Thunder and Lightning Part 13

On June 23, 1887, a young boy, fifteen years of age, living at Montagnat (Ain), was struck while fastening oxen to the door of a stable; an ox was also killed.

At Lagrauliere (Correze), on August 15, 1862, three girls were looking after their flocks. A violent storm burst at about five o'clock, and the thunder growled terribly. The shepherdesses, taken by surprise, had no time to take their flocks in. The two first took shelter under a big chestnut, the third under an oak twenty-five yards away from them. Suddenly lightning struck the chestnut and enveloped the two little refugees. They fell dead. The third fainted, half asphyxiated by the smell of the sulphur. The clothes of the two unfortunate girls who had been struck were burnt, their sabots were broken. Near them there were five sheep, a pig, and a she-a.s.s, which had also been killed by the fluid. The shepherdess's dog had been cut in two.

Sometimes, also, the clap of thunder, when striking men and animals, proves more murderous for the latter than the former, who, however, have sometimes succ.u.mbed.

A diligence was slowly mounting an incline, when suddenly a stroke of lightning interrupted its ascent. An electric ball burst over the heads of the horses, and threw the whole five down, stone dead. The postillion was struck, but not one other person was touched, though the carriage was full of women and children.

There is one peculiarity about this incident which ought to attract our attention--the terrible meteor was not accompanied by any emission of light, nor followed by any reverberation of sound.

In June, 1872, at about two in the afternoon, a farmer at Grange-Forestiere was trying a couple of oxen, which he had just bought at the fair, in a field. Lightning knocked over the man and the animals. Some hours after, the poor farmer was picked up in a pitiable plight. His hair was burnt in parts, also hair on his chest, he was quite deaf, and in a state of absolute prostration. His trousers were unsewn from top to bottom in all four st.i.tchings, his hat was riddled with holes, and his shoes torn off. All the same, he survived the accident. The oxen were killed on the spot.

In fact, as we have already said, when the spark strikes men and animals at the same time, only the former can resist the shock.

In June, 1855, thunder burst over a flock of sheep in the Commune of Saint-Leger-la-Montagne (Haute Vienne); seventy-eight sheep and two watch-dogs were killed on the spot. A woman who was looking after the flock was slightly touched.

On September 26, 1820, lightning struck a labourer who was driving near Sainte Menehould. His two horses were killed; the man escaped with a temporary deafness.

In August, 1852, two out of four oxen were killed, the third was paralyzed on the left side. As to the farmer, he came off with a numbness of the left leg.

Very often a man feels nothing, not even a shock, while the animals beside him fall dead.

Here are some facts--

On February 2, 1859, a herd of pigs were surprised by a water-spout near Liege. One hundred and fifty of these animals perished by the action of the electric fluid, their guides felt nothing.

In 1715, lightning fell on the Abbey of Noirmoutiers, near Tours, and killed twenty-two horses without doing any harm to 150 monks, whose refectory it visited and upset the 150 bottles containing their ration of wine.

In the year IX., lightning killed a horse and a mule near Chartres, sparing the miller who conducted them.

On July 17, 1895, four cows were going along a road, when suddenly they were pushed and thrown roughly to the edge of the road. The old drover who was with them felt nothing except the sensation of a strong and very characteristic odour which he could not define.

In 1812, a fulgurant discharge took place near Mr. Cowen's and killed his dog beside him, without doing him any harm.

In August, 1900, lightning penetrated into a cart-shed, where twelve chickens were taking shelter. The poor things were killed, but a lady who was feeding them was unhurt.

One often asks if lightning strikes birds in flight. This question, so often put, would seem to find an answer in the following facts:--

A lady was looking out of her window, when there was a flash of lightning, accompanied by a great clap of thunder. At the same time she noticed on the gra.s.s a dead gull which she had not seen before.

The people who picked up the bird, affirmed that they found it still hot, and they added that there was a strong smell of sulphur.

Examples of this kind are rare: we have two more--

One day, Mr. W. Murdochs with two friends was looking on at a very violent storm, which spread itself over the Valley of the Ayr. Just then his dog dislodged a flock of ducks which had been sheltered behind an old building. One of the birds began to fly, and as it was cutting through the air, it was struck by lightning and killed as though by a gun.

During a storm in the United States, Mr. Burch saw a flock of wild geese flying by. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning which threw the flock into disorder; six birds fell dead to the ground.

