"You would make a first-rate professor, George," said Ralph, laughing,
"and you may refer to me in case you should desire to procure such a
position. Now I think I am armed with sufficient knowledge to be able to
meet your oily friends, the moonlighters, and have some idea of what
they mean when they speak."
"If I am not mistaken we shall meet some of them very soon, without
trying hard; but if we do not, I will take you to one of their cabins as
soon as we may both feel inclined to go."
"Don't think that I have come here to spend my vacation simply with the
idea that I am at liberty to make drafts at sight on your time," replied
Ralph, as an unusually rough portion of the road necessitated his
exerting all his strength to prevent being thrown out of the wagon. "I
intend to be of every possible assistance to you, and when I cannot do
that, if you are still obliged to labor, I will extract no small amount
of enjoyment out of your farm-house and its surroundings. But at any
time that you have a few hours to spare, I will be only too well pleased
to meet with any adventure, from nitro-glycerine blasts to the perils of
trout-fishing."
By this time the conversation ceased, owing to Ralph's interest in the
scenery around him, and the curious combination of oil-tanks and
derricks with which the landscape was profusely dotted. From Bradford to
Sawyer the road winds along at the base of the hills through a lovely
valley, that seems entirely given over to machinery for the production
and storage of oil. On every hand are the tall, unsightly constructions
of timber that form the derricks, looking not unlike enormous spiders,
as they stand on the sides of the mountains or in the ravines, while the
network of iron pipes, through which the oil is forced by steam-pumps
from the wells to Jersey City, are fitting webs for such spiders.
Huge iron tanks, capable of holding from twenty to forty thousand
barrels of oil, dot the valley quite as thickly as do the blots of ink
on a school-boy's first composition, and form storage places for this
strange product of earth, when the supply is greater than the demand. It
is truly a singular scene, and he who visits this portion of the country
for the first time cannot rid himself of the impression that he has, by
some mysterious combination of circumstances, been transported to some
remote and unknown portion of the globe.
George, to whom this scene was perfectly familiar, did not seem inclined
to allow his friend to remain in silent wonder, for he persisted in
supplying him with a fund of dry detail, which effectually prevented any
indulgence of day-dreams.
Although Ralph would have preferred to gaze about him in silence,
George told him of the Pipe-Line Company, who owned the greater portion
of the huge iron receptacles for oil; who also owned the network of iron
pipes, through which they forced the oil to the market at a charge of
twenty-five cents per barrel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account