In ancient times, as was formerly remarked, every event that excited any degree of interest, was wrought up in verse by the poets, and transmitted, by the aid of memory, from one generation to another. Other circumstances of a public nature, which gave less scope to the imagination, or could scarcely admit of amplification, were engraven on brass or marble, or stamped upon medals. In these different ways the memory of some ancient occurrences was imperfectly preserved, and afforded the means and materials, when writing came into use, to secure contemporaneous events from perishing for ever, and of making them more generally known.

Then suddenly, with the least warning, the sky yellows and the Chergui blows in from the Sahara, stinging the eyes and choking with its sandy, sticky breath.

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He'd hearn tell of deerlicks, and how they were sometimes made. So he started out one Sunday into the woods, with a bag of salt...