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“Indeed there was,” was the answer. “The Indians were the first irrigators. The Pueblo or village Indians, as they were called, while it was in a crude way, irrigated all the land on which they raised corn. They were the first settlers of the Rio Grande Valley. We know this is so, for one of the Spanish Conquistadores, Coronado by name, wrote it down in the record of his travels. When he marched from the south into what is now New Mexico in search of the gold which was the aim and hope of all the adventurers of his time, he found the Indians irrigating the land by means of crude ditches dug with their primitive implements. This was the first record we have, but it has been established beyond any reasonable doubt that such irrigation as he found was practiced here by this river that flows below us long before Columbus discovered America. The theory is that in all probability irrigation along the Rio Grande was in vogue even before the Egyptians used the waters of the Nile for the same purpose. When the first Spanish settlers came along, and later the Americans, they adopted the same methods of making the ground productive as had the Indians. All we have done as time went on is to improve the general principles taken from the savages. Of course, as we made better tools, we have been able to build larger ditches and so increase the area of fertile land far beyond the dreams of the Indians.”,
Little was said as they took Bob and hoisted him into the saddle of one of their horses. Harper got up behind him and handled the reins on either side of his body. He turned the horse’s head away from the trail into the low brush that here covered the ground. The other man followed.,
Some time for a husband to wait,
As she stood examining the place, vainly looking for Ferdinand, yet fearing to call, lest her voice should betray her, a hollow groan arose from apart of the church very near her. It chilled her heart, and she remained fixed to the spot. She turned her eyes a little to the left, and saw light appear through the chinks of a sepulchre at some distance. The groan was repeated—a low murmuring succeeded, and while she yet gazed, an old man issued from the vault with a lighted taper in his hand. Terror now subdued her, and she utterred an involuntary shriek. In the succeeding moment, a noise was heard in a remote part of the fabric; and Ferdinand rushing forth from his concealment, ran to her assistance. The old man, who appeared to be a friar, and who had been doing penance at the monument of a saint, now approached. His countenance expressed a degree of surprise and terror almost equal to that of Julia's, who knew him to be the confessor of Vincent. Ferdinand seized the father; and laying his hand upon his sword, threatened him with death if he did not instantly swear to conceal for ever his knowledge of what he then saw, and also assist them to escape from the abbey.
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The speed of the bucket slackened as it neared the cable height and for an agonizing second he thought that Billy was about to drop him back to the spot he had started from. It would be a rotten ending to his adventure, and the whole camp would have the laugh on him. On a sudden impulse he disengaged one hand and motioned that he wanted to go on.,
“Yes, that is our biggest job. We call it irrigation. But it isn’t always necessary to build these dams where the rainfall is heavy. If we can dam a river above the point where it begins to dry up, we can usually collect enough water during the flood season to supply a great area of dry land below it during all the months of the year.”,
The effect which the latter part of this sentence had upon the prisoners in the vault, may be more easily imagined than described. They were now in total darkness in this mansion of the murdered, without means of escape, and in momentary expectation of sharing a fate similar to that of the wretched objects around them. Julia, overcome with distress and terror, sunk on the ground; and Hippolitus, descending from the grate, became insensible of his own danger in his apprehension for her.,
“But, Mr. Whitney,” Bob put in, “if irrigation was such a success, why weren’t more canals constructed before the Government took hold of the job?”
“I wish we were too,” agreed Bob, warming up to Jerry’s unexpected long speech. “Isn’t there anything exciting we can do while waiting for Mr. Whitney?”
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Developer Response,
The young Indian had been right. It was Miguel. Even in the uncertain light Bob could see that he carried a queer-shaped package under his arm.
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gl7og-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
The Queen knew nothing of all this. Meanwhile a little Princess had been born to her, as beautiful as the Frog had predicted, to whom they gave the name of Moufette. The Queen had great difficulty in persuading the fairy to allow her to bring up the child, for so ferocious was she, that she would have liked to eat it. Moufette, a wonder of beauty, was now six months old; the Queen, as she looked upon her with a tenderness mingled with pity, continually said: "Ah! if your father could see you, my poor little one, how delighted he would be! how dear you would be to him! But even, already, maybe, he has begun to forget me; he believes, no doubt, that we are lost to him in death; and perhaps another fills the place in his heart, that once was mine."
g4tpb-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
Yes, there was a lady and a gentleman on the path—that rough path full of tree roots and stones; and another lady and gentleman—and following them two ladies—more ladies—in light dresses and with baskets.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Inside, Bob had been listening with wide open ears and his mind pictured the scene Jerry had left to find Mr. Whitney and filled out the holes the winded boy had left in his description. He knew the auxiliary spillway and the harm it could do if it should fail to carry its burden. It was a temporary affair of wood to be used only until a system of drains could be built to take care of the excess water that collected below the coffer dam. His mind’s eye saw Rutherford and Jerry at the dangerous place: Rutherford, young and inexperienced, doing what he could to avert disaster, but rattled, probably badly so. He wanted Mr. Whitney or somebody with practical knowledge and he had sent Jerry off to bring help. All Bob could do was to hope that the wall would hold.
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