clump of orchard grass. She had obviously got a

clump of orchard grass. She had obviously got a dowsing signal, and was beckoning us to join her. Julia and I ran out, and heard the good news. There was running water under the turf, right at that spot, at a crystal-measured depth of “more than two feet, but less than three.”

I grabbed a long-handled shovel, took off a neat circle of turf, and began digging. One spit down with the shovel blade I knew something was different. There was no hard rock, just good, reddish loam. I continued to dig, making a straight-sided hole with earth piled up around the edge.

At two feet it was still the same easy-to-dig soil, and I continued down, following the crystal’s orders. Six inches further I dug very carefully, because if there was an underground stream, it might break through the walls and flood the hole. But the hole stayed dry.

Even at a depth of 36 inches as measured by a yardstick, it was still dry. There was not the slightest sign of mud or moisture.

I looked up at Hazel. She had put her crystal away, and was standing on the earth beside the hole. Having gone down this far, I was not for giving up. Running water is worth having on a farm at any depth.

“Try your crystal again,” I said, “maybe the water is a bit further down.”

“No, I haven’t done it right. I’m only half way through my dowsing course, and there are things I don’t know about yet. Fill in the hole, and I’ll come back when I’m fully qualified,” said Hazel in a matter-of-fact manner. She was not yet a professional dowser, and so there was no consulting fee. She said I should look upon it as a free demonstration.

I thanked her for coming, and she went off, presumably to continue her studies. But I didn’t fill in the hole as she said. That yard-deep hole was a wonderful opportunity for a soil test. All the while I was digging, I was wondering why I hadn’t hit the rock at a depth of 15 inches as the