260 WEATHER MAKING, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 



First method. — To clear tlie way for the American history we may 

 note here as method No. 1 a French method reported in the Oomptes 

 Eendus for October 23, 1893. M. Baudouin sent a note to the French 

 Academy of Sciences in which he wrote tliat in Algeria, earlier in that 

 year, he used a kite to obtain electric connection with a cloud at the 

 height of about 4,000 feet. As soon as this connection was made a 

 few droits of rain fell and a local fog formed. These disappeared on 

 breaking the connection, presumably by withdrawing the kite from the 

 cloud. M. Baudouin had obtained some rain in Algeria in 1876 by the 

 same method. I know of no other experiments in this direction, nor do 

 they involve anything in opposition to knowledge already acquired. 

 It is a fair held for experiment, and it is remarkable that M. Baudouin's 

 experiments have not attracted more attention in the United States. 



Second method. — A second proposed method of obtaining rain is by 

 means of great fires. With this proposal the name of a Pennsylvania 

 meteorologist, James P. Espy, is inseparably connected. In 1811 he 

 published a Philosophy of Storms, in which he enlarged on this idea 

 previously propounded by liim in occasional articles dating from 1838. 

 The idea was not new, for Dobrizhoffer, a Jesuit missionary in South 

 America, in his Account of the Al)ii)ones (first published in 1781), 

 says that these Indians produced rain by setting fire to the plains. 

 Indeed the idea has been and is generally entertained, and in the West 

 has crystallized into the weather proverb, "A very large prairie fire will 

 cause rain." To show something of the character of the testimony on 

 which Espy relied we shall (piote the story of George Mackay as given 

 in a letter to Espy and printed by him in his Fourth Meteorological 

 Eeport (pp. 32-34). Mr. Mackay says: 



"In 1815 I was engaged in the i>ublic survey on the Atlantic coast 

 of Florida, k^ometime in April (the time of the dry season there, 

 which lasts up to June) I was running a township line between lati- 

 tudes 26° and 27°, about 5 miles from the sea. The weather was 

 oppressively warm that day. There was not air enough stirring to 

 move an aspen leaf. We found our line must pass through a saw-grass 

 pond, containing about 500 acres. In ponds of this description the 

 green grass at the top shoots up from 5 to 6 1'eet in height, and when the 

 region has not been for some years swept clear by tires the dead and 

 dry growths of preceding seasons accumulate under tlie latest growth, 

 and are often found there from 2 to 4 feet in depth. They are exceed- 

 ingly inflammable. When lighted in dry weather they burn with friglit- 

 ful ra[)idity and violence. Whenever, in our explorations, we came upon 

 a jdace of tliis description we could only pass our line by cutting away 

 the lofty fresh grass and wading (or rather wallowing) through the 

 nuid and the underrubbish. On the day in question Ave determined, 

 as it was so hot, that to save ourselves troul)le we would burn our way 

 through. I had then no thought of your theory. In order to prevent 

 the flames from running over the woods, through which we were 

 obliged to pass, we communicated them at once to both sides of the 

 spot we desired to open, that they might converge and combine in its 

 center and not scatter latterally. In a very few minutes an awful blaze 

 swept over the entire surface which we had marked out for our purpose. 



