Western Irrigation

I have already set forth my belief that Irrigation is everywhere

practicable, is destined to be generally adopted, and to prove signally

beneficent. I do not mean that every acre of the States this side of the

Missouri will ever be thus supplied with water, but that some acres of

every township, and of nearly every farm, should and will be. I propose

herein to speak with direct reference to that large portion of our

co ntry which cannot be cultivated to any purpose without Irrigation.

This region, which is practically rainless in Summer, may be roughly

indicated as extending from the forks of the Platte westward, and as

including all our present Territories, a portion of Western Texas, the

entire State of Nevada, and at least nine-tenths of California. On this

vast area, no rain of consequence falls between April and November,

while its soil, parched by fervid, cloudless suns, and swept by

intensely dry winds, is utterly divested of moisture to a depth of three

or four feet; and I have seen the tree known as Buckeye growing in it,

at least six inches in diameter, whereon every leaf was withered and

utterly dead before the end of August, though the tree still lived, and

would renew its foliage next Spring.



Most of this broad area is usually spoken of as desert, because

treeless, except on the slopes of its mountains, where certain

evergreens would seem to dispense with moisture, and on the brink of

infrequent and scanty streams, where the all but worthless Cotton-wood

is often found growing luxuriantly. A very little low Gamma Grass on the

Plains, some straggling Bunch-grass on the mountains, with an endless

profusion of two poor shrubs, popularly known as Sage-brush and

Grease-wood, compose the vegetation of nearly or quite a million square

miles.



I will confine myself in this essay to the readiest means of irrigating

the Plains, by which I mean the all but treeless plateau that stretches

from the base of the Rocky Mountains, 300 to 400 miles eastward, sloping

imperceptibly toward the Missouri, and drained by the affluents of the

Platte, the Kansas, and the Arkansas rivers.



The North Platte has its sources in the western, as the South Platte has

in the eastern, slopes of the Rocky Mountains. Each of them pursues a

generally north-east course for some 300 miles, and then turns sharply

to the eastward, uniting some 300 miles eastward of the mountains, where

the Plains melt into the Prairies. Between these two rivers and the

eastern base of the mountains lies an irregular delta or triangle, which

seems susceptible of irrigation at a smaller cost than the residue. The

location of Union Colony may be taken as a fair illustration of the

process, and the facilities therefor afforded by nature.



Among the streams which, taking rise in the eastern gorges of the Rocky

Mountains, run into the South Platte, the most considerable has somehow

acquired the French name of Cache la Poudre. It heads in and about

Long's Peak, and, after emerging from the mountains, runs some 20 to 25

miles nearly due east, with a descent in that distance of about 100

feet. Its waters are very low in Autumn and Winter, and highest in May,

June and July, from the melting of snow and ice on the lofty mountains

which feed it. Like all the streams of this region, it is broad and

shallow, with its bed but three to four feet below the plains on either

side.



Greeley, the nucleus of Union Colony, is located at the crossing of the

Cache la Poudre by the Denver-Pacific Railroad, about midway of its

course from the Kansas Pacific at Denver northward to the Union Pacific

at Cheyenne. Here a village of some 400 to 500 houses has suddenly grown

up during the past Summer.



The first irrigating canal of Union Colony leaves the Cache la Poudre

six or eight miles above Greeley, on the south side, and is carried

gradually further and further from the stream until it is fully a mile

distant at the village, whence it is continued to the Platte. Branches

or ditches lead thence northward, conveying rills through the streets

of the village, the gardens or plats of its inhabitants, and the public

square, or plaza, which is designed to be its chief ornament. Other

branches lead to the farms and five-acre allotments whereby the village

is surrounded; as still others will do in time to all the land between

the canal and the river. In due time, another canal will be taken out

from a point further up the stream, and will irrigate the lands of the

colony lying south of the present canal, and which are meantime devoted

to pasturage in common.



Taking the water out of the river is here a very simple matter. At the

head of an island, a rude dam of brush and stones and earth is thrown

across the bed of the stream, so as to raise the surface two or three

feet when the water is lowest, and very much less when it is highest.

Thus deflected, a portion of the water flows easily into the canal.



A very much larger and longer canal, leaving the Cache la Poudre close

to the mountains, and gradually increasing its distance from that stream

to four or five miles, is now in progress by sections, and is to be

completed this Winter. Its length will be thirty miles, and it will

irrigate, when the necessary sub-canals shall have been constructed, not

less than 40,000 acres. But it may be ten years before all this work is

completed or even required. The lands most easily watered from the main

canal will be first brought into cultivation; the sub-canals will be dug

as they shall be wanted.



At first, members of the Colony arriving at its location, hesitated to

take farm allotments and build upon them, from distrust of the

capacities of the soil. They saw nothing of value growing upon it; the

little grass found upon it was short, thin, and brown. It was not black,

like the prairies and bottoms of Illinois and Kansas, but of a light

yellow snuff-color, and deemed sterile by many. But a few took hold, and

planted and sowed resolutely; and, though it was too late in the season

for most grains, the results were most satisfactory. Wheat sown in June

produced 30 bushels to the acre; Oats did as well; while Potatoes,

Beets, Turnips, Squashes, Cabbages, etc., yielded bounteously; Tomatoes

did likewise, but the plants were obtained from Denver. Little was done

with Indian Corn, but that little turned out well, though I judge that

the Summer nights are too cold here to justify sanguine expectations of

a Corn-crop--the altitude being 5,000 feet above the sea, with

snow-covered mountains always visible in the west. For other Grains, and

for all Vegetables and Grasses, I believe there is no better soil in the

world.



To many, the cost of Irrigation would seem so much added to the expense

of cultivating without irrigation; but this is a mistake. Here is land

entirely free from stump, or stick, or stone, which may easily and

surely be plowed or seeded in March or April, and which will produce

great crops of nearly every grain, grass or vegetable, with a very

moderate outlay of labor to subdue and till it. The farmer need not

lose three days per annum by rains in the growing season, and need not

fear storm or shower when he seeks to harvest his grass or grain.

Nothing like ague or any malarious disease exhausts his vitality or

paralyzes his strength. I saw men breaking up for the first time tracts

which had received no water, using but a single span of horses as team;

whereas, breaking up in the Prairie States involves a much larger outlay

of power. The advantage of early sowing is very great; that of a long

planting season hardly less so. I believe a farmer in this colony may

keep his plow running through October, November, and a good portion of

December; start it again by the 1st of March, and commence seeding with

Wheat, Oats, and Barley, and keep seeding, including planting and

gardening, until the first of June, which is soon enough to plant

potatoes for Winter use. Thenceforth, he may keep the weeds out of his

Corn, Roots, and Vegetables, for six Weeks or two months; and, as every

day is a bright working-day, he can get on much faster than he could if

liable to frequent interruptions by rains. I estimate the cost of

bringing water to each farm at $5 per acre, and that of leading it about

in sub-ditches, so that it shall be available and applicable on every

acre of that farm, at somewhat less; but let us suppose that the first

cost of having water everywhere and always at command is $10 per acre,

and that it will cost thereafter $1 per acre to apply it, I maintain

that it is richly worth having, and that nearly every farm product can

be grown cheaper by its help than on lands where irrigation is presumed

unnecessary. There are not many acres laid down to grass in New-England,

whether for hay or pasture, that would not have justified an outlay of

$10 per acre to secure their thorough irrigation simply for this year

alone.