Upon the high mountains
and plateaus of northern Arizona there are great forests of pine
and plenty of shade. But few cattle range there in comparison to
the large numbers that graze on the lower levels further south.
What little tree growth there is on the desert is stunted and
supplies but scant shade. In the canons some large cottonwood,
sycamore and walnut trees can be found; upon the foot hills the
live oak and still higher up the mountain the pine. Cattle
always seek the shade and if there are no trees they will lie
down in the shade of a bush or anything that casts a shadow. The
cattle are so eager for shade that if they can find nothing
better they will crowd into the narrow ribbon of shade that is
cast by a columnar cactus or telegraph pole and seem to be
satisfied with ever so little if only shade is touched.
Twenty years ago before there were many cattle on the
southwestern range, the gramma grass stood knee high everywhere
all over that country and seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of
feed for an unlimited number of cattle during an indefinite term
of years. It was not many years, however, after the large herds
were turned loose on the range until the grass was all gone and
the ground, except in a few favored spots, left nearly as bare of
grass as the traveled road. At the present time whatever grass
there is must grow each year which, even in a favorable year, is
never heavy. If the summer rains fail, no grass whatever can
grow and the cattle are without feed. The grass about the
springs and water holes is first to disappear and then the cattle
must go farther and farther from water to find any grass. When
cattle are compelled to travel over long distances in going from
grass to water, they naturally grow thin from insufficient food
and are worn out by the repeated long journeys. A cow that is
thin and weak will postpone making the trip as long as possible -
two, three and even four days in the hottest weather she will
wait before attempting the trip. At last, when the poor creature
reaches water, she is so famished from thirst that she drinks too
much. In her feeble condition she is unable to carry the
enormous load of water which she drinks and lies down by the side
of the friendly water trough to die from exhaustion.
If cattle are turned loose upon a new range they act strange and
are inclined to scatter. Until they become accustomed to the
change they should be close herded, but after they are once
located they are not liable to stray very far.
As they are only worked by men on horseback they are not
frightened at the sight of a horse and rider; but let a stranger
approach them on foot, in a moment after he is sighted every head
is raised in surprise and alarm and the pedestrian is, indeed,
fortunate if the herd turns tail and scampers off instead of
running him down and tramping him under foot in a wild stampede.
Nowhere else can be found a finer sight than is witnessed in the
range country. In every direction broad meadows stretch away to
the horizon where numberless cattle roam and are the embodiment
of bovine happiness and contentment. Scattered about in
irregular groups they are seen at ease lying down or feeding, and
frisking about in an overflow of exuberant life. Cow paths or
trails converge from every point of the compass, that lead to
springs and water holes, on which the cattle travel.
It is an interesting sight to watch the cattle maneuver as they
form in line, single file, ready for the march. They move
forward in an easy, deliberate walk one behind the other and may
be seen coming and going in every direction. They make their
trips with great regularity back and forth from grass to water,
and vice versa, going to water in the morning and back to the
feeding grounds at night.
Cows have a curious fashion, sometimes, of hiding out their
calves. When a cow with a young calf starts for water she
invariably hides her calf in a bunch of grass or clump of bushes
in some secluded spot, where it lies down and remains perfectly
quiet until the mother returns. I have many times while riding
the range found calves thus secreted that could scarcely be
aroused or frightened away, which behavior was so different from
their usual habit of being shy and running off at the slightest
provocation. The calf under such circumstances seems to
understand that it is "not at home," and cannot be seen.
At another time a lot of calves are left in charge of a young cow
or heifer that seems to understand her responsibility and guards
her charge carefully. The young calves are too weak to make the
long trip to water and thus, through the maternal instinct of the
mother cow, she provides for the care of her offspring almost as
if she were human.
After viewing such a large pasture as the open range presents,
which is limitless in extent, the small fenced field or pasture
lot of a few acres on the old home farm back east, that looked so
large to boyish eyes in years gone by, dwindles by comparison
into insignificance and can never again be restored to its former
greatness.
CHAPTER IV
RANCH LIFE
Ranch life on the open range may be somewhat wild and lonely, but
it is as free and independent to the rancher as it is to his
unfettered cattle that roam at will over a thousand hills.