1883.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
31 
Our Western “Empires.” 
Les6 than forty years ago, the school maps des¬ 
ignated as the “Great American Desert,” all the 
country lying between the western line of Missouri 
and Iowa, and the Rocky Mountains. In the cen¬ 
ter of this “desert” the single State of 
Kansas, which, two years ago, had a popula¬ 
tion of just about a round million, has to-day, 
probably, 1,200,000. Its census products, largely 
increased since, comprised over 105,000,000 bushels 
of corn, over 17,000,000 bushels of wheat, 8,000,000 
bushels of oats, grown on 138,561 farms. The live 
stock numbered 4,234,473 head, including 430,907 
horses, and 1,451,057 neat cattle, of which 418,333 
were milch cows. In extent it lacks but three- 
tenths of the area of Greet Britain, including Ire¬ 
land and Scotland and the adjacent islands, occu¬ 
pied by nearly 35,000,000 people. 
Nebraska, carved out of this same “ Desert,” 
not 7 per cent, less than Kansas in extent, has to¬ 
day a thriving population of over 500,000, and two 
years since, had 63,387 farms, which then produced 
over 65,000,000 bushels of corn, nearly 15,000,000 
bushels of wheat, and 6,500,000 bushels of oats. 
Its live stock numbered over 2,500,000, including 
204,861 horses, 758,550 neat cattle, of which 161,187 
were milch cows. All the above items, taken from 
the official count, have been largely increased dur¬ 
ing the past two years. 
Dakota is only about a quarter less in size than 
the entire German Empire, which has over 40,000,- 
000 population, or the whole of France with its 
37,010,000 people. It is as large as all Italy and 
Portugal combined, inhabited by some 32,000,000. 
The immense wheat regions in the north and north¬ 
eastern portions of Dakota, and the great fertile 
prairies in the south,with the extensive central and 
western pasturage, interspersed with rich valleys, 
are all rapidly filling up with a thriving population, 
soon to count many millions. 
Montana, a little larger even than Dakota, and 
until recently supposed to be too cold and bleak 
for habitation, is developing with amazing rapidity, 
and proving to be little behind many other States 
in its agricultural capabilities. The railroads rap¬ 
idly penetrating its borders, and passing through 
its width, are fast bringing it into full free com¬ 
munion with its older sisters. 
The Mid Region, 
enclosed between the Mississippi River and the 
above-named territories, comprising Minnesota, 
Iowa, Missouri, and Arkansas, has 28 per cent 
more area than the entire German Empire, and far 
exceeds it in its proportion of fertile soil. The 
present population is nearly 6,000,000, and these 
four States will as easily support 50,000,000 to 60,- 
000,000 as Germany does its 40,000,000. 
Our Pacific “ Empire.” 
Passing over, for the time being, the States and 
Territories of Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada, Ari¬ 
zona, Wyoming, Utah, and Idaho, together about 
as large as the combined area of Germany, France, 
Great Britain and Spain, we find on the Pacific 
Coast alone, in California, Oregon and Washing¬ 
ton, an area of 323,500 square miles, or over 50 
percent, larger than the German Empire, or France, 
and fully equaling those countries in the capability 
of sustaining a dense population. With the entire 
present inhabitants of the United Stated concen¬ 
trated in California, Oregon and Washington, 
there would still be room for from 10,000,000 to 15,- 
000 ,000, without exceeding the population per 
square mile of either France or Germany. 
Opening a Earm—The Western Pioneer. 
We often see reference made to the “ pioneers of 
western civilization ” as if they were all engaged in 
much the same kind of life. The only one object 
they have in common is, to set the stakes of their 
boundaries further west. The means by which 
they do this varies greatly. Take the one item of 
timber, for example. Along our northern border, 
there is, in most of the States, a considerable area 
of forest. As we go southward the trees are fewer, 
and sooner or later we come to the “treelees prai¬ 
ries.” One who opens his farm in the dense timber 
land, and one who sets his stakes where there is 
not a tree in sight, are equally pioneers. Yet how 
different their surroundings aud how unlike their 
preliminary labors. The woods-man has probably 
opened several other farms before his present one, 
and as soon as he had fairly subdued each, he has 
sold it, and “gone west.” Such men look upon a 
tree as something to bo cut down. In opening a 
farm in the woods, enough timber for the house, 
barns, and other buildings, as well as sufficient for 
fence-rails, will be reserved. All the rest must be 
logged up and burned. Suggest to such a man 
that a thrifty little grove of oaks and ashes will be 
most useful hereafter in the pasture, “ and he will 
laugh at the idea—it interferes with his notion 
of “clearing.” The pioneer in a timbered coun¬ 
try, while it takes him longer to get his land into 
tillage, has the advantage of an abundance of 
building and fencing material as well as fuel, of 
which his brother pioneer on the prairies has such 
a “plentiful lack.” 
One who is about to open a farm on the prairies, 
if he is sensible, will at once consider what trees 
he shall plant for fuel and for shelter. Better begin 
farm life in a sod-house and remain there for a few 
years while money and work are expended on trees, 
than to put up a costly house for the prairie winds 
to race through. It is not only in relation to trees 
that the practice of western pioneers will vary 
greatly, but in other important matters, such as 
irrigation, for example. Many wide areas must 
be watered, before the soil can be relied upon for 
a crop; with irrigation it becomes of marvellous 
productiveness. In some localities, the pioneer 
finds abundant water everywhere. In others he 
has an excess of wind, which he must convert into 
water, and one of his first cares is to procure a 
wind-mill to supply his family and animals with 
water. 
Life in the Lumber Rgions. 
