Part 38 (2/2)

A TUSSLE WITH THE MONARCH OF THE SEA

In spite of his interest in the pearl work, Colin began to feel the strain of the steady and persistent grind required from him by Dr.

Edelstein, who himself seemed absolutely untiring. At the beginning of July, moreover, the weather turned wet, and the rain poured down steadily, not heavily, but soaking the ground thoroughly. For a week or so no notice was taken of the rain, other than the discomfort it caused, but one day Colin overheard one of the head workers saying to the superintendent:

”It looks as though we might have trouble unless there's a let-up to the rain soon!”

”I'm afraid of it,” was the reply, and the grave tone of the answer surprised Colin; ”and I hear that it's raining in torrents in Montana.”

”We're safe enough, I suppose,” was the comment.

”Yes,” the superintendent answered, ”but hundreds of other people are not. Floods always catch some of them.”

This was an idea that had not occurred to Colin. The word ”flood” called up a host of graphic ideas, and a flood on the Mississippi, the largest river in the world flowing through a populated country, seemed a serious matter. He spoke of it to his friend of the paddlefish investigation.

”Yes,” the other answered, ”there have been many scores of lives lost and many millions of dollars swept away on the 'Father of Waters,' and I doubt if the time will ever come when the flood danger will be at an end. Remember that the Mississippi River Valley is the only water outlet for two-thirds of the entire United States.”

”It's protected by levees, too, isn't it?” Colin queried. ”At least, during the flood on the Mississippi, you always hear of the levees breaking or just going to break.”

”They give way very seldom now,” his chief replied, ”and that means wonderful engineering, for there are sixteen hundred miles of levee, the river banks being built up clear from Illinois to the Gulf.”

”Then where are the floods one hears of so often?”

”There are bad floods on the Ohio,” was the reply, ”and there is always danger when a flood tide comes down the Mississippi. You see, if part of a levee does give way, or as they say, if a 'creva.s.se' comes, thousands of square miles are inundated, hundreds of people made homeless, and the property loss is incalculable. All the land around the lower part of the Mississippi is just a flood plain which used to be covered with water every year. That land has been rescued from the river just as Holland has been rescued from the sea.”

”Then there is danger every year?”

”There is always danger,” was the reply, ”and the levees are carefully patrolled. But during the high water of early summer there is more danger, and a week's rain means trouble. We're going to have a bad flood this year unless the rain stops soon.”

”But the river isn't rising?”

”Not yet. Why should it? It isn't the water that flows directly into the Mississippi, but that which floods the tributaries that causes disaster.

From the Rocky Mountains on the one side to the Alleghanies on the other, and from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada--nearly every drop of rain that isn't evaporated or used by plants has to be carried to the sea by the Mississippi.”

”It seems like a big job for one river bed,” Colin agreed. ”But how can it be made safer?”

”The way is easy,” was the answer, ”but costly. If big reservoirs are built on all the headwater streams so that--no matter what the rainfall may be--only a constant amount is allowed to flow out of these reservoirs, then floods will be avoided, there will be plenty of water for irrigation, and a steady depth of water in the channel will extend navigation that is now stopped during low-water periods. Besides which, it will make the Mississippi fish question a great deal easier.”

”I don't quite see what it has to do with the fis.h.!.+” the boy said.

”Supposing five thousand square miles of land are flooded. When the water goes down, at least half that amount of land is still flooded, though no longer connected with the river, but forming shallow lakes and pools. These are all full of fish. As the pools dry up, everything that is in them dies, and millions of food fish are lost.”

”But how can we stop that?”

”The Bureau of Fisheries does a great deal to stop it,” was the answer, ”and if this rain holds--though we are all praying that it won't--you'll probably have a chance to see. The Bureau seines as many as it can of those bayous and pools and lakes to save the fish and return them to the river. If a couple of men can save several thousand fish a day, isn't that worth while? Think of a farmer who could get a thousand bushels of wheat in a day! And that's about the proportion of food value.”

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