FIG. 159.—A WESTERN HARVEST SCENE (RIGHT SECTION OF VIEW).
With the self-binding harvester performing the work of twenty men, cutting and binding the grain, and arranging the bundles in windrows, it would seem that perfection in this art had been reached, but the tendency of the age is to do things on a constantly increasing scale, and so the latest developments in harvesters comprise a mammoth machine ([Fig. 157]) propelled across the grain fields by steam, and which by the same power cuts a swath from 26 to 28 feet wide, threshes it at once as it moves along, blows out the chaff, and puts the grain in bags at the rate of three bags per minute, each bag containing one hundred and fifteen pounds, and requiring two expert bag sewers to take the grain away from the spout, sew the bags, and dump them on the ground. Seventy-five acres a day is its task. A companion piece to this machine is illustrated in [Fig. 158], which shows the same power utilized for planting. A powerful steam traction engine of fifty horse power hauls across the field a planting combination of sixteen ten-inch plows, four six-foot harrows and a seeding drill in the rear. Such great reaping machines only find useful application in the enormous wheat fields of California and the Pacific Coast States, where the dry climate permits the grain to ripen and dry sufficiently while standing in the field. Moreover, only the heads of the grain are cut, the straw being left standing. Some conception of the enormous scale upon which grain is raised in the Western States may be gotten from the dimensions of the farms. It is said that Dr. Glenn’s wheat farm comprises 45,000 acres; the Dalrymples’, in North Dakota, 70,000; and Mr. Mitchell, in the San Joaquin Valley, in California, has 90,000 acres. The Dalrymple farms in 1893 had 54,000 acres in wheat, and employed 283 self-binding reapers to harvest the crop. There is a single unbroken wheat field on the banks of the San Joaquin River, near the town of Clovis, in Madera County, California, which comprises 25,000 acres, or nearly forty square miles of wheat—a veritable sea of waving grain. The field is nearly square; each side is a little over six miles long. If its shape were changed to the width of one mile, the field would then be forty miles long. It has been said of the grain fields of the West, that the men and teams eat breakfast at one end of a furrow, take dinner in the middle of the row, and at night camp and sup at the end of the same row. With a field of such proportions it is not difficult to see how this may be true. The cultivation and garnering of crops from such vast areas can only be appreciated by comparisons. If it were one man’s work to plow such a field, even with a double gang plow, cutting a furrow twenty-four inches wide, he would travel 105,600 miles, which would be equivalent to going around the world four times. If he plowed twenty miles a day, it would take 5,280 days. To harrow would require as long, and to plant would take about the same time, or about forty-three years altogether. A full lifetime would be required to plant the crop, and a second generation would be required to reap it. But great results require great agencies, and so great labor-saving machines, operated by armies of men, are brought into requisition, and with these the crop is both planted and reaped. A long procession of self-binding harvesters, following close one behind the other, makes quick work of it, and before the weather changes this great field is mowed, its crop garnered, and bread supplied for the hungry of all lands.
The exports of wheat to foreign lands in 1898 were 148,231,261 bushels, worth $145,684,659, and the exports of wheat flour for the same year were 15,349,943 barrels, worth $69,263,718. The total yield of wheat in the United States for 1898 was 675,148,705 bushels.
With the fertile earth, and its prolific inventors, the United States has become the richest country in the world. What its future is to be no man may say, but its destiny is not yet fulfilled, and it is pregnant with potential possibilities.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
Vulcanized Rubber.
[Early Use of Caoutchouc by the Indians]—[Collection of the Gum]—[Early Experiments Failures]—[Goodyear’s Persistent Experiments]—[Nathaniel Hayward’s Application of Sulphur to the Gum]—[Goodyear’s Process of Vulcanization]—[Introduction of His Process Into Europe]—[Trials and Imprisonment for Debt]—[Rubber Shoe Industry]—[Great Extent and Variety of Applications]—[Statistics].
Most all important inventions have grown into existence by slow stages of development, and by successive contributions from many minds, not a few having descended by gradual processes of evolution from preceding centuries. Vulcanized rubber, however, is not of this class. It belongs exclusively to the Nineteenth Century, and owes its existence to the tireless energy of one man. The value of the crude gum had been previously speculated upon, and for years attempts had been made to utilize it, but not until Goodyear invented his process of vulcanizing it did it have any real value. This process was an important, distinct and unique step, entirely the work of Mr. Goodyear, and it has never been superseded nor improved upon to any extent. Charles Goodyear was born in New Haven, December 29, 1800, and his life, beginning two days in advance of the Nineteenth Century, furnishes an extraordinary illustration of the struggles and trials of the inventor against adverse fortune, and is a pathetic example of self denial, indefatigable labor, and unrequited toil. Of feeble health, small stature, poor, and frequently in prison for debt, he made the development of this art the paramount object of his life, and with a pious faith and unfaltering courage for thirty years he devoted himself to this work. Money he cared nothing for, except in so far as it was necessary to carry on his work, and he died July 1, 1860, poor in this world’s goods, but rich in the consciousness of the great benefit conferred by his invention upon the human race.