2S6 
FORE ST AND STREAM, 
Rebuild the Earth.— II. 
BY E. P. JAQUES. 
The Voice ta the Hills. 
Filled with the possibilities of the situation, I wan- 
dered away one balmy afternoon in autumn to where the 
hills were as nature made them, except for a wire fence 
stretching here and there across them. Now and again 
I note fine reservoir sites. Here is a section of land with 
six ravines crossing it (most of them have three or less), 
each of the six is a reservoir site, and the water of the 
entire section would be held on less than five acres of 
ground. Five hundred dollars would do the grading, and 
five hundred more would make a perfect roadway on two 
sides of it. Indeed, the opportunities to improve on 
nature are very great. But I will lie on this sunny slope, 
with that tussock of grass for a pillow, and think it over. 
Ah! it is a pleasant place to rest, fanned by the soft 
south wind, the buffalo grass plain stretching beyond, a 
glint in the yellow sunlight. But see ! What a change 
has come across the face of nature! That ravine, last 
instant dry, has become a long, winding lake of sparkling 
water. Its slopes are studded with great oak, maple, wal- 
nut and ash trees, the growth of perhaps a hundred years. 
But no ! less than half of that time has passed since the 
seed was sprouted. Such things grow quickly where 
land, water and culture are combined. There, too, is a 
railroad grade that must have been made in the last few 
minutes. "No, not a railroad, just a common country road 
that has been there for more than a hundred years. All 
roads are graded to a level now. For the first hundred 
years they were just common embankments of earth which 
were washed down by the rains and became rough from 
heavy traffic in wet weather, but now they are. crusted by 
the new process cement to the consistence of steel, and 
resist the erosions of water and traffic alike. Those ob- 
jects you see flitting back and forth there, fleet and silent 
as feathers racing before the wind are motor cars, some 
of them capable of carrying several tons of freight. But 
most of them are pleasure cars with a capacity of two, 
four or six passengers. No, they are not run by gasoline 
power, but by a powder that was invented to take its place 
when gasoline became too costly. The powder is smoke- 
less and odorless, and explodes under pressure with a 
force just according to the resistance. Unconfined, it will 
burn but not explode. The outward thrust of- the piston 
rod places a new charge of powder and the return ex- 
plodes it. The charge is easily regulated to any power 
required up to the full capacity of the engine. It is very 
cheap, and the work of a single man for a day will produce 
enough to run a long railroad train one hundred miles. 
Yes the railroads all use it on account of cheapness, 
safety and inexhaustible supply. Long-distance travelers 
and freight are mostly carried by rail. Horses are never 
used except for amusements. They are kept for exhibi- 
tion and pets only, and are bred purely for speed and 
intelligence. The engine is used to drive the carriage 
on the road or the plow in the field, and for running all 
classes of machinery. 
"In your day you built stand-pipes and pumped water 
into them to get pressure. Now we impound the water 
in the high lands and use it to water the lands further 
down the slope. Between each two streams that lead 
from mountain top to ocean is a divide or higher ridge of 
land that slopes away to the ocean, parallel to streams, 
only on a much higher level. This ridge also slopes to 
either stream. Down each of these divides is a mam pipe- 
line which taps the highest reservoir in the mountain 
tops Along the slopes of these watersheds are hundreds 
of gullies leading away to the streams on either hand that 
have been worn deep by the floods of past ages, these 
gullies are turned into reservoirs by our system of road 
grading and the water that falls on each water shed is 
retained there; when the slope of the main pipe-line 
brings it below any of these reservoirs they are tapped by 
switch lines, so that the water in them can be used any- 
where on the watershed or in the valley below. It is pos- 
sible to use water from that reservoir on land three hun- 
dred miles away and almost at a moment's notice, too. 
No, it is neither impossible nor incredible, but just as 
natural as it is for water to run down hill. Of course the 
perfecting of such a system is the work of centuries, but 
its benefits are felt as soon as the first reservoir is finished. 
Its tendency is to reduce the- damage done by floods by 
just so much, and however small the scope of land re- 
deemed, it increases production just so much. The work 
was originally begun by stockmen of this slope, who threw 
dams across the ravines to make pools for stock water 
Later land owners were annoyed by the overflowing ot 
their richest lands in the small creek bottoms by water 
that came down through ravines from the hills ; then the 
idea occurred to some to raise barriers in the ravines and 
impound the floods. When the hot winds and drouth of 
July and August came, those impounded waters held im- 
mediately above their growing crops proved their salva- 
tion. It proved a great success, for it was the certainty 
rather than the mere guess. ■ - 
"Whenever conditions permitted, others adopted tne 
same plan, and for a time it was kept up with good re- 
sults; but the opportunities for individual effort, in that 
line were very limited, and when it came to combined ac- 
tion it was well nigh impossible. According to your his- 
tories what your age was pleased to call its leaders seem 
really to have been anchors. Even in individual effort 
there were many lapses. After years of successful opera- 
tion came years of complete abandonment. Excessive 
rains for several years rendered irrigation unnecessary; 
the reservoirs drained too much territory, and the dams 
were poorly constructed; neglected, they were washed 
away Then would come a series of dry seasons and the 
dams would be partially rebuilt with no rams to fill them. 
