the snake, when a motion on its part convinced me that it was not asleep, but watching. Watching for what? A squirrel, perhaps, for this is the creature’s favourite prey. I looked up into the tree. It had all the appearance of being what is termed a ‘squirrel-tree’ – that is, a tree in which squirrels have their nest. Ha! just as I expected – there was a hole in the trunk, high up; and around its orifice the bark was slightly discoloured, evidently by the paws of the squirrels passing in and out. Moreover, on looking to the ground again, I perceived that a little beaten path, like a rat-track, led off through the grass. A ridge-like protuberance that projected from the foot of the tree – marking the direction of one of its great roots – ran right into this path; and, from the discoloration of the bark above it, it was evident that the squirrels usually climbed up or descended along this ridge. The rattlesnake was coiled beside it – so close that no animal could pass in that way without coming within his reach! I felt certain, then, that he was waiting for the descent of the squirrel; and desirous to see what should happen, I muttered some words of caution to my companions, who remained silent as before.

“We sat watching the hole, in expectation to see the squirrel come forth. At length, a little rat-shaped head peeped cautiously out; but in this position the animal remained, and did not seem inclined to trust itself beyond the mouth of its den. It was evidently observing us – which it could easily do from its elevated position – and had no intention of coming down.

“We were about giving up all hopes of witnessing a ‘scene,’ when our attention was drawn to a rustling among the dead leaves in the woods beyond. We looked in that direction. Another squirrel was running toward the tree. It was running at full speed, – now along the fallen logs, now through the grass and dry leaves – apparently pursued. It was pursued; for almost at the same instant its pursuer came in sight – an animal with a long, slender body, twice the length of the squirrel itself, and of a bright yellow colour. It was the pine-weasel.

“There were not twenty feet between them as they ran; and both were doing their best.

“I cast a glance at the rattlesnake. He knew what was coming. His jaws were extended – the lower one drawn back until it touched his throat, – his poisoned fangs were naked and visible; his tongue was protruded forward; his eyes glanced like diamonds; and his whole body rose and fell as with a quick respiration. He seemed to have dilated himself to twice his natural size!

“The squirrel, looking only behind, ran for the tree, and, like a streak of light, passed along the ridge and upward. We saw the snake launch out his head as the other passed him; but so quick had been the action, that it did not seem that he had even touched it.

“‘Good!’ thought we, as we saw the little squirrel sweep up the trunk, and fancied that it was safe. Before it had reached the first fork, however, we observed that it climbed more slowly – then faltered – then stopped altogether. Its hind feet slipped from the bark; its body oscillated a moment, hanging by the fore-claws, and then dropped heavily back into the very jaws of the serpent!

“The weasel, on seeing the snake, had suddenly stopped a few feet from it; and now ran around, doubling its long worm-like body, and occasionally standing erect, – all the while spitting and snarling like an angry cat. It was evidently furious at being robbed of its prey; and we thought for awhile it was going to give battle to the snake, which had re-coiled himself on seeing this enemy, and lay with open jaws awaiting the attack. The body of the squirrel – now quite dead – was close up to his coil, so that the other could not snatch it without coming within reach of his dangerous fangs.

“On seeing this, and evidently afraid to encounter such a terrible antagonist, the weasel, after a while, ceased its hostile demonstrations; and, turning to one side, bounded off into the woods.

“The reptile now leisurely uncoiled the upper half of his body; and, stretching out his neck toward the squirrel, prepared to swallow it. He drew the animal out to its full length along the ground, so that its head lay towards him. He evidently purposed swallowing the head first – in order to take it ‘with the grain’ – and he commenced lubricating it with the saliva that ran from his forked tongue.

“While we sat watching this curious operation, our attention was attracted to a movement in the leaves over the spot where the snake lay. Directly above him, at a height of twenty or more feet, a huge liana, of the trumpet species, stretched across from tree to tree. It was full as thick as a man’s arm, and covered with green leaves and large crimson cuneiform blossoms, such as belonged to itself. There were other blossoms mingling with these, for still other parasites – smaller ones – were twined around it; and we could distinguish the beautiful star-like flowers of the cypress vine. Among these an object was in motion – a living object – a body – the body of a great snake, nearly as thick as the liana itself.

