Ardeidæ.—Ardeineæ (herons).
Botaurineæ (bitterns).
Scopineæ (ombrette).
Cancomineæ (boatbill).
Balænicepineæ (whale-headed stork).

All the whale-headed storks that have been received up to the present have come from the region of the White Nile; but Mr. H. Johnston, who traveled in Congo in 1882, asserts that he met with the bird on the River Cunene between Benguela and Angola, where it was even very common. Mr. Johnston's assertion has been confirmed by other travelers worthy of credence, but, unfortunately, the best of all confirmations is wanting, and that is a skin of this magnificent wader. We can, therefore, only make a note of Mr. Johnston's statement, and hope that some traveler may one day enrich our museums with some balæniceps from these regions. The presence of this bird in the southwest of Africa is, after all, not impossible; yet there is one question that arises: Was the balæniceps observed by Mr. Johnston of the same species as that of the White Nile, or was it a new type that will increase this family, which as yet comprises but one genus and one species—the Balæniceps rex?—Le Naturaliste.

THE CALIFORNIA RAISIN INDUSTRY.

Fresno County, for ten miles about Fresno, furnishes the best example of the enormous increase in values which follows the conversion of wheat fields and grazing land into vineyards and orchards. Not even Riverside can compare with it in the rapid evolution of a great source of wealth which ten years ago was almost unknown. What has transformed Fresno from a shambling, dirty resort of cowboys and wheat ranchers into one of the prettiest cities in California is the raisin grape. Though nearly all fruits may be grown here, yet this is pre-eminently the home of the raisin industry, and it is the raisin which in a single decade has converted 50,000 acres of wheat fields into vineyards. No other crop in California promises such speedy returns or such large profits as the raisin grape, and as the work on the vineyards is not heavy, the result has been a remarkable growth of the infant industry. It is estimated that in this county, which contains 5,000,000 acres and is nearly as large as Massachusetts, there are 400,000 acres that may be irrigated and are specially adapted to the grape. As the present crop on about 25,000 acres in full bearing is valued at $6,000,000, some idea may be formed of the revenue that will come to the Fresno vineyardists when all this choice valley land is planted and in full bearing. And what makes the prospect of permanent prosperity surer is the fact that nine out of ten new settlers are content with twenty-acre tracts, as one of these is all which a man can well care for, while the income from this little vineyard will average $4,000 above all expenses, a larger income than is enjoyed by three-quarters of the professional men throughout the country.

The raisin industry in California is very young. To be sure, dried grapes have been known since the time of the Mission Fathers, but the dried mission grape is not a raisin. The men who thirty years ago sent over to Europe for the choicest varieties of wine grapes imported among other cuttings the Muscatel, the Muscat of Alexandria, and the Feher Zagos; the three finest raisin grapes of Spain. But the raisin, like the fig, requires skillful treatment, and for years the California grower made no headway. He read all that had been written on the curing of the raisin; several enterprising men went to Spain to study the subject at first hand; but despite all this no progress was made. Finally several of the pioneer raisin men of Fresno cut loose from all precedent, dried their grapes in the simple and natural manner and made a success of it. From that time, not over ten years ago, the growth of the industry has eclipsed that of every other branch of horticulture in the State, and the total value of the product promises soon to exceed the value of the orange crop or the yield of wine and brandy.

It required a good deal of nerve for the pioneers of Fresno County to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in bringing water upon what the old settlers regarded as a desert, fit only to grow wheat in a very wet season. In other parts of the State the Mission Fathers had dug ditches and built aqueducts, so that the settlers who came after them found a well devised water system, which they merely followed. But in Fresno no one had ever tried to grow crops by irrigation. When Fremont came through there from the mountains he found many wild cattle feeding on the rank grass that grew as high as the head of a man on horseback. The herds of the native Californians were almost equally wild. The country was one vast plain which in summer glowed under a sun that was tropical in its intensity. As late as 1860 one could travel for a day without seeing a house or any sign of habitation. The country was owned by great cattle growers, who seldom rode over their immense ranches, except at the time of the annual "round-up" of stock. About thirty years ago a number of large wheat growers secured big tracts of land around Fresno. At their head was Isaac Friedlander, known as the wheat king of the Pacific Coast. Friedlander would have transformed this country had not financial ruin overcome him. His place was taken by others, like Chapman, Easterby, Eisen and Hughes—men who believed in fruit growing and who had the courage to carry on their operations in the face of repeated failures.