One would have thought that the absence of all communication with the ground ought to protect the graceful winged tribe from lightning; but no, the poor birds have received no mercy from this terrible adversary.

All the same, lightning is less redoubtable for them than the sportsman's gun. It is very seldom that the kings of the air are the victims of the fire of Heaven, but they have another enemy, barbarous, unpardonable Man. Yes, the little earthly Jupiters are infinitely more terrible for the bird-world than the giant of the G.o.ds. They are rarely softened by the seductive grace, the elegance, and the delightful twittering of the charming inhabitants of s.p.a.ce.

In truth, one of the reasons why birds are so rarely struck in their flight is that they foresee the storm, and have the prudence to take shelter before it bursts.

Amongst birds, sparrows are those which suffer most from the electric fluid.

We sometimes find them hanging by their shrivelled claws from telegraph wires or from the branches of trees. But this latter is rather rare. They generally nest high in the trees, and lightning affects the branches much less than the trunk.

We also hear of little caged birds being killed in their iron prison.

One day a canary was in a cage with five others and was killed; the rest were unhurt. The spark was attracted by the metallic bars, and struck the canary, which was no doubt resting on iron.

Fishes in their dark dwellings are no more privileged than other animals. They also frequently receive visits from the lightning, and their sad fate has often proved how dangerous it is to remain near a pool or pond during thunder.

Moreover, why are we recommended always to put the conductor into a well, damp earth, or even into a small pond? It is because water conducts the electric substance admirably.

We can understand that a vast s.p.a.ce of liquid would be a good refuge for lightning, when, after having made several victims on earth, and fearing the vengeance of the conductors, it hurls itself into the water.

More often it drowns itself, and in this it follows the example of the immortal Gribouille; but enough of that. The logic of lightning is still contestable.

However that may be, many examples show us the dangers to which the denizens of rivers, and of the liquid element generally, are exposed.

Not only are fishermen and sailors unanimous in attesting to the ravages wrought by lightning, but the history of electricity has preserved the recollection of memorable disasters, of veritable hecatombs of fish, which they attribute to the fire of heaven.

Arago recounts that on September 17, 1772, lightning fell on the Doubs and killed all the pike and trout which were in the river. The water was soon covered with their corpses which floated, stomach upwards.

A century before, during the year 1672, the lake in the subterranean part of Zirknitz was the theatre of a similar event, even more terrible, on account of the number of victims. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood collected such a number of fish that were struck, that they were able to fill eighteen carts.

In 1879, during a violent storm at night, the electric discharge fell on a little fish-pond in which a number of fish sported. The next morning they were all found floating dead on the surface of the water.

They had the appearance of boiled fish, and their flesh fell to pieces on being touched, just as it would if it had been cooked. There was no injury to be seen, external or internal. The scales and the swimming bladder, which was full of air, had been preserved. The water of the pond remained troubled and muddy the day after the storm, as though the agitation of the tempest had been quite recent.

Here is an observation, similar to the last:--

In 1894, lightning fell on two poplars near Ignon, in the territory of Saulx-le-Duc (Cote-d'Or). A neighbouring pond, which measured 10 yards in length by 5 in width, was also struck. The owner states that all the fish, to the number of about a thousand, were killed.

Another more curious case still:--

One day the fish in an aquarium placed in a drawing-room were struck.

They were all found lying dead on the floor. The gla.s.s which formed the bottom of the vessel was twisted and coated with a thick bed of yellowish substance.

If we study the effects of lightning on animals from the point of view of the injuries which it produces, we can make some very interesting remarks.

More often the hair of animals is injured or burnt. Sometimes the spark acts on the skin over a large surface of the body of the animal.

Thus, two horses had their hair singed nearly all over their bodies, and more particularly on the leg and under the stomach. At other times the hair is only burnt in certain places.

Lightning struck a young four-year-old ox which was red with white spots. It burnt and removed all the white spots and left the red hair.

But generally we find one or more furrows of different kinds. The skin is seldom intact under injured hair. It is nearly always more or less burnt. And one often notices extravasations of blood which correspond to the injuries of the epidermis, in the subcutaneous cellular tissue.

In some cases, the fulminant fluid only attacks the colour of the hair of the animal.

The fracture of the bones or the ablation of a limb is often observed on animals which have been struck.