“Another rattlesnake! No; the rattlesnake is not a tree-climber, – it could not be that. Besides, the colour of the one upon the vine was entirely different. It was of a uniform black all over – smooth and glittering. It was the black snake then – the ‘constrictor’ of the north.

“When we first noticed it, it was wound upon the liana in spiral rings, like the worm of a gigantic screw. We saw that it was slowly gliding downward – for the vine tended diagonally from tree to tree, and its lowest end impinged upon the trunk of the magnolia, about twenty feet from the ground.

“On reaching this point, the snake gradually drew its rings closer together – until they appeared to touch each other, lapping the liana. It then commenced unwinding itself, by the head, which was slowly circled backward around the vine – still, however, creasing closely along it. After a sufficient number of evolutions, the rings had completely disappeared – with the exception of one or two near the tail – and the reptile lay doubled along the liana. These manoeuvres were executed silently and with great caution; and it now seemed to pause, and survey what was going on below.

“During all this while, the rattlesnake had been busily engaged with the squirrel, and thought of nothing else. After licking the latter to his satisfaction, he extended his purple jaws, drew in the head of his victim, and, stretching his long body to its full extent, proceeded to swallow it, tail and all. In a few seconds, the head and shoulders of the squirrel had disappeared.

“But the glutton was suddenly interrupted in his meal; for, at this moment, we observed the black snake gradually lower himself from the liana, until nothing remained upon the tree but a single loop of his prehensile tail; and his long body stretching downward, hung directly over the other.

“‘Surely,’ thought we, ‘he is not going to encounter the rattlesnake – the most terrible of all reptiles.’ But the constrictor understood one chapter of herpetology better than we – for the next moment we saw him drop to the ground; and, almost as quick as thought, appear lapped in sable folds around the speckled body of the ‘crotalus!’

“It was a singular sight to see those two creatures writhing and wriggling over the grass; and it was some time before we could tell how they battled with each other. There was no great difference between them, in point of size. The black snake was longer – by a foot or so – but much more slender in the body, than his antagonist. He possessed, however, an advantage that soon made itself apparent – his activity, which was ten times that of the rattlesnake. We saw that he could easily evolve or wind himself at pleasure around the body of the latter – each time compressing him with those muscular powers which have entitled him to his name ‘constrictor.’ At each fresh embrace, the body of the ‘crotalus’ appeared to writhe and contract under the crushing influence of his sable adversary.

“The rattlesnake had but one weapon, which he could have employed with effect – his fangs. These were already locked in the body of the squirrel, and he could not use them upon his adversary. He could not get rid of that hairy morsel, that, like a barbed arrow, was now sticking in his throat. We could see that the squirrel still remained there; for, as the two reptiles struggled over the grass, its bushy tail was seen waving in the midst of their tortuous contest.

“At length, the battle began to flag. The motions of both combatants waxed slower and slower. We could now see how they fought. We could see – strange it appeared to us – that, instead of battling head to head – face to face – the fangs of the ‘constrictor’ were buried in the rattles of the ‘crotalus!’ Stranger still, the tail of the former rose and fell with a muscular and powerful impetus, whipping the latter to death!

“The contest was soon ended. The rattlesnake lay stretched at full length – evidently dead; while the black constrictor still continued to hug the speckled body, as though it was an object to be loved. This lasted for a moment or so; and then slowly unwinding himself, the conqueror turned round, crawled head to head with his victim, and proceeded to appropriate the prey. The ‘scene’ was over, and we all leaped to our feet to enact the finale. I should have spared the constrictor, after the good service he had done in destroying the rattlesnake; but Cudjo, who hated all sorts of creeping things, was ahead of me; and, before I could come up, I beheld the victor suspended upon his spear!”