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system and the separate-pipe system. In the double-pipe system fresh water is
forced into the cavity through an outer pipe and the heavier solution of salt and
water rises bubbling through the second pipe, or inner pipe, inserted within the
larger. In the separate-pipe system, two pipes, separated by several yards, are used,
fresh water being forced through one, the salt water solution, the salt being
dissolved in the fresh water, rising through the other. The separate-pipe system is,
by most salt masters, regarded as the most efficient. An advantage of the double-
pipe system is that only a single tap well need be drilled. Both systems require
pumping, of course. But much of the salt at Klima comes from its famous brine
pits These pits are of two kinds,  open and  closed. Men, in the closed pits,
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actually descend and, wading, or on rafts, negotiate the sludge itself, filling their
vessels and later, eventually, pouring their contents into the lift sacks, on hooks,
worked by windlasses from the surface. The  harvesting vessel, not the retaining
vessel, used is rather like a perforated cone with a handle, to which is attached a
rope. It is dragged through the sludge and lifted, the free water running from the
vessel, leaving within the sludge of salt, thence to be poured into the retaining
vessels, huge, wooden tubs. The retaining vessels are then emptied later into the
lift sacks, a ring on which fits over the rope hooks. In places, the  open pits, the
brine pits are exposed on the surface, where they are fed by springs from the
underground rivers, which prevents their dessication by evaporation, which would
otherwise occur almost immediately in the Tahari temperatures. Men do not last
long in the open pits. The same underground seepage which, in places, fills the
brine pits, in other places, passing through salt-free strata, provides Klima with its
fresh water. It has a salty taste like much of the water of the Tahari but it is
completely drinkable, not having been filtered through the salt accumulations. It
contains only the salt normal in Tahari drinking water. The salt in the normal
Tahari fresh water, incidentally, is not without its value, for, when drunk,
it helps to some extent, though it is not in itself sufficient, to prevent salt loss in
animals and men through sweating. Salt, of course, like water, is essential to life.
Sweating is dangerous in the Tahari. This has something to do with the normally
graceful, almost languid movements of the nomads and animals of the area. The
heavy garments of the Tahari, too, have as two of their main objectives the
prevention of water loss, and the retention of moisture on the skin, slowing water
loss by evaporation. One can permit profuse perspiration only where one has
ample water and salt.
Besides the mines and pits of the salt districts, there are warehouses and offices, in
which complicated records are kept, and from which shipments to the isolated,
desert storage areas are arranged. There are also processing areas where the salt is
freed of water and refined to various degrees of quality, through a complicated
system of racks and pans, generally exposed to the sun. Slaves work at these,
raking, stirring, and sifting. There are also the molding sheds where the salt is
pressed into the large cylinders, such that they may be roped together and
eventually he laden on pack kaiila. The salt is divided into nine qualities. Each
cylinder is marked with its quality, the name of its district, and the sign of that
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district s salt master.
Needless to say, Klima contains as well, incidental to the salt industry entered
there, the ancillary supports of these mining and manufacturing endeavors, such as
its kitchens and commissaries, its kennels and eating sheds, its discipline pits, its
assembly areas, its smithies and shops, its quarters for guards and scribes, an
infirmary for them, and so many respects Klima resembles a community, save that
it differs in at least two significant respects. It contains neither children, nor
women.
When we had approached Klima Hassan had said to me.  Leave the bit of silk
about your wrist in the crusts, hiding it.
 Why? I had asked.
 It is slave silk, he said,  and it bears, still, the scent of a woman.
 Why should I leave it? I asked.
 Because, at Klima, he said,  men will kill you for it.
I hid the bit of silk in the crusts, at the edge of one of the low, white plastered
buildings.
The man who spoke was T Zshal, Master of Kennel 804.  You are free to leave
Klima whenever you wish, he said.  None is here held against his will.
He stood before us.
We sat on the floor of the shed, naked, together. We were tied together by the
neck, by a light rope. It would have sufficed, truly, to hold only girls. Yet none of
us parted it; none tore it from him.
 I do not jest, said the man.
We had been four days now at Klima. We had been well watered and adequately
fed. We had been kept in the shade. The rope had been placed on us when we had
straggled in from the desert, to keep us together. We were told not to remove it;
we did not remove it. Four men, however, had been cut from it. They had died of
exposure, from the march to Klima. Thus, in the end, all told, only fifteen had
survived the march.
 No, laughed T Zshal.  I jest not!
He wore desert boots, canvas trousers, baggy, a red sash; in the sash was thrust a
dagger, curved. He was bare-chested, and hairy; he wore kaffiyeh and agal, though
of rep-cloth, the cording, too, of rep-cloth, twisted into narrow cord. He was
bearded. He carried a whip, the  snake, coiled, symbol of his authority over us.
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Behind him, armed with scimitars, stood two guards, they, too, bare-chested, in
flat rep-cloth turbans. Light entered the kennel from an aperture in the ceiling.
He approached us. Several shrank back. He drew the curved dagger and slashed
the light rope from our throats.
 You are free to go, he said.
He strode to the door of the kennel and thrust it open. Outside we could see the
sun on the crusts, the desert beyond.
 Go, he laughed.  Go!
Not one of the men moved.
 Ah, said he,  you choose to remain. That is your choice. Very well, I accept it.
But if you remain you must do so on my terms. He suddenly snapped the whip. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]