Dac Crossley's Western Blog

Charles Darwin's Revolution

My friend Jerry W. has warned me about discussing controversial topics in my Western Blog. The purpose of the blog is to promote my writing. Discussions of politics and religion don’t belong here.

 However, I can’t help but notice that today is the 150^th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s book, “On the Origin of Species.” The central concept – evolution as an organizing principle in biology – has led to the realization that all life on earth is related. Today’s biologists recognize that relatedness in all phases of their science, from the molecular to landscapes.

 The evidence for evolution comes not only from biology but from archaeologists, geologists, chemists and others. Yet evolution continues to be branded as “just a theory” in some philosophies.

 The difficulty seems to arise from the conclusion that man is not the center of the universe. That proposition should have vanished long ago. Today’s astronomers continue to show us the true extent of the universe, and the insignificance of planet earth in it. Let us, instead, celebrate the oneness of all earth's creatures, and the thin green layer that covers our planet.

 Whatever your view of the universe, your personal grasp of reality, today would be a fine day for a walk in the woods, a stroll through the fields or along the river bank. Offer Charles Darwin’s universe a belated salute.

 Dac Crossley

11/24/2009

 “God and I have a relationship, but we both see other people.” – Dolly Parton  

Rain and Fire -- Burning the Grasslands

Here in Georgia it’s a cold, dark rainy day, a taste of the winter months to come. Rain is welcome after our long drought, even though we’ve exceeded our yearly average. The forest needs it – it takes at least 25 inches of rain to keep the trees. Otherwise, we’ll revert to grassland or worse.

 Fire is the other factor along with rainfall. In eastern Kansas the border between forest and tall-grass prairie historically shifted back and forth due to burning. Grasses are much more fire-tolerant. On the University of Kansas campus there was (still is?) a “prairie acre,” maintained pristine as “nature’s own sweet way of making her garden.” If they don’t burn the prairie acre it will revert to trees.

 The southern Californian shrub land, the chaparral, is sustained by occasional fires. Seeds of those plants require fire to germinate. Fire is an important management tool for Florida’s pine forests, where the loblolly and slash pine plantations benefit from frequent but low-intensity fires. If left unburned for decades, hardwoods replace the pines.

 In Texas as well. The short-grass prairies of the Texas Panhandle burned periodically, and were rejuvenated in the process (but they weren’t likely to become a forest). Indians  set fires to concentrate game or to harass their enemies. When ranges were fenced in the early 1880’s, grass fires were a retaliation by “open range” proponents in the struggle for free grass. Those XIT ranchers who fenced the prairies were caught unprepared for a major grass fire that swept over miles and miles of grazing lands. And according to J. Evetts Haley in The XIT Ranch of Texas, the spread of fire was helped by – cow patties!

 Propelled by high winds, blazing cow patties rolled across natural firebreaks like “tin plates, blazing little fire-wheels, crossing roads and guards and starting other fires beyond the reach of the parent flames.” One rancher lost his barn when burning cow patties spun underneath it. Revenge of the buffalo? 

Fires in the Panhandle ceased to be a problem with the arrival of the sodbuster, who brought an end to the short-grass prairie.

 So, I’m grateful for the Georgia rain, even on a cold, dark, miserable Sunday. Pax vobiscum.

 Dac Crossley

11/22/2009

 “I used to be Snow White … but I drifted.”  Mae West.

 

 

 

 

The End of the Open Range

The High Plains of Texas and the Llano Estacado, hunting grounds of Comanche and Kiowa, were superb grazing lands of short-grass prairie. Old time Texas Rangers and cowmen such as Charles Goodnight, Thomas Bugbee and Charles Littlefield had their eyes on the plains. In 1875, When the last of the Indians were shuttled off to reservations in Oklahoma, the ranching era began. 

“As steers long shut in a corral eagerly take to water and grass when the bars are down, so the cattlemen stampeded into the country along the Canadian.” (J. Evetts Haley, 1953). The prairie grasses were good grazing, winter and summer. Water was something of a problem. The country was troubled by rustlers and other outlaws, problems the ranchers handled themselves. 

The open range was destined to be short-lived. In 1879, the Texas Legislature passed a law appropriating three million acres of the Panhandle to finance a capitol building in Austin. Eventually a Chicago firm contracted to construct the building in exchange for the land. Most likely, each party thought they had outwitted the other.

