CHAPTER XIV.
THE WALK AFTER THE RAIN.
The sky was clear and bright as if it had been washed by the rain. The trees took on a fresher green. The corn held up its tasseled heads as if conscious of the strength the clouds had given it. The birds, too, rejoiced as they flew from tree to tree, singing their sweetest songs.
"How nice it is to get out after being in the house all day," said
Susie, skipping along by Uncle Robert's side. "See that lovely blue sky.
I wish I had a dress for my doll just that color."
"And when we came out this morning," said Uncle Robert, "Donald thought the clouds looked as though they were solid and could never break away."
"They're all gone now," said Donald. "I wonder where they went. Aren't the clouds lovely sometimes, uncle? I love to watch them when they look like great piles of snow."
"Yes," replied Uncle Robert, "when I was a boy I used to lie for hours under an old apple tree and watch the clouds. I fancied they had very wonderful forms, sometimes giants and dragons and all kinds of animals."
[Illustration: The clouds.]
"You can see things in them," said Donald. "I often do."
"What are clouds made of, uncle?" asked Susie. "I wish I could get close to one and see what it is like."
"When people go up in balloons," said Donald, "they go through clouds sometimes."
"Have you never been in a cloud?" asked Uncle Robert, smiling.
"Oh, no," said Susie. "How could I? I've never been up in a balloon."
"I know," was the reply, "but have you never seen anything near the ground that looked at all like a cloud?"
"I don't remember," said Susie, shaking her head.
"We've seen fogs along the river," said Frank. "They look a little like clouds. You know we see them almost every morning."
"Oh, yes," exclaimed Donald. "Don't you remember that fog we had early last spring? Why, uncle, it was so thick we couldn't see the barn from the house."
"And, uncle," said Susie, "I went out to the barn with father, and in a few minutes there were little drops of water on my hair, and all over my cloak."
"Did it last all day?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Oh, no," said Frank, "only for a little while in the morning. Then it went away and the sun came out."
"How did it go away?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Why," said Donald, "at first it began to get lighter, and we could see things plainer."
"And then," chimed in Susie, "it looked as though the fog broke up into pieces that rolled up in the sky, and floated off just like clouds."
[Illustration: The gully.]
"But what is that we see over the bottom land yonder?"
"It looks like fog," said Frank.
"More like steam, I think," said Donald.
"If it was up there against that blue sky instead of on the ground—" said Uncle Robert.
"Then it would be a cloud," said Susie. "Why, I never thought of that."
They had gone through the gate in front of the house, and were following the path that led down the slope to the spring.
"See how the water has plowed through the ground," said Frank, pointing to a gully the rain had made in the path.
"It took a good many rains to make that gully," said Donald.
"There was a little creek here for a while," said Frank. "The water has all run off now, but it has spoiled the path."
"Will the gully get deeper every time it rains?" asked Susie.
"Of course," said Donald. "That's what makes it."
"Why does the water run along the path?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Because it is lower than the ground on each side," said Frank.
"How deep do you think the water will dig into the path if we do not fill it up?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Oh, way, way down. I suppose," said Donald.
"But if grass grew on the path," said Frank, "the water wouldn't wear the ground away. We will have to fill it up with stones."
"See these pebbles, uncle," said Susie. "How did they get here? They look just like those we saw on the island."
"Do you remember what I told you about the bowlders on the island?"
"Yes, you said the bowlders were made by ice," answered Susie. "Did the ice make these pebbles?"
"Perhaps so, and perhaps the river made them and left them here."
"What! that river away down there? How could it get up here?"
"That river away down there once flowed right over this ground," said Uncle Robert. "This slope," pointing just above, "was its bank, and the ground under our feet its bed."
"That must have been a hundred years ago," said Donald.
"Yes, a great many hundred years ago. You see the work this bit of a stream has done in the path? Many rivers begin just this way. They are cutting and changing the earth all the time."
They had now come to the spring nearly at the foot of the slope. On sultry summer days it was a cool, inviting spot. The low-spreading branches of a beautiful bur oak shaded the little stream where it gushed from the outcropping limestone.
"Do you want a drink?" asked Susie, taking the tin dipper which always hung by the spring.
"Thank you, dear. How cool it is! It makes me think of the old spring in the hayfield where I used to work when I was a boy."
"The rain has not made the spring run any faster," said Donald.
"Where does this water come from?" asked Uncle Robert.
"From out of the ground," said Susie. "How does it get into the ground?"
[Illustration: The spring.]
"It's always there, isn't it?" said Susie. "The spring runs all the time. I fill my pail here every day in the summer."
"Yes, don't you remember when the wells all dried up last summer," said
Frank, "that the spring was all right?"
"Well, then, where has the water gone that fell to-day?" asked Uncle
Robert.
"Most of it has run off into the creek and river," said Donald. "It would look just like a lake if it was an inch and a half deep all over the ground."
"Some of it has soaked into the ground," said Frank.
"How deep down into the ground?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Down to China," laughed Donald.
