Siphoning Sludge

          Most of our wells maintained their water levels due to an ingenious system of pipes and floats.  The large storage tank holding tens of thousands of gallons of water was connected to a nearby drinker by two pipes and a float box.  One pipe led from the tank to the box with a float valve attached to the end.  The drinker was connected to this box by an open pipe.  When the cattle depleted the water supply in the drinker, the water level in the box would also drop and the float would descend opening the valve.  When the float rose to a specified height, the valve would close.  This system was wonderful, except when an errant frog or waterdog would find its way into the pipe and plug it up, or the pipe would eventually rust out causing the pipe to be plugged.

         Instead of plumbing a new line, the fine art of siphoning was substituted.  There were quite a few wells that were maintained using this art, one perfected by midnight gas thieves, but not by slave cowboys pressed into servitude by an ornery old man.

         The worst well was the Ridge Well.  The storage tank had long ago been surrounded by blown sand so many large and small critters found their way in for a deadly swim.  We eventually got smart and built an escape ramp to let the critters out, but that was long after my siphoning experiences with Earl.

         The sand also filled the bottom of the tank, mixed with rotten plants, to create an oil-like sludge that took weeks to scrub off and get the smell out.  The float box was filled with sand, and a common garden hose was our pipe.

         Earl would place one end of the hose into the tank and, by sight alone, judge how deep to place the end of the hose to fill the drinker.  The indentured servant would take hold of the other end, fifty feet away and start sucking water through the hose.  A few hard pulls on the hose was rewarded with a mouthful of rancid water, usually teeming with little swimming waterbugs.

         I remember often being on the side that sucks, literally.  One day, when asked to go to work on the hose, I tried to get that water through the hose for at least ten minutes when I looked through the fence at Earl.  His thumb was covering the other end.  To my incredulous look he simply responded, “Checking for air leaks!”  He jammed the other end into the tank and I became the human water pump again.  A couple hard pulls by failing lungs and the rush of stagnant air began filling my mouth and cheeks.  Without warning, I was hit with the most disgusting mouthful of slime.  Earl had set the hose too low in the tank.  I can only imagine that it was drinking from a septic tank!  I spluttered and retched for hours after that terrible incident.  Nothing in my lunch box would quell the rotten flavor in my mouth.  I came very close to starting a smoking habit that day.