 The cornerstone of the magnificent Capitol of Texas was laid in 1885. It stands today, a landmark in Austin.

 The new land owners, the Capitol Lands Company, considered sale of their holdings for colonizing. It was a few years too early. Instead, they established the enormous XIT Ranch, fencing in cattle pastures with the newfangled barbed wire. Again, water was an occasional problem and rustlers were a constant one. Prairie fires could be disastrous. The market fell and rain didn't. English capital came to their rescue. 

Then came the railroad, and with it the nesters. Railroads gave access to markets. Tillers of the plains followed the cowboy, who complained that “the best side’s up, don’t plow it under.” New railroad towns sprang up, displacing the old outlaw hangouts such as Tascosa. 

It was a short span of time, actually, from the last of the Indians in 1875 to the first farming tracts established in 1890. By 1900, much of the Capitol Reservation prairies had become the sites of farms and towns. After 25 years the open range was gone. 

Three decades later came the Dust Bowl. Revenge of the prairies?

 Dac Crossley

11/17/2009 

“One is the master through small details.”  -- Goethe

 

 

 

  

 

  

Cross the Brazos at Waco

A brief report on the latest Texas adventure: Signing books at the Texas Ranger Museum and Hall of Fame in Waco, Texas.

I Hadn’t been to Waco in a while and found a pleasant, bustling little city on the Brazos. Classy lady Luella W. hosted my visit, arranging all from portal to portal. We walked the old suspension bridge to the site of the original Waco Indian village. (They were “Huecos,” pronounced “Waco,” not “Whacko” as my Georgia friends are prone to say it). 

A must-see in Waco is the Mayborn Museum on Baylor Campus, a remarkable complex celebrating the natural science and cultural history of Central Texas. I got the full tour and was blown away. I’m familiar with natural history collections (I’m a curator emeritus in our Georgia Museum of Natural History here in Athens). The Mayfair Museum is in a class by itself, a wonder, from historical artifacts to mammoth bones. Well worth the trip. 

Baylor also has an unusual collection of Robert Browning – Elizabeth Barrett Browning memorabilia. Those old Brahamas who survived Miss William’s classes in King High would be proud of the responses that Luella and I managed to the Browning poetry. 

Luella arranged a mini-reunion of old friends, South Texans and family. We ate Fajitas, toasted and sang the songs of the homeland, thanks to a courageous local guitar artist. 

And yes, signed books at the Texas Ranger Museum. 

After all – Life is good. Thank you Luella and all. 

Dac Crossley

11/10/2009 

“Use what talents you possess: The woods would be silent if no birds sang except those that sang best.” -- Henry Van Dyke.

 

 

 

 

The Final Gift of the Buffalo

That generous animal, the American Bison, provided sustenance for explorers and pioneers (and native Americans), then their hides, and finally their bones. Those giant herds left one final legacy.

Early settlers in those treeless plains, the Llano Estacado, found little wood. Those who settled the little villages of Tascosa or Amarillo lived in dugouts along with rattlesnakes and other varmints. I remarked recently on the Palo Duro Canyon dugout of the early rancher Charles Goodnight.

Absence of wood posed another problem – how to cook? When the Texas Panhandle was opened for settlement in 1882, a careful survey of the Texas-New Mexico boundary was called for. The duty fell to A. C. Babcock. Beginning at the north end, Babcock worked his way due south, accompanied by two cowboys and a Mexican cook named Felix. Babock was fastidious, sleeping on a cot in his own tent. He enjoyed the meals prepared by Felix.

That is, until he discovered that Felix was using buffalo chips as cooking fuel. 

Those remnants of the giant herds were just about the only combustibles available on the prairies. Babcock was horrified, and complained so much that the cowboys began to call the cow-chips “Babcock Coal.”

(Fortunately for Babcock one of the cowboys, a one-armed man named Vivian, had brought along a small supply of wood with which he cooked steaks.)

Thus, the giant herds of bison made their final tribute to life on the Great Plains -- their dung.

There is a moral, an aphorism, to be gained. I hesitate. 

Dac Crossley

11/1/2009 

Albert Einstein: “God does not play dice with the Universe."

Niels Bohr: “Einstein, quit telling God what to do.”