The great development of Fresno has been due entirely to the colony system, which has also built up most of the flourishing cities of Southern California. In 1874 the first Fresno colony was started by W.S. Chapman. He cut up six sections of land into 20-acre tracts, and brought water from King's River. The colonists represented all classes of people, and though they made many disastrous experiments, with poor varieties of grapes and fruit, still there is no instance of failure recorded, and all who have held on to their land are now in comfortable circumstances. Some of the settlers in this colony were San Francisco school teachers. They obtained their 20-acre tracts for $400, and many of them retired on their little vineyards at the end of five or six years. One lady, named Miss Austen, had the foresight to plant all her property in the best raisin grapes, and for many years drew a larger annual revenue from the property than the whole place cost her. The central colony now has an old established look. The broad avenues are lined with enormous trees; many of the houses are exceedingly beautiful country villas. What a transformation has been wrought here may be appreciated when it is said that 150 families now produce $400,000 a year on the same land which twenty years ago supported but one family, which had a return of only $35,000 from wheat. The history of this one colony of six sections of old wheat land is the key to Fresno's prosperity. It proves better than columns of argument, or facts or figures, the immense return that careful, patient cultivation may command in this home of the grape. Near this colony are a half-dozen others which were established on the same general plan. The most noteworthy is the Malaga colony, founded by G.G. Briggs, to whom belongs the credit of introducing the raisin grape into Fresno.

Fresno City is the center from which one may drive in three directions and pass through mile after mile of these colonies, all showing signs of the wealth and comfort that raisin making has brought. Only toward the west is the land still undeveloped, but another five years promise to see this great tract, stretching away for twenty miles, also laid out in small vineyards and fruit farms. Fresno is the natural railroad center of the great San Joaquin Valley. It is on the main line of the Southern Pacific and is the most important shipping point between San Francisco and Los Angeles. The new line of the Santa Fe, which has been surveyed from Mojave up through the valley, passes through Fresno. Then there are three local lines that have the place for a terminus, notably the mountain railway, which climbs into the Sierra, and which it is expected will one day connect with the Rio Grande system and give a new transcontinental line. Here are also building round houses and machine shops of the Southern Pacific Company. These, with new factories, packing houses, and other improvements, go far to justify the sanguine expectations of the residents. There has never been a boom in Fresno, but a high railroad official recently, in speaking of the growth of the city, said: "Fresno in five years will be the second city in California." This prediction he based on the wonderful expansion of its resources in the last decade and the substantial character of all the improvements made. It is a pretty town, with wide, well-paved streets, handsome modern business blocks, and residence avenues that would do credit to any old-settled town of the East. The favorite shade tree is the umbrella tree, which has the graceful, rounded form of the horse chestnut, but with so thick a foliage that its shadow is not dappled with sunlight. Above it is an intensely dark green, while viewed from below it is the most delicate shade of pea green. Rivaling this in popularity is the pepper tree, also an evergreen, and the magnolia, fan palm, eucalyptus, or Australian blue gum, and the poplar. All these trees grow luxuriantly. It has also become the custom in planting a vineyard to put a row of the white Adriatic fig trees around the place, and to mark off ten or twenty acre tracts in the same way. The dark green foliage of the fig is a great relief to the eye when the sun beats down on the sandy soil. Leading out of Fresno are five driveways. The soil makes a natural macadam, which dries in a few hours. Throughout the year these roads are in good condition for trotting, and nearly every raisin grower is also an expert in horseflesh, and has a team that will do a mile in less than 2:30. The new race course is one of the finest in the State. Toward the west from Fresno has recently been opened a magnificent driveway, which promises in a few years to rival the Magnolia ave. of Riverside. This is called Chateau Fresno ave. It has two driveways separated by fan palms and magnolias, while along the outer borders are the same trees with other choice tropical growths, that will one day make this avenue well worth traveling many miles to see. This is the private enterprise of Mr. Theodore Kearney, who made a fortune in real estate, and it is noteworthy as an illustration of the large way in which the rich Californian goes about any work in which he takes an interest. Probably the finest avenue in Fresno is the poplar-lined main driveway through the Barton vineyard. It is a mile in length, and the trees, fully fifty feet high, stand so thickly together that when in full leaf they form a solid wall of green. The vineyard, which is a mile square, is also surrounded by a single row of these superb poplars.

A visit to one of the great raisin vineyards near Fresno is a revelation in regard to the system that is necessary in handling large quantities of grapes. The largest raisin vineyard in the State, if not in the world, is that of A.B. Butler. It comprises 640 acres, of which a trifle over 600 acres is planted to the best raisin grapes. Butler was a Texas cowboy, and came to Fresno with very little capital. He secured possession of a section of land, planted it to grapes; he read everything he could buy on raisin making, but found little in the books that was of any value. So he made a trip to Spain, and inspected all the processes in the Malaga district. He gathered many new ideas. One of the most valuable suggestions was in regard to prunings and keeping the vine free from the suckers that sap its vitality. When he returned from this trip and passed through Los Angeles County he saw that the strange disease which was killing many hundred acres of vines was nothing else than the result of faulty prunings—the retention of suckers until they gained such lusty growth that their removal proved fatal to the vine. His vineyard is as free from weeds and grass as a corner of a well kept kitchen garden. The vine leaves have that deep glossy look which betrays perfect health. When my visit was made the whole crop was on trays spread out in the vineyard. These trays had been piled up in layers of a dozen—what is technically known as boxed—as a shower had fallen the previous night, and Mr. Butler was uncertain whether he would have a crop of the choicest raisins or whether he would have to put his dried grapes in bags, and sell them for one-third of the top price. Fortunately the rain clouds cleared away. The crop was saved and the extreme hot weather that followed made the second crop almost as valuable as the first.