MORE OF IRRIGATION.

I have thus far considered Irrigation with special reference to those limited, yet very considerable districts, which are traversed or bordered by living streams, and, having a level or slightly rolling surface, present obvious facilities for and incitements to the operation. Such are the valleys of the Platte, and of nearly or quite all its affluents after they leave the Rocky Mountains; such is the valley of the upper Arkansas; such the valleys of the Smoky Hill and the Republican, so far down as Irrigation may be considered necessary. Irrigation on all these seems to me inevitable, and certain to be speedily, though capriciously, effected.

I believe a dam across either fork of the Platte, at any favorable point above their junction, raising the surface of the stream six feet, at a cost not exceeding $10,000, would suffice to irrigate completely not less than fifty square miles of the valley below it, while serving at the same time to furnish power for mills and factories to a very considerable extent; for the need of Irrigation is not incessant, but generally confined to two or three months per annum, and all of the volume of the stream not needed for Irrigation could be utilized as power. Thus the valleys of the few constant water-courses of the Plains may come at an early day to employ and subsist a dense and energetic population, engaged in the successful prosecution alike of agriculture and manufactures, while belts, groves, and forests, of choice, luxuriant timber, will diversify and embellish regions now bare of trees, and but thinly covered with dead herbage from June until the following April.

But, when we rise above the bluffs, and look off across the blank, bleak areas where no living water exists, the problem becomes more difficult, and its solution will doubtless be much longer postponed. To a stranger, these bleak uplands seem sterile; and, though such is not generally the fact, the presumption will repel experiments which involve a large initial outlay. The railroad companies, which now own large tracts of these lands, will be obliged either to demonstrate their value, or to incite individuals and colonists to do it by liberal concessions. As the case stands to-day, most of these lands, which would have been dear at five cents per acre before the roads were built, could not be sold at any price to actual settlers, even with the railroad in plain sight, because of the dearth of fuel and timber, and because also the means of rendering them fruitful and their cultivation profitable are out of reach of the ordinary pioneer. Hence, so long as the valleys of the living streams proffer such obvious invitations to settlement and tillage, by the aid of Irrigation, I judge that the higher and dryer plains will mainly be left to the half-savage herdsmen who rear cattle and sheep without feeding and sheltering them, by giving them the range of a quarter-section to each bullock, and submitting to the loss of a hundred head or so after each great and cold snow-storm, as an unavoidable dispensation of Providence.

But in process of time even the wild herdsmen will be softened into or replaced by regular farmers, plowing and seeding for vegetables and small grains, sheltering their habitations with trees, and sending their children to school. This change involves Irrigation; and the following are among the ways in which it will be effected:

The Plains are nowhere absolutely flat (as I presume the "desert" of Sahara is not), but diversified by slopes, and swells, and gentle ridges or divides, affording abundant facilities for the distribution of water. A well, sunk on the crest of one of these divides, will be filled with living water at a depth ranging from 50 to 100 feet. A windmill of modest dimensions placed over this well will be rarely stopped for want of impelling power: Wind being, next to space, the thing most abundant on the Plains. A reservoir or pond covering three or four acres may be made adjacent to the well at a small cost of labor, by excavating slightly and using the earth to form an embankment on the lower side. The windmill, left alone, will fill the reservoir during the windy Winter and Spring months with water soon warmed in the sun, and ready to be drawn off as wanted throughout the thirsty season of vegetable growth and maturity. Carefully saved, the product of one well will serve to moisten and vivify a good many acres of grass or tillage.

Such is the retail plan applicable to the wants of solitary farmers; but I hope to see it supplemented and invigorated by the extensive introduction of Artesian wells, whereof two, by way of experiment, are now in progress at Denver and Kit Carson respectively.

I need not here describe the Artesian well, farther than to say that it is made by boring to a depth ranging from 700 to more than a 1000 feet, tubing regularly from the top downward until a stream is reached which will rise to and above the surface, flowing over the top of the tube in a stream often as large as an average stove-pipe. Such a well, after supplying a settlement or modest village with water, may be made to fill a reservoir that will sufficiently irrigate a thousand cultivated acres. Its water will usually be warmer than though obtained from near the surface, and hence better adapted to Irrigation.

Of course, the Artesian well is costly, and will not soon be constructed for uses purely agricultural; but the railroads traversing the Plains and the Great Basin will sometimes be compelled to resort to one without having use for a twentieth part of the water they thus entice from the bowels of the earth; and that which they cannot use they will be glad to sell for a moderate price, thus creating oases of verdure and bounteous production. The palpable interest of railroads in dotting their long lines of desolation with such cheering contrasts of field and meadow and waving trees, render nowise doubtful their hearty coöperation with any enterprising pioneer who shall bring the requisite capital, energy, knowledge, and faith, to the prosecution of the work.

These are but hasty suggestions of methods which will doubtless be multiplied, varied, and improved upon, in the light of future experience and study. And when the very best and most effective methods of subduing the Plains to the uses of civilized man shall have been discovered and adopted, there will still remain vast areas as free commons for the herdsmen and sporting-grounds for the hunter of the Elk and the Antelope, after the Buffalo shall have utterly disappeared.