The few would be discouraged by the jeers of the many, 
and the work would lapse altogether. If individuals were 
slow to grasp the situation and act upon it, your social 
forces were a great deal slower. ... 
"The study of the growth of irrigation is a very interest- 
ing one, for it includes the history of the growth and 
development of man. Its history is about as old as the 
history of man. Systems seem to have been evolved, suc- 
cessfully used for centuries, and then discontinued and 
forgotten only to be re-evolved as something entirely 
new Away back in those dark ages the political body 
was' made up entirely of socialistic organizations. No 
matter what they were called, be it tribe, clan, sect, party 
or church, they were all socialist orders; they were all 
organized for mutual benefit to their members. 'Tis true, 
they expected these benefits to come at the expense of the 
other orders, for at that time there was no thought of 
good coming to man except at the expense of some other 
man; so firmly fixed did this idea become, that there was 
no effort in any other line. Around each larger socialistic 
order were smaller orders, and forming part of the first, 
made up exactly as the larger orders were. Each tribe 
or order had a working class whose duty it was to furnish 
a grub stake for chiefs and medicine men. This was the 
foundation on which all clans rested. Without a grub 
stake the sages would have been weak, indeed, though 
they laid claim to supernatural power, and held sway by 
being majestically mysterious. Some of the clans, it was 
claimed, were made up entirely of the laboring classes, 
though it was noticed that the sages of this class, once 
they had a firm grip on their following, ceased to labor 
and lived just like the sages of the other clans — out of 
the labor of their following. Every advance came from 
the workers. In their efforts to wrest a grub stake from 
the grasp of nature they came in practical contact with 
the problems to be solved, and gradually gained in 
knowledge. From knowledge thus gained, all education 
MARTIN J. HEADE. 
had its source, though the sages laid claim to being the 
fountain head of all knowledge. Had there been no 
necessity for a grub stake, there had been no education ; 
all advancement was made by labor; not with the aid of 
its sages, but in spite of them. But the course of a ship 
that is dragging an anchor is necessarily slow. 
"Supplying the needs of the world came to be less than 
pastime, but invention and experiment took the place of 
the costly wars of your time. The soldier is no more. 
The inventor who supplies needful things, the actor who 
amuses, or the writer who supplies interesting books, are 
the heroes of this age. Brave men there are in plenty 
when there- is need for them. Indeed, I think the thor- 
oughly manly man is more common to-day than ever 
before. 
"Not all attempted inventions were successful ; but few 
efforts were without results of some. kind. As, for in- 
stance in the last half of the twenty-ninth century one of 
our brightest geniuses started out to build an air ship. 
He failed, but ended up by building a submarine vessel, 
so that now it is as easy to explore the bottom of the 
ocean as in your day it was to sail upon its surface. 
"Oh, yes, for very many years it was supposed that there 
was only water enough to irrigate a small, fraction of 
the great plain east of the Rocky Mountains. Events 
have proven otherwise. Look at the face of nature, 
gashed and seamed in all directions by the rushing floods. 
Where floods have been they will come again. For thous- 
ands of years water has been carried from the ocean in- 
land by the winds. There they fell in rain and rushed 
back down the rather steep incline to the ocean again. 
The great erosion that has taken place is among the great 
wonders of the West. Had there been something to re- 
tain the waters the vast slope would have been a well 
watered country through all time. But they were quick 
to go and slow to return, hence the withered condition of 
the largest body of all fertile land on earth. Try to keep 
a shingle roof damp under a blazing sun by pouring water 
upon it, and it requires a constant stream. Place a sponge 
upon the roof and saturate it, and an occasional applica- 
tion does the trick. The reservoirs act as sponges, and 
hold the water for a much longer period. Using water 
for irrigation does not lessen the amount of water in 
existence. Spread upon the land it does its work, 
evaporates, and returns in rain or seeps through the soil 
to the streams, whence it may be diverted and used again 
and again. Imagine all the water brought inland by the 
winds to be trapped and held where it fell. There would 
be no less water come inland the next year, and a double 
amount of moisture would be the result. When the 
sponge of atmosphere, earth and reservoirs are filled to 
their utmost capacity, the water left to Mow back to the 
sea will be in exact ratio to the. water brought inland by 
the winds. When the work of grading was first taken by 
townships and county organizations it was very slowly 
and grudgingly done, for they were doubtful of results, 
and felt they were laboring for the future without possible 
gain to themselves. Many mistakes were made. Often 
work commenced at the wrong end of the ravines, and the 
first rain would wash away the grade. Lapses generally 
followed these disasters, and but for individual effort the 
work had never been carried to success. From individual 
performances it was demonstrated that results were im- 
mediate. Reservoirs were constructed, crops saved from 
flood, and later irrigated from the surplus, all in the same 
year. When State and nation took up the work, a new 
trouble arose. Each large appropriation was surrounded 
by such a swarm of grafters (I think that is what they 
were called in that age) that the very earth trembled be- 
neath their tread, and it was seldom that a single dollar 
seeped through them and reached the work it was in- 
tended to perform. When there was a large fund, irriga- 
tion congresses were of daily occurrence. Costly engi- 
neers were employed to formulate plans, when the road 
overseers would have begun the work at once. When 
any of these plans were completed, it was a sure sign 
there was nothing left with which to carry them out. 
