The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1886-03-26


During the winter of 1871 / en-
gagged in the handling OF Texas cattle
in the semi arid belt of Kansas. / had
provided no food for my stock. l
knew that cattle could and did winter
on the plains far north and west of
where | was but did not know that
there was a difference in the nutritious
qualities of the different prairie grass
es. | did not understand the peculiar
tiles of the climate of the semi-arid
belt, nor the effects of rain falling on
dead grass. Stupid of me of course,
but had plenty of company. My
neiphbors were bright Germans, intel
ligent Englishmen, and keen Ameri-
cans from almost every State in the
Union. We were hopeful band,
young, strong, and eager. When we
gathered into our wretched novels
o'nights, aud the pipes were glowing,
our talk was of cattle, cattle, cattle
The sales of steers off the range at six
cents per pound, live weight, made the
previous spring, were strongly dwelt
upon. | was repeatedly assured that
the Kansas winters were so mild that
| would not need coat. The height
the new prairie grass would surely be
on the LIST of March was measured on
table legs by outstreached and dirty
index fingers for my instruction and
encouragement. There was not one
of all the band of eager men who rode
the Kansas plains in those days who
did not firmly believe that our fortunes
were made. The country was full of
cattle. November came in with biz-
zard, aud, with slight Interruptions,
kindly allowed by Nature for the pur-
pose of affording us opportunities to
skin dead cattle, the blizzard lasted
until March, and the cold, stormy
weather for two months longer. There
was no new grass until the middle of
May. In all the Texas herds held in
Kansas the losses were heavy. Hard
ly herd lost less than 50 per cent,
aud 60, 20, and so per cent. losses were
common. BY spring we learned that
great herds of heavy beef cattle, held
ON the Smoky, Cottonwood, aud Al
kansas rivers, had been frozen on The
range, and that the Texans had sad.
died their horses and gone home. The
creeks were damned with the decay
lug carcasses of cattle. The air was
heavy with the stencil of decaying
animals. The crueties Of the business
of starving cattle TO death were vivid
ly impressed on me. Every wagon
sent from the cattle ranges to the rail
road towns was loaded with hides.
The next summer, bankruptcy stalked
over the Kansas plains and struck men
down. Our trouble was that none of
us knew that the tail blue-joint grass
was worthless for winter FEED unless it
were made into hay, none of us knew
that the fall rains had washed the nutri-
ment out of it, and none of us knew
that about once in ten years there is
hard winter in the far West during
which the mercury mndestly retires in.
to the bulb of the Thermometer, and
blizzard chases blizzard over the plains
in quick succession. Some of us learn.
ed the lesson at once; others, who
claimed that the cattle needed protect
ion, not food, erected sheds, which
proved to be death-traps, the cattle
stacking" under them during cold
weather, and tried it again, and went
into bankruptcy promptly after the
second venture. AS it was in Kansas
so it is, in less degree, in the SOCIAL
I'd 'ca,tle country" A wet autumn,
followed oy hard winter, kills the
cattle held on Northern ranges by the
,housand.-FRANK WILKEson, in Har-
pers Magazine for april