Excepting that of the sailor, probably no other 
occupation so strongly impresses itself upon those 
who follow it as that of lumberman. Stalwart, 
capable of exerting immense strength, and of won¬ 
derful endurance, he is, in his camp, a most hos¬ 
pitable and genial person. When he leaves the 
camp for the settlements, he is apt to be rather too 
boisterous to be an agreeable companion. The 
picturesque figure of the lumberman, usually 
dressed in red and blue flannels, with a profusion 
of white buttons, and shod with boots, the soles of 
which are studded with 6harp points, has mainly 
disappeared from “ down-eastern” towns. Indeed, 
if one would enjoy a period of life in the lumber 
regions, he will be more likely to find it in perfection 
in the vicinity of Lake Superior, and other western 
localities, than on the head waters of the Penobscot 
and other eastern streams. Lumberiug requires, 
not only experience, but executive ability and good 
judgment. The very first step is “ prospecting.” Be¬ 
fore a logging-camp is established, the locality is 
carefully selected; not only must there be the 
right kind of trees in abundance, but facilities for 
removing the timber. There must be a river to 
float away the logs, and no great difficulty in draw¬ 
ing them to it. AVhen the selection of the tract has 
been made, an advance party goes to it, in autumn, 
to make preparations, one or more log-houses 
being put up for the men, and a shelter, or hovels, 
erected for the cattle and horses. As large a 
quantity as possible of the wild grasses on the 
marshes and swales is cut and converted into 
coarse hay for the oxen. An abundance of fuel is 
provided, to be accessible in spite of deep snows, 
and proper provision made for water for both men 
and beasts. It is a part of the duty of the advance 
party to so prepare needed roads, that a fall of 
snow will make them passable by sleds. 
At last, when the travel will allow, the main 
party, with oxen, heavy logging sleds, abundant 
provisions and fodder, and the men who are to pass 
the winter in the camp, arrive. The main budding 
is that usually intended when “ the camp ” is men¬ 
tioned. This is sometimes merely a large log- 
house, with a long opening in the roof and a door 
at one side. There is, in the center, a bed, or plat¬ 
form of earth, a few inches high, on which the fire 
is built, the smoke escaping thiough the hole in 
the roof. Around the walls,—usually upon two 
6 ides only,—are placed the bunks, with the feet of 
the sleepers toward the fire. If the number of men 
require it, a second tier of bunks is made above 
the first. A bed, such as a lumberman can make- 
from small hemlock twigs, is not to be despised by 
a tired person. Sometimes the camp is more elab¬ 
orate, a fireplace with a chimney occupies one 
end of the house, and a few glazed windows make 
the place light in stormy weather. 
Sometimes a family, including women, will go 
into the camp and put up a separate hut for them¬ 
selves. Active labor in the clear air of winter, 
give the lumberers appetites which must be met by 
abundant and nourishing food—hence the cook— 
or “the Doctor,” as he is sometimes called, is an 
important man. One who has not tasted the stand¬ 
ard dish, “Pork and Beans,” as cooked in a hole 
in the ground in a lumber-camp, has yet something 
to learn. 
Food and .Skelter on the Ranges. 
There are in the far Western States and Territo¬ 
ries wide areas with a peculiarly mild climate. For 
several years in success-on, both cattle and sheep 
are able to find their own food, and are in fairly 
good condition in spring. If the climate were: 
always like this, nothing better could be wished. 
But there is occasionally a severe winter ; the snow- 
covers the grass, and the cold piercing winds drive- 
the animals before them. Unfortunately there are- 
often no belts of timber, or brush, or even ravines- 
in which the animals may find shelter and rest, and. 
they often become exhausted and perish. Provi¬ 
dent shepherds and herders find that this is one of 
those cases in which it is best to not “ take the 
chances,” but to provide a store of food each au¬ 
tumn, as if they were sure that a hard winter would, 
follow. In supplying food a shelter may be pro¬ 
vided and a double object gained. The natural 
grasses of the ranges, though coarse, is sufficiently 
nutritious to keep the animals during the winter,, 
even when allowed to die and dry where it stands.. 
If it can be cut and cured while yet partially green,, 
the hay is of far better quality. The simplest way 
to keep the hay is to set up a row of posts, about 
12 feet apart; these are to be connected by other 
sticks running along and spliced to their tops. 
Lighter poles are then laid from the cross-beam 
to the ground, towards the north side, and near 
enough together to sustain the hay that may be 
piled upon them. This will make a lean-to shed, 
which, when thickly covered with hay, will afford 
abundant shelter, and at the same time food within 
reach. After a severe storm the hay may be re-ad¬ 
justed, and more, if need, be added. A more com¬ 
plete shelter may be made by setting up two rows 
of uprights 12 or 14 feet apart, using the sloping 
poles as before. The two rows of horizontal cross¬ 
beams, should be connected by light poles. This 
will allow a larger amount of hay to be stored out 
of reach of the animals, and which may be used to 
keep the sloping portion of the shed in repair. 
Shelters of this kind may be made of any needed 
length, and should always be placed with reference 
to affording protection from the severest winds. 
Enemies to Young Trees in Winter.— 
Field mice may ruin a whole orchard in a single 
winter, by gnawing the tender bark from the 
tranks of the fruit and other trees. The greatest 
destruction is done while the earth is covered with 
a heavy fall of show. At this time the mice bur¬ 
row from tree to tree, and forage at their free will, 
under cover of the snow. So soon as the storm is 
over, the snow should be tramped down around 
each tree, to shut off the mice. Rabbits may be 
kept from the trees by smearing the bark with 
blood, or rubbing the trunks with refuse meat. 
