Chapter 20

MY UNBIDDEN GUEST PROVES HIS STATEMENT AND REFUTES MY PHILOSOPHY.

Let the reader who has followed this strange story which I am directed to title “The End of Earth,” and who, in imagination, has traversed the cavernous passages of the underworld and listened to the conversation of those two personages who journeyed towards the secrets of the Beyond, return now to upper earth, and once more enter my secluded lodgings, the home of Llewellen Drury, him who listened to the aged guest and who claims your present attention. Remember that I relate a story within a story. That importunate guest of mine, of the glittering knife and the silvery hair, like another Ancient Mariner, had constrained me to listen to his narrative, as he read it aloud to me from the manuscript. I patiently heard chapter after chapter, generally with pleasure, often with surprise, sometimes with incredulity, or downright dissent. Much of the narrative, I must say, --yes, most of it, appeared possible, if not probable, as taken in its connected sequence. The scientific sections were not uninteresting; the marvels of the fungus groves, the properties of the inner light, I was not disinclined to accept as true to natural laws; but when The-Man-Who-Did-It came to tell of the intra-earth salt deposits, and to explain the cause of the disappearance of lakes that formerly existed underground, and their simultaneous replacement by beds of salt, my credulity was overstrained.

“Permit me to interrupt your narrative,” I remarked, and then in response to my request the venerable guest laid down his paper.

“Well?” he said, interrogatively.

“I do not believe that last statement concerning the salt lake, and, to speak plainly, I would not have accepted it as you did, even had I been in your situation.”

“To what do you allude?” he asked.

“The physical abstraction of water from the salt of a solution of salt; I do not believe it possible unless by evaporation of the water.”

“You seem to accept as conclusive the statements of men who have never investigated beneath the surface in these directions, and you question the evidence of a man who has seen the phenomenon. I presume you accept the prevailing notions about salt beds, as you do the assertion that liquids seek a common level, which your scientific authorities also teach as a law of nature?”

“Yes; I do believe that liquids seek a common level, and I am willing to credit your other improbable statements if you can demonstrate the principle of liquid equilibrium to be untrue.”

“Then,” said he, “to-morrow evening I will show you that fluids seek different levels, and also explain to you how liquids may leave the solids they hold in solution without evaporating from them.”

He arose and abruptly departed. It was near morning, and yet I sat in my room alone pondering the story of my unique guest until I slept to dream of caverns and seances until daylight, when I was awakened by their vividness. The fire was out, the room was cold, and, shivering in nervous exhaustion, I crept into bed to sleep and dream again of horrible things I can not describe, but which made me shudder in affright at their recollection. Late in the day I awoke.

On the following evening my persevering teacher appeared punctually, and displayed a few glass tubes and some blotting or bibulous paper.

“I will first show you that liquids may change their levels in opposition to the accepted laws of men, not contrary to nature’s laws; however, let me lead to the experiments by a statement of facts, that, if you question, you can investigate at any time. If two vessels of water be connected by a channel from the bottom of each, the water surfaces will come to a common level.”

He selected a curved glass tube, and poured water into it. The water assumed the position shown in Figure 11.

[Illustration: FIG. 11.--A A, water in tube seeks a level.]

“You have not shown me anything new,” I said; “my text-books taught me this.”

“True, I have but exhibited that which is the foundation of your philosophy regarding the surface of liquids. Let me proceed:

“If we pour a solution of common salt into such a U tube, as I do now, you perceive that it also rises to the same level in both ends.”

“Of course it does.”

“Do not interrupt me. Into one arm of the tube containing the brine I now carefully pour pure water. You observe that the surfaces do not seek the same level.” (Figure 12.)

[Illustration: FIG. 12.--A, surface of water. B, surface of brine.]

“Certainly not,” I said; “the weight of the liquid in each arm is the same, however; the columns balance each other.”

“Exactly; and on this assumption you base your assertion that connected liquids of the same gravity must always seek a common level, but you see from this test that if two liquids of different gravities be connected from beneath, the surface of the lighter one will assume a higher level than the surface of the heavier.”

“Agreed; however tortuous the channel that connects them, such must be the case.”

“Is it not supposable,” said he, “that there might be two pockets in the earth, one containing salt water, the other fresh water, which, if joined together, might be represented by such a figure as this, wherein the water surface would be raised above that of the brine?” And he drew upon the paper the accompanying diagram. (Figure 13.)

“Yes,” I admitted; “providing, of course, there was an equal pressure of air on the surface of each.”

[Illustration: FIG. 13.--B, surface of brine. W, surface of water. S, sand strata connecting them.]

“Now I will draw a figure in which one pocket is above the other, and ask you to imagine that in the lower pocket we have pure water, in the upper pocket brine (Figure 14); can you bring any theory of your law to bear upon these liquids so that by connecting them together the water will rise and run into the brine?”

[Illustration: FIG. 14.--B, brine. W, water. S, sand stratum. (The difference in altitude is somewhat exaggerated to make the phenomenon clear. A syphon may result under such circumstances.--L.)]

“No,” I replied; “connect them, and then the brine will flow into the water.”

“Upon the contrary,” he said; “connect them, as innumerable cavities in the earth are joined, and the water will flow into the brine.”

“The assertion is opposed to applied philosophy and common sense,” I said.

“Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise, you know to be a maxim with mortals,” he replied; “but I must pardon you; your dogmatic education narrows your judgment. I now will prove you in error.”

He took from his pocket two slender glass tubes, about an eighth of an inch in bore and four inches in length, each closed at one end, and stood them in a perforated cork that he placed upon the table.

Into one tube he poured water, and then dissolving some salt in a cup, poured brine into the other, filling both nearly to the top (Figure 15). Next he produced a short curved glass tube, to each end of which was attached a strip of flexible rubber tubing. Then, from a piece of blotting paper such as is used to blot ink, he cut a narrow strip and passed it through the arrangement, forming the apparatus represented by Figure 16.

[Illustration: FIG. 15. A A, glass tubes. F, brine surface. E, water surface.]

[Illustration: FIG. 16. B, curved glass tube. C C, rubber tubes. D D D, bibulous paper.]

Then he inserted the two tubes (Figure 15) into the rubber, the extremities of the paper being submerged in the liquids, producing a combination that rested upright in the cork as shown by Figure 17.

The surfaces of both liquids were at once lowered by reason of the suction of the bibulous paper, the water decreasing most rapidly, and soon the creeping liquids met by absorption in the paper, the point of contact, as the liquids met, being plainly discernible. Now the old man gently slid the tubes upon each other, raising one a little, so as to bring the surfaces of the two liquids exactly on a plane; he then marked the glass at the surface of each with a pen.