\J.1S 



THE BEE-KEEPERS' REVIEW, 



finds perhaps twenty feet of snow lodged 

 in the gulches and upon the peaks of the 

 mountains, and while old Sol labors very 

 industriously in melting this snow and 

 sending it dashing down the gorges, his 

 task is never completed. Even when the 

 valleys are purple with the bloom of 

 alfalfa, and the fields yellow with ripen- 

 ing grain, a glance upwards will reveal 

 fleecy clouds coqueting with snow capped 

 peaks. The mountains present a magnifi- 

 cent panaroma to the beholder. Their 

 moods are ever changing. Sunrise gilds 

 the glistening peaks, and lights up the 

 rugged sides, making strong contrasts 

 with the dark chasms; sunset changes 

 the snow to gold, and the slopes to purple 

 and brown. Some days the ranges are 

 half hidden by a hazy, misty blue, in 

 others the atmosphere is as clear as a 

 crystal, but the peaks are hidden by a 

 snow storm. The clearness of the atmos- 

 phere, and the great size of the moun- 

 tains make them appear much nearer and 

 smaller than they really are. A peak 

 that appears one-fourth of a mile in 

 height, and five miles distant, is perhaps 

 forty miles away and towers two miles 

 above the observer. Go five miles nearer 

 and it looks as though it had simpl)^ 

 moved back that distance. The highest 

 peak in the frontispiece of this issue is 

 Mt. Long — two miles higher than the 

 spot where the photograph was taken, 

 and thirty-five miles distant. 



As Nature left this country, the melt- 

 ing snows rushed down the mountain 

 sides, across the plains, and out to the 

 sea, leaving the uplands unwatered, ex- 

 cept from the scant}- showers brought in 

 by the east winds. The result was the 

 "desert lands," so-called, upon which 

 sage brush and buffalo grass are about 

 the only plants that can exist. By the 

 way, the buffalo grass merits a few words 

 of description. It manages to nmke a 

 scanty growth from the few inches 

 of rain that fall in the spring, then 

 withers and dries up, "cures," in fact, as 

 truly as farmers cure hay in the liast. 

 This short, crinkly, dried grass, that re- 



minds one of wool on a darkey's head, 

 only it is a dull, dirty looking gray, in- 

 stead of black, is as nutritious as any 

 Eastern hay — in fact more so. It was 

 upon this that fed the immense herds of 

 bufi^alo, in the years gone by; hence the 

 name — buffalo grass. It is this same 

 grass that now furnishes food for the 

 great herds of cattle belonging to the 

 ranchman. The soil of these great plains 

 contains all of the needed elements, except 

 water, for the growing of enormous 

 crops, and when man went to the moun- 

 tain streams, and cut great ditches, bring- 

 ing the water out upon the plains, and 

 spreading it out in small streams upon 

 their gently sloping sides, they began to 

 blossom as the rose. 



Irrigation is a river reversed. Numer- 

 ous small streams continue to unite; this 

 is the formation of a river. In irrigation, 

 the beginning is a large canal that brings 

 the water out upon the plains; from this 

 laterals branch out, and from these still 

 smaller ditches distribute the water over 

 the land, until, finally, the water is en- 

 tirely taken up by absorption. Many 

 streams are eventually ab iorbed by the 

 irrigation ditches or canats. Consider- 

 able engineering skill is reauired in the 

 construction of irrigation ditches. Some- 

 times an embankment, with a ditch on 

 its summit, is needed to carry the water 

 across a hollow. Then, again, a "cut" is 

 needed to get it through a hill. Great 

 reservoirs, perhaps a mile across, are 

 sometimes constructed for storing up the 

 surplus water that comes down in the 

 spring, that it may be used when the 

 mountain streams dwindle down. Irriga- 

 tion extends out perhaps 15 to 20 miles 

 from the foot hills, or from the large 

 streams, and in these irrigated belts there 

 are often hills that are "above 

 water," as the expression goes. A 

 "tender-foot" is sometimes "sold" by 

 selling him one of the "dry" hills. To 

 an Eastern man it looks odd to see a little 

 ditch of water along side ever}- sidewalk 

 in the villages and towns; without this, 

 however, there would be no shade trees 



