The Truth About America

by Edward Money

He did so, but he did not give in. "Well, it may be some of them belong to the place, but I guess you brought most of 'em."

He was of the true Yankee type—the worst type on earth. So I cared to say no more, but paid the bill and went elsewhere, finding cleanliness, comfort, and as much courtesy as you look for in America, in the next hotel.

"Denver" is a clean, commodious, and pleasant town enough. There are many of the Yankee type there, but also some very nice people. We spent some days inquiring about ranches, and then made trips out to inspect them. I need not drag the reader with me on these little journeys; we mostly travelled in a light one-horse van, taking our food with us, and, as the weather was charming, camping out at night. Except in the winter, when it is far too cold, at night in any case, Colorado is just the country for this gipsy life. The atmosphere is wonderfully dry, and there is no danger whatever in sleeping outside without any shelter. This free kind of life has always had a great charm for me, and, except in winter, Colorado is just the place for it.

After some time I found a ranch to suit me. I bought it, the cattle, and everything on it. The former owner and his family were not long ere they left, and then my sons entered on their duties. They understood the work, I did not, but I used to potter about and help in any way I could.

The profits on a ranch are derived by breeding cattle and horses, and selling the surplus stock, also from dairy work. Firstly, as to breeding cattle. The procedure is different in different parts. Climate principally regulates it. In Texas, a low latitude (33°), the winters are very mild, and the cattle there are never housed, they wander over the vast plains the year round. In Wyoming, and Montana and Dakota which join it, the cold in winter is intense, and the snow lies long. When the land is snow-bound, cattle, of course, can find no food for themselves, and during such time they have to be sheltered (scarcely housed) and fed. To do this costs money, and it goes without saying that in this respect the warm sites are the better. More, in the cold localities many cattle are lost in hard winters, simply frozen to death. But there is compensation as in most of the actions of nature. The cold localities have better grass in the summer.

In latitudes like Texas there is no necessity to grow crops for winter food. In the cold localities much has to be done in this way. Colorado is between these two extremes, latitude about 38°, nearly the same as San Francisco. But it is far warmer in summer, much colder in winter, than that capital. This is in a great measure due to its being so far inland, and also to the fact that most of the state is high table-land. Thus in Colorado (the snow seldom lies there more than three or four days at a time) the cattle are only sheltered and fed for short periods.

As a rule they calve in the spring. If it is required to increase the stock, only the male two and three years old and any worn out old cows are sold yearly. There is always a market for them; in fact, in spring and summer dealers travel round to the ranches and buy. If the above plan of keeping all the young female stock is followed out, and the mishaps are few, the cattle on a ranch double themselves in three or four years. When the limit a run will carry is attained, all the increase can yearly be sold.

Great numbers of horses are bred on ranches, and it is a question whether these or cattle are the more profitable. Horses are hardier than cattle, stand both heat and cold better. They consequently require less shelter, and also less food in winter, for horses will paw up the snow and find food when cattle cannot do so. They "rustle" better for themselves, as the Americans forcibly express it.

There are no natural enclosures in ranch countries like hedges, though I see not why, in time, there should not be such. In vast plains, such as are found in Texas, I believe ranches are not fenced in at all, and the cattle wander where they will. But in countries like Colorado, where pretty well every acre has an owner, fences are a necessity. The usual one is a barbed wire-fence. This is thus constructed: at distances of 30 or 40 feet, sometimes more, strong poles, 3 feet in the ground, and say 5 feet above it, are set up. Three wires, the lowest say 18 inches from the ground, the second and third, a like distance from the first and second, run from pole to pole, and are attached thereto by iron cleets. This alone, however, would not suffice to keep cattle in the enclosures, for they often charge the fences in great numbers at a time, and would thus easily break through. But the wires are studded at every 18 inches with sharp spikes, which soon teach the cattle that they cannot run against them with impunity. This is why it is called a "barbed wire-fence," and it is a very efficacious one.

On the ranch I had purchased (I called it the Water Ranch as it was exceptionally well watered with two streams running through it), the snow never lies long, not usually more than two or three days after a fall; thus it is only during these short intervals the cattle require to be fed, and in a measure sheltered. But this occurs again and again during the winter, and the food necessary has to be provided and grown during the summer months in the shape of Alfalfa (a peculiar and productive American grass), hay, turnips, and rye. Besides, as all the food the ranch workers require has to be produced at home, there is thus plenty to do in the kitchen-garden, in growing potatoes and other things. Then there is the poultry-yard. Geese, ducks, and fowls are bred in large numbers, and require much attention. Ranch-men naturally live well, for, besides meat and poultry, there is the produce of the dairy, which, in all its shapes—milk by the bucket, cream ad libitum, and butter in abundance—they can revel in. I never was better fed than on the Water Ranch.