"How deep do you have to dig to find water—to China?"
"Our wells are about thirty feet deep," said Frank. "In a dry time there's no water in them."
"How is it when you have a long wet spell?"
"They are more than half full then."
"Have both wells the same depth?"
"I think so."
"Where does the water in the wells come from?"
"It is the rain that has soaked into the ground," said Frank.
"How far down does it go?"
"It must go down till it finds some hard clay or rock that stops it," said Frank.
"What does it do then?"
"Then," said Frank slowly, "it must go along on top of the rock or clay."
"When does it come out of the ground?"
"Oh, I see! The rain goes down until it comes to that lime rock. Then it goes along the rock, and comes out there," said Donald, pointing to the spring.
"Does it always?" asked Frank. "I have read of very deep wells that are bored down into the ground more than a thousand feet, and when the augur strikes water the water comes right up to the top of the ground."
"You are talking about artesian wells," said Uncle Robert.
"Yes, that is the name."
[Illustration: Section of hillside.]
They had left the spring and were walking down toward the mouth of the creek. The rain had swollen the little stream, and the water was dark with dirt.
"See how muddy the water is," said Susie.
"The creek must bring down a lot of earth," said Frank.
"There are Joe and Dick Davis," said Donald, pointing across the river.
"I wonder what they are doing? I'm going to see."
Donald ran along to the mouth of the creek, which he reached as the Davis boys began to scramble down the steep bank to the edge of the river.
"Hello there!" called Donald. "What are you fellows doing?"
"Sticking in the mud," replied Joe Davis, holding up first one foot and then the other, heavy with the stiff clay that hung to it.
"Why don't they go around by the path?" said Susie, coming up with Frank and Uncle Robert.
"They'll always take the short cut if there is one," laughed Frank.
"Come along over here!" he shouted.
"All right," sang out Dick, scraping the mud from his shoes.
An eddy in the stream just above the steep bank made a quiet place in the current. Here their boat was moored. As they pushed out from the shore they were swept down the stream, but a few strong pulls carried them beyond the swiftest part of the current, and then they easily rowed back to the landing at the mouth of the creek, where the Leonards were waiting for them.
"I wish our bank was low like this," said Joe as he leaped from the boat. "We have to go so far downstream before we find a low bank on our side."
"I should think you'd rather walk a mile," said Susie, looking at Joe's shoes, "than come down that bank when it's so muddy."
"Humph! we don't mind a little mud," said Dick, wiping his feet on the grass.
"You've brought some of your land over to us, I see," laughed Uncle Robert. "Mr. Leonard will be obliged to you. He is always glad when the soil is left on his side."
"I don't see why it is," said Joe, "that our land is being cut away all the time and yours is getting bigger. It isn't fair."
"We can't help it, Joe," said Susie. "It's the river that does it. You ask Uncle Robert. He'll tell you all about it."
"I can tell you how it is," said Donald. "You know how strong the current is over on your side? Well, that's the reason your land is washed away. The water flows slower here, so it drops all the stuff it brings with it on our side. See?"
"My!" said Dick, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "doesn't he know a lot!"
"Well, it's so," declared Donald, giving his head a nod. "You can see it yourself if you keep your eyes open."
"My eyes are always open," said Dick, "but that doesn't keep our land."
"You ought to have a creek," said Frank, "if you want your land to grow.
Just look, uncle, what a lot of dirt has been left here."
"It makes quite a delta, doesn't it?" replied Uncle Robert.
"Sure enough," said Donald. "You remember the day of our picnic we were going to see if there was one here, and we forgot it."
"Now you see where some of the dirt or silt that is brought down by the creek goes," said Uncle Robert. "And all this must have been left here since the flood in the spring. Frank is right. The creek is really building land all the time."
"Most of the dirt or—what did you call it—silt goes down the river, doesn't it?" asked Frank.
"Our land goes down the river," said Joe; "I've seen it."
"And the river is building land for us," said Donald.
"Yes," said Uncle Robert, "the river works all the time, tearing down in some places and building up in others. The clouds give us rain, the rain goes down into the ground, and then comes out and runs into the streams, and then—"
"Into the ocean," said Frank.
"And then—"
No one spoke.
"And then it rises up from the ocean and comes back again in clouds."
"Did those clouds we had this morning come all the way from the ocean?" asked Joe. "I don't see how they could come so far?"
"The clouds have swift wings to carry them," replied Uncle Robert. "They travel very far without tiring."
"The wind brings the clouds, doesn't it, uncle?" asked Susie.
"Yes, they come on the wings of the wind."
"Oh," said Joe, "I see."
"There's father blowing the horn," said Dick. "We must go."
"Come again," said Uncle Robert and the children together.
"I wish we could hear more about the river," said Joe to Frank as he helped them push off the boat.
"Come over again any day," said Frank. "Uncle Robert will tell you all about it."
"I wish he was my uncle, too," said Dick as they pulled out into the stream. "He isn't a bit stuck up and he knows a lot."