Sept. 24, 1903. 



THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



613 



definite apprehension, a bodinfj, terrible tiling, unflinchingly real, jet 

 spectral as a dream. The beholder is at first unimpressed l\v any 

 detail, he is overwhelmed by the ensemble of a stupendous panorama, 

 a thousand square miles in extent, that lies wholly beneath the eye, iis 

 if he stood upon a mountain peak instead of the level brink ot a fear- 

 ful chasm in the plateau, whose opposite shore is 13 miles away. A 

 labyrinth of huge architectural forms, endlessly varied in design, 

 fretted with ornamental devices, festooned with lace-like webs formed 

 of talus form the upper cliffs, and painted with every color known to 

 the palette in pure transparent tones of marvelous delicacy. Never 

 was picture more harmonious, never flower moreextiuisitely beautiful. 

 It flashes instant communication of all that architecture and painting 

 and music for a thousand years have gropingly strived to express. It 

 is the soul of Michael Angelo and of Beethoven. 



" A canyon, truly, but not after the accepted type. An intricate 

 system of canyons, rather, each subordinate to the river channel in the 

 midst, which, in turn, is subordinate to the whole effect. That river 

 channel, the profoiindest depth, and actually more than 0000 feet be- 

 low the point of view, is in seeming a rather insigniflcaot trench, 

 attracting the eye more by reason of its somber tone and mysterious 

 suggestion than by an appreciable characteristic of a chasm. It is per- 

 haps five miles distant in a straight line, and its uppermost rims are 

 nearly -10(10 feet beneath the observer, whose measuring capacity is 

 entirely inadequate to the demand made by such magnitudes. One 

 can not believe the distance to be more than a mile, as the crow flies, 

 before descending the wall or attempting some other form ot actual 

 measurement. 



" Mere brain knowledge counts for little against the illusion un- 

 der which the organ of vision is here doomed to labor. Yonder cliff, 

 darkening from white to gray, yellow, and brown as your glance 

 descends, is taller than the Washington Monument. The Auditorium 

 in Chicago would not cover one-half its perpendicular span. Yet it 

 does not greatly impress you. You idly toss a pebble toward it, and 

 are surprised to note how far the missile falls short. By and by you 

 will learn that it is a good half mile distant, and when you go down 

 the trail you will gain an abiding sense of its real proportions. Yet, 

 relatively, it is an unimportant detail of the scene. Were Vulcan to 

 east it bodily into the chasm directly beneath your feet, it would pass 

 for a bowlder, if, indeed, it were discoverable to the unaided eye. 



" Yet the immediate chasm itself is only the first step ot a long 

 terrace that leads down to the innermost gorge and the river. Roll a 

 heavy stone to the rim and let it go. It falls sheer the height of a 

 church or an Eiffel Tower, according to the point selected for such 

 pastime, and explodes like a bomb on a projecting ledge. If, happily, 

 any considerable fragments remain, they bound onward like elastic 

 Imlls, leaping in wild parabola from point to point, snapping trees like 

 straws; bursting, crashing, thundering down the declivities until they 

 make a last plunge over the brink of a void; and then there comes 

 languidly up the cliff sides a faint, distant roar, and your boulder that 

 had withstood the buffets of centuries lies scattered as wide as 

 Wyclift'e's ashes, although the final frangment has lodged only a little 

 way, so to speak, below the rim. Such performances are frequently 

 given in these amphitheaters without human aid, by the mere under- 

 mining of the rim, or perhaps it is here that Sisyphus rehearses his 

 unending task. Often in the silence of night some tremendous frag- 

 ment has been heard crashing from terrace to terrace with shocks like 

 thunder-peal. 



" The spectacle is so symmetrical, and so completely excludes the 

 outside world and its accustomed standards, it is with difficulty one 

 can acquire any notion of its immensity. Were it half as deep, half 

 as broad, it would be no less bewildering, so utterly does it baffle 

 human grasp." 



Well, iM had seen the Grand Canyon. And we will never forget 

 it. Oh, how our legs ached ! Why, for several days afterward we 

 could scarcely walk. We preferred to sit down and take it easy. 

 Even after getting to Los Angeles we could scarcely go up and down 

 stairs. Mr. Root didn't complain any, but we knew from the way he 

 walked — sort of softly like, as if fearing to step on a nest ot eggs— he 

 must be pretty stiff and sore. 



It had been announced that in the evening there would be a praise 

 service in the hotel parlor. So at about 7 ;30 a number gathered again 

 and sang for an hour. And so closed a Sunday at the Grand Canyon. 



