period of upheaval, when the mountains spouted fire and the waters shook to terrestrial thunderings. Slowly the shore line rose higher, and the bed of the wide sea sank. A mighty convulsion, when the earth writhed in agony, caused the great fault that culminated in the subsidence of a wide area to the south to form what was now the desert. The slope of the sea floor reversed under the volcanic hammerings. The water, deprived of surface flow by the heightening of the hills, shrank to shallow pools and marshy lagoons and vanished altogether. Next came a slow process of weathering down, then more volcanic action. The encircling wall that had been the shore line was rent and shattered. Fissures like the canyon beneath came into being. Streams again flowed into the basin, now much shallower, and cut channels across its surface, made their way down the slope from the cap rock and lost themselves in the sands of the desert or by way of subterranean channels reached the Rio Grande and the sea. And that was how the rangeland that was now Weirton Valley came into being.
Walt Slade pondered all this while he studied the hills. He wondered just how deep the reversal that tilted the valley floor from north to south continued. For upon the possible depth of the reversal depended a nebulous theory that was building up in his mind and might lead to the explanation he sought. Heavy with thought, he rode back down the trail to supervise the final round-up chores.
That evening the various herds were driven to their home pastures where they would be held for a few days until the drive north to the railroad and the shipping pens got under way.
“Best handled round-up I ever had anything to do with,” declared old Tom Mawson. The other owners nodded sober agreement.
The following afternoon Slade rode to Weirton, feeling that he should keep an eye on the activities of the oil town. He did not follow the Chihuahua but rode directly south to the creek before turning west, desiring to study its environs a bit more. Upon reaching the ford he splashed his horse through the water and entered the town. He found Bob Kent busy around his workings. The oilman paused in his activities to greet Slade and have a talk.
“That darn Blaine Richardson has got me bothered,” he confessed. “Yesterday he rode down to the desert with two of his best drillers and a pack mule. He came back toward evening but he didn’t bring the drillers or the mule with him. Looks like he’s establishing a permanent camp down there. I wonder if he has got the right notion and that down there was the real inland sea and the best deposit. I’m half of the notion to buy a hunk of that land from the state on the chance that he might be right.”
Slade shot the oilman an exasperated glance. “Kent,” he said, “even a limited knowledge of geology should tell you that the desert was never part of the inland sea.”
“But that engineer from the Spindletop field said it was,” Kent protested.
“If he did, he lied,” Slade replied shortly. “No certificated engineer would make such a mistake. The desert was at one time but a continuation of the hills to the east and west, part of the shoreline of the sea that covered what is now Weirton Valley. The desert came into being in the course of the subsidence that created the Balcones Fault. It was never under water, at least at no period that is covered by geological and petrological survey, and the period of scientific survey covers the formation of oil pools.”
Kent looked a little blank, but convinced. “And then you’d say there is no oil under the desert?”
“I would hesitate to make such a dogmatic statement,” Slade replied. “We must take into consideration the fact that we do not know what occurs or has occurred in the depths of the earth. Through overflow or seepage there might possibly be some oil under the desert, although I consider it highly improbable. But even if there is, it would be but a shallow
Walt Slade pondered all this while he studied the hills. He wondered just how deep the reversal that tilted the valley floor from north to south continued. For upon the possible depth of the reversal depended a nebulous theory that was building up in his mind and might lead to the explanation he sought. Heavy with thought, he rode back down the trail to supervise the final round-up chores.
That evening the various herds were driven to their home pastures where they would be held for a few days until the drive north to the railroad and the shipping pens got under way.
“Best handled round-up I ever had anything to do with,” declared old Tom Mawson. The other owners nodded sober agreement.
The following afternoon Slade rode to Weirton, feeling that he should keep an eye on the activities of the oil town. He did not follow the Chihuahua but rode directly south to the creek before turning west, desiring to study its environs a bit more. Upon reaching the ford he splashed his horse through the water and entered the town. He found Bob Kent busy around his workings. The oilman paused in his activities to greet Slade and have a talk.
“That darn Blaine Richardson has got me bothered,” he confessed. “Yesterday he rode down to the desert with two of his best drillers and a pack mule. He came back toward evening but he didn’t bring the drillers or the mule with him. Looks like he’s establishing a permanent camp down there. I wonder if he has got the right notion and that down there was the real inland sea and the best deposit. I’m half of the notion to buy a hunk of that land from the state on the chance that he might be right.”
Slade shot the oilman an exasperated glance. “Kent,” he said, “even a limited knowledge of geology should tell you that the desert was never part of the inland sea.”
“But that engineer from the Spindletop field said it was,” Kent protested.
“If he did, he lied,” Slade replied shortly. “No certificated engineer would make such a mistake. The desert was at one time but a continuation of the hills to the east and west, part of the shoreline of the sea that covered what is now Weirton Valley. The desert came into being in the course of the subsidence that created the Balcones Fault. It was never under water, at least at no period that is covered by geological and petrological survey, and the period of scientific survey covers the formation of oil pools.”
Kent looked a little blank, but convinced. “And then you’d say there is no oil under the desert?”
“I would hesitate to make such a dogmatic statement,” Slade replied. “We must take into consideration the fact that we do not know what occurs or has occurred in the depths of the earth. Through overflow or seepage there might possibly be some oil under the desert, although I consider it highly improbable. But even if there is, it would be but a shallow
Similar Books
