THE IRRIGATION AGE. 



867 



CORRESPONDENCE 



THE EXPERIENCE OF A COLLEGE PROFESSOR 

 ON AN IRRIGATED RANCH 



*Bv MONTGOMERY MOORE, A. M., PH. D. 



The first trip across the ocean, usually brings out all there 

 is in a man. During his mal-de-mer (sea sickness), he con- 

 signs everything to the briny deep. He is at war with him- 

 self and his more fortunate neighbors and disgusted with 

 everything animate and inanimate. 



Old ocean, with her gray waste and the majesty of her 

 angry waves, when stirred to violence, during a storm, has 

 no effect upon his imagination. 



Similar feelings arose within me, when I just pitched my 

 tent upon the desert of Gebbi Heights. 



True it is, that I was surrounded by the beauties and 

 grandeur of nature. The heaven above me, was a panorama 

 of shifting forms and colors, vanishing in a moment, only to 

 reappear with added beauty. 



The landscape was as changeable as the clouds, sailing 

 through the aerial ether. The undulating hills and valleys 

 lying between, the mountains in the distance, with their 

 seared and rugged heights, all revealed the loveliness and sub- 

 limity of the Creator's handiwork. 



"Grand and magnificent scenery ! Pike's Peak ! The 

 life giving ozone ! The turquoise sky ! the perpetual sun- 

 shine ! All clothed in purple adjectives, glittered like a dia- 

 mond upon the outstretched forefinger of time, pointing the 

 way to luxury and a life of ease. 



When I first heard these words. I became intoxicated, 

 through the exuberance of my imagination, but I soon be- 

 came sobered when the real facts presented themselves to 

 me. I realized that I must begin a struggle for existence. 



As I did not arrive here until the tenth of June, 1909, 

 the question arose, should I spend the summer in idleness 

 as was suggested or attempt to raise something on the 

 land, which had already been plowed, at the cost to me, of 

 $2.50 per acre. 



I was minus the three essentials necessary to put in a 

 crop a team farm implements and experience. 



After scanning closely the printed reports of the agri- 

 cultural colleges of the state and eminent scientists who had 

 examined the soil and rendered a judgment as to its fer- 

 tility of the kind of crops to plant, I determined to put in 

 five acres of navy and five acres of Mexican beans. 



My neighbor an experienced farmer kindly consented 

 to put in the crop for $4.50 a day. 



After the beans were planted the rains descended and 

 heat upon them and they, being hard headed, pushed their 

 way through the soil and grew, and grew. 



Anxiously I watched their growth and development, with 

 mingled fear and hope. 



The wise acres laughed at the venture and predicted 

 a total failure, saying that Jack Frost was lying in wait for 

 my beans. But Jack Frost tempered his severity to the 

 shorn lamb. 



During all that summer no word of cheer was given. 

 No helping hand extended but my pathway was ever lined 

 with a row of palms, stretched forth to receive the profit, 

 should there be any, from my experiment. 



The next difficulty that confronted me was the pur- 

 chase of a team and cultivator. I did not care to go into 

 this extensively until I saw my way clear. 



Just at this time I discovered that there were many 

 people who were very solicitious about my welfare, and 

 had just the kind of horses I needed. 



My father was a great lover of horses and always had 

 in his stables, both thorough and standard bred horses.. Hence 

 I was not unaware of the characteristics of good qualities 

 of horses and their proper care and management. 



Of my own free will I purchased for $(50, a white Mexi- 

 can pony of unknown age and pedigree, but warranted to be 

 pentle and sound. Today "Billy" as he is known all over 

 this mountain side, through kind treatment and not too hard 

 work, has become a valuable possession. 



From early morn till eve, Billie and I cultivated those 



"Professor Moore has a ranch at Fountain. Colo. 



beans. They were the pride of my heart and J hoped would 

 inflate my pocketbook ; and, when the sun was setting behind 

 the western mountain, we could be seen trudging our weary 

 way homeward. 



Although I had settled on irrigated land, the down fall 

 of rain was nearly sufficient, so only one irrigation was 

 necessary for the beans. 



Having read that "No occupation on earth, equals irri- 

 gation for ease of income." I located on "Easy Street." 

 But alas ! I found no surcease of labor, and I am still wait- 

 ing for the "income." 



Like the man who when asked why he was spending his 

 summer at Manitou, replied : "For change and rest, but 

 the street cars got the change and the hotels the rest." I 

 have neither change nor rest. 



My life, thus far, had been spent within the walls of the 

 school room, acquiring knowledge and training the youth 

 to travel in the orbit of duty. 



While I found this a most difficult task, I discovered, in 

 irrigation a much harder problem, i. e., to irrigate properly, 

 sloping land. Water naturally seeks its level and there seemed 

 as many levels on this uneven land as Russian thistles on the 

 rewly plowed, uncultivated land. 



My previous training, in patience and endurance, was 

 stretched to the utmost, when I first attempted to direct a 

 stream of water, in the way in which I wished it to go, so 

 that it would be distributed evenly over the land. 



Were I to tell the story of my first experience, at irriga- 

 tion, I could truthfully say, with Aneas, "That it would 

 cause the Myrmidans to weep and the hard hearts of the 

 soldiers of Archilles to melt with pity. 



But now, I rather enjoy seeing the uninitiated make their 

 first attempt. 



A very fine old gentleman, desired to help, when the 

 water was first turned on his sloping land. Soon the water 

 got beyond his control. He tried hard to check it, but it ran 

 streaming down his shovel ; in disqust he exclaimed : "To 

 h with irrigation, I'm going home and go to bed." 



When the beans were matured and ready to be harvested, 

 the question arose, how could this be done? Should they be 

 pulled by hand (a back breaking process), or by machine? 

 To pull by hand was out -of the question, so I bought a 

 machine. 



Again my neighbor came to my assistance with his 

 mules, this time at $4.00 per day. 



I bunched most of the beans myself, but after ten days of 

 this work my muscles refused to obey the mandates of my 

 will and I hired help. 



The only unpaid aid I have received here, came at this 

 time from a man and his son from Connecticut. They 

 walked out here, worked all day and would not accept any- 

 thing for their labor. ' 



When the beans were stacked, no bean thrasher available, 

 they were thrashed with a flail and winnowed by the winds of 

 heaven. 



The winter evenings were spent in picking them over 

 by hand. 



Being of excellent quality, they readily sold, at seed time, 

 for eight cents a pound. 



They brought me sufficient to buy a team and farm im- 

 plements. 



* One acre of Kaffir corn was raised for fodder and one 

 acre of millet for the chickens. 



Although late, a fine garden was put in and cabbage and 

 tomato plants planted, but the main ditch broke, during a 

 severe rain and washed everything down hill. All summer 

 the valley below blossomed with the flowers we intended 

 should adorn a place nearby. The only thing that withstood 

 the freshet, was a row of mammoth sunflowers, along the 

 ditch. They seemed beautiful, as their heads nodded "good 

 morning" over the water. 



For five months we lived in the tent that was pitched 

 the first day we moved on the land. 



The early morning hours brought the luxuries of the 

 land of the blessed, but when the mid-day sun streamed down 

 upon the white canvas, all coolness vanished and the heat 

 and glaring- light caused us to seek shelter in the meagre 

 shade of the tent. 



When the winds blew and the rain came down in tor- 

 rents the shelter was not so secure and delightful as might 

 be imagined. Those unacquainted with the mountain winds 

 of Colorado, have little idea of their sudden force and 

 violence. 