But, hold on I it wasn't closed, either, for it was reported that one 

 of our bee-keepers was missing ! Think of it! He might have fallen 

 over the precipice into the Canyon ! 



It was Mr. Kluck. Some one had seen him start down the trail at 

 5 p.m. It was now 9 o'clock, and no Mr. Kluck could be found. Mrs. 

 Kluck was worrying about him greatly in the car. So we and some 

 others began to consider starting a searching party down the Canyon. 



By the way, there is a private telephone that connects with the 

 tents down in the Canyon below. But after much vigorous ringing it 

 was impossible to raise any one at the lower end, so we could not in- 

 quire whether or not Mr. Kluck had been there. 



But in a little while who should come stomping in but Mr. Kluck 

 himself? He had walked down to the tents and back since 5 o'clock '. 

 It must have been a very dangerous trip after dark. 



We felt quite certain Mrs. Kluck would settle the matter with her 

 re-discovered partner just as soon as she found a suitable time and 

 place. He will hardly runaway again — not soon. He seemed quite 

 willing to sit very still all the next day, evidently meditating— and 

 resting his tired legs. 



It was during a meal at the Grand Canyon hotel that Mr. Root 

 turned to a young lady boarder, who had just seated', herself beside 

 him at the table, and said, " Can I have some pudding?" He evidently 

 was in deep meditation, and thought it was a waitress who had just 

 come his way. The young lady didn't get him any pudding ! 



During both nights at the Canyon we were awakened by the mo.st 

 unearthly sharp cries, or barks, we had ever heard. We at first 

 thought it might be Indians, but discovered later that it was a bunch 

 of coyotes holding a midnight " convention." Evidently one of their 

 number was trying to introduce some amendments to the Constitution, 

 and the rest of the crowd objected, and all spoke at once! We don't 

 say that was really the cause of their trouble, but surely there was 

 trouble, if we might judge from the coyotic sounds that pierced the 

 midnight air. 



On Monday morning, at 9:15, the car started back to Williams, 

 arriving there about noon. Next week we will go on to Los Angeles. 



I Convention Proceedin§s j 



The Los Angeles Convention. 



Report of the Proceeding's of the 34th Annual 



Meeting- of the National Bee-Keepers' 



Association, Held at Los Ang-eles, 



Calif., Aug-. 18, 19 and 20, 



1903. 



(Continued from page 598.) 

 Mr. J. A. Reed then spoke as follows, on 

 THE CITRUS FRUIT EXCHANQE— ITS WORK AND 

 METHODS. 



I will say, to begin with, that the citrus fruit industry- 

 dates baclt quite a number of years in Southern California. 

 Some 12 or IS years ago, when I first commenced to know 

 something- about this industry, there were, comparatively 

 speaking, few oranges shipped from Southern Califortiia. 

 The men who owned oranges in those days had little diffi- 

 culty in selling them. It was the custom then to go out and 

 examine a man's orchard, see about how many oranges he 

 had, and then make him a lump offer for his orchard. There 

 were a good many buyers in the field ; they had money, and 

 it was a speculative business. That was by the commission 

 men, and these men paid them good returns. 



It was not difficult at all to sell oranges in those days, 

 because there were a good many buyers in the field, they 

 were competing against each other, and there were, com- 

 paratively speaking, very few oranges. The demand was 

 more than the supply. But on account of the prices they 

 received for their oranges, there was no inducement for 

 men who came here with money to set out orange groves. 



In a few years, from shipping a few thousand cars, we 

 had anywhere from 15,000 to 16,000, and after a few years 

 we had 26,000 car-loads shipped out of Southern California. 

 When the oranges began to increase, we found that the 

 buyers were not nearly so anxious to buy. One reason was, 

 that they could not make as good profits as they had been 

 doing ; another reason, they said, was that the orange grow- 

 ers were like all other growers all over the United States— 

 they were not business men, were not capable of handling 

 their own business. All they could do would be to organize 

 to look after their products in the East. 



There was an organization formed, the object of which 

 was to do away with competition from the buyers, and they 

 laid out certain districts, simply took and handled the fruit 

 for us, and made the grower as good returns as their con- 

 science would allow them. Several years ago, the more 

 oranges they grew the poorer the grower became at the cad 

 of the season. On man, of whom I can tell you, had a good 

 crop, 12 car-loads, and when he got through the first year's 

 business he owed the firm S1800 for the privilege of growing 

 and shipping. This is one instance. 



In order to assert their rights, and get something for 

 their labor, they realized they must organize, that they 

 must get together, and co-operate, and the otily way to co- 

 operate was to get every grower who would join in with the 