. Large corporations took up the work; but against this 
there was a general outcry, as well there might be, for 
they not only appropriated all results, but the resources 
of nature as well, to their own use. The work of the cor- 
porations, however, was practical, and had great educa- 
tional value. Slowly the work proceeded, and slowly the 
waters accummulated. Older systems of irrigation were 
benefited as well as the new. Streams maintained an even 
flow through rainless periods, and supplied the ditches ; 
irrigation wells became less liable to exhaustion, and rain- 
fall increased. The very climate changed. Blue grass 
spread from Kentucky to the Rocky Mountains. Nor did 
the benefits end with the irrigated district. Rivers came 
to have a regular flow, but overflows no longer occurred. 
The lower Mississippi country was redeemed as well as 
the bottom lands along all streams. The rivers were im- 
proved and. made into fine waterways, but they are only 
used for pleasure and fishcultur'e. The waters became 
pure and clear as crystal from being filtered through the 
soil. Fish thrived amazingly; the reservoirs were used 
for propagation as well as the streams, and to-day the fish 
business of this once great desert is more important than 
that of the Atlantic Coast. 
"The Government owns most of the land now, and rents 
it direct to the user, though some individuals still retain 
title to their land, it is rather cheaper to rent from the 
Government. The rent amounts to the same thing as an 
individual owner who pays taxes for protection, and pre- 
vents any possible monopoly of land. No, it is not the 
old single -tax idea, as all classes need protection for their 
property and pay taxes in proportion to the amount of 
property protected, no matter what the property consists 
of. Everybody has leisure these days. The question is 
not of how to live, but of how to amuse oneself. Explor- 
ing the fields of invention is a favorite diversion, and 
great inventions result. Even now a man is at work on a 
system through which he expects to make the entire earth 
habitable by tempering all climates. He expects to force 
the hot air from the equator through pipes to the poles, 
and cold air from the poles to the equator, tempering the 
whole. He maintains that once the pipes are laid and the 
current started, the flow will be eternal. I confess that 
results seem quite as problematical to me as this irrigation 
scheme evidently seemed to the people of your age. The 
knocker, however, is not tolerated in this age. There is 
no r — m— " 
The voice died away in an indistinct murmur. In strain- 
ing to catch the words, something snapped like the break- 
ing of a thin glass globe; the long line of graded road 
faded out. The flitting tram cars ceased to flit. Where 
the great oaks were was only blue-stem grass. The voice 
was only the crooning of the wind through its nodding 
stems. I was back in the grafter's age — the early 
twentieth. 
[to be continued.] 
A Doctor's Hatty Call. 
In response to a hurry call, Dr. Rowland Cox, Jr., of 
New York, made a 74-mile trip to Eagle Lake. Much of 
the journey had to be made in a canoe, and the doctor 
established a record which old guides say it will be diffi- 
cult to break. A guide who had been sent out from camp 
early that morning telephoned the doctor late in the after- 
noon from Chesuncook Lake that a young woman was 
critically ill at Eagle Lake camp, and he was wanted there. 
Preparations were immediately begun for the journey, and 
at 8 o'clock in the evening the doctor, accompanied by 
two guides, left for the northeast carry by special steamer. 
A few hours' rest was obtained, and at 3 -.30 o'clock the 
following morning the party was astir, and at 4:45 had 
taken its canoe across the two-mile carry, launched it in 
the west branch of the Penobscot, and was ready for the 
long trip. The distance from this point is 54 miles by 
lake and river, and the route is down the west branch to 
Chesuncook Lake, across Chesuncook Lake to Umba- 
zookskus Stream ; up this stream to the lake of the same 
name, across Mud Pond carry, two miles, to Chamberlain 
Lake ; down this lake to the dam ; across the dam into 
Eagle Lake to the camp, which is known as "Zeigler's old 
camping ground." Ordinarily two days are counted on to 
make the distance, and "fair winds" are depended on, but 
the doctor and his guides covered the distance in twenty- 
two hours, an average speed of over four miles an hour. 
He reached the camp at 6 o'clock Tuesday evening, in 
spite of nasty head winds on Chamberlain Lake (eleven 
miles) and Eagle Lake (seven miles). Making allowance 
for stops and delays, which include the two-mile Mud 
Pond carry, the speed was nearly five miles an hour for 
thirteen consecutive hours, a record which seems incred- 
ible. The young woman's illness proved not to be serious, 
and it was not necessary to bring her out, as had been 
expected. The doctor left the camp the following morn- 
ing, reaching Kineo the next night. — Kineo (Me.) dis- 
patch in New York Herald. 
