Ranching, Sport and Travel

T >> Thomas Carson >> Ranching, Sport and Travel

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[Illustration: ONE OF THE "BOYS."

(Portrait. See p. 125.)

Frontispiece.]

RANCHING, SPORT AND TRAVEL

BY

THOMAS CARSON, F.R.G.S.

WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS

T. FISHER UNWIN

LONDON LEIPSIC
Adelphi Terrace Inselstrasse 20

1911

[_All Rights Reserved_]

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

This book is somewhat in the nature of an autobiography, covering as it
does almost the whole of the Author's life. The main portion of the
volume is devoted to cattle ranching in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas.
The Author has also included a record of his travels abroad, which he
hopes will prove to be not uninteresting; and a chapter devoted to a
description of tea planting in India.

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. TEA PLANTING 13

In Cachar--Apprenticeship--Tea Planting described--Polo
--In Sylhet--Pilgrims at Sacred Pool--Wild
Game--Amusements--Rainfall--Return to Cachar--Scottpore
--Snakes--A Haunted Tree--Hill Tribes--Selecting
a Location--Return to England.

II. CATTLE RANCHING IN ARIZONA 42

Leave for United States of America--Iowa--New
Mexico--Real Estate Speculation--Gambling--Billy
the Kid--Start Ranching in Arizona--Description of
Country--Apache and other Indians--Fauna--Branding
Cattle--Ranch Notes--Mexicans--Politics--Summer
Camp--Winter Camp--Fishing and
Shooting--Indian Troubles.

III. CATTLE RANCHING IN ARIZONA (_continued_) 81

The Cowboy--Accoutrements and Weapons--Desert
Plants--Politics and Perjury--Mavericks--Mormons--Bog
Riding.

IV. ODDS AND ENDS 103

Scent and Instinct--Mules--Roping Contests--Antelopes
--The Skunk--Garnets--Leave Arizona.

V. RANCHING IN NEW MEXICO 117

The Scottish Company--My Difficulties and Dangers--Mustang
Hunting--Round-up described--Shipping
Cattle--Railroad Accidents--Close out Scotch Company's
Interests.

VI. ODDS AND ENDS 152

Summer Round-up Notes--Night Guarding--Stampedes--Bronco
Busting--Cattle Branding, etc.

VII. ON MY OWN RANCH 170

Locating--Plans--Prairie Fires and Guards--Bulls--Trading
--Successful Methods--Loco-weed--Sale of Ranch.

VIII. ODDS AND ENDS 198

The "Staked Plains"--High Winds--Lobo Wolves--Branding
--Cows--Black Jack--Lightning and Hail--Classing
Cattle--Conventions--"Cutting" versus
Polo--Bull-Fight--Prize-Fights--River and Sea
Fishing--Sharks.

IX. IN AMARILLO 226

Purchase of Lots--Building--Boosting a Town.

X. FIRST TOUR ABROAD 234

Mexico--Guatemala--Salvador--Panama--Colombia--Venezuela
--Jamaica--Cuba--Fire in Amarillo--Rebuilding.

XI. SECOND TOUR ABROAD 250

Bermudas--Switzerland--Italy--Monte Carlo--Algiers
--Morocco--Spain--Biarritz and Pau.

XII. THIRD TOUR ABROAD 256

Salt Lake City--Canada--Vancouver--Hawaii--Fiji
--Australia--New Zealand--Tasmania--Summer at Home.

XIII. FOURTH TOUR ABROAD 270

Yucatan--Honduras--Costa Rica--Panama--Equador--Peru
--Chile--Argentina--Brazil--Teneriffe.

XIV. FIFTH TOUR ABROAD 287

California--Honolulu--Japan--China--Singapore--Burmah
--India--Ceylon--The End.

APPENDIX 317

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ONE OF THE "BOYS" (_see_ page 125) _Frontispiece_

PLUCKING TEA LEAF 20

NAGAS 37

ROPING A GRIZZLY 70

A SHOOTING SCRAPE 76

ONE OF OUR MEN, TO SHOW HANG OF SIX-SHOOTER 78

1883 IN ARIZONA, AUTHOR AND PARTY 80

WOUND UP, HORSE TANGLED IN ROPE 106

WATERING A HERD 116

HERD ON TRAIL, SHOWING LEAD STEER 137

CHANGING HORSES 153

A REAL BAD ONE 164

BREAKING THE PRAIRIE 230

FIRST CROP--MILO MAIZE 230

LLAMAS AS PACK ANIMALS 279

DRIFTING SAND DUNE, ONE OF THOUSANDS 279

PERUVIAN RUINS. NOTE DIMENSIONS OF STONES AND LOCKING SYSTEM 281

PALACE OF MAHARANA OF UDAIPUR 310

RANCHING, SPORT AND TRAVEL

CHAPTER I

TEA PLANTING

In Cachar--Apprenticeship--Tea Planting described--Polo--In
Sylhet--Pilgrims at Sacred Pool--Wild
Game--Amusements--Rainfall--Return to Cachar--Scottpore--Snakes--A
Haunted Tree--Hill Tribes--Selecting a Location--Return to England.

Having no inclination for the seclusion and drudgery of office work,
determined to lead a country life of some kind or other, and even then
having a longing desire to roam the world and see foreign countries, I
had arranged to accompany a friend to the Comoro Islands, north of
Madagascar; but changing my mind and accepting the better advice of
friends, my start was made, not to the Comoro Islands, but to India and
the tea district of Cachar. Accordingly the age of twenty-two and the
year 1876 saw me on board a steamer bound for Calcutta.

Steamers were slow sailers in those days, and it was a long trip via
Gibraltar, Suez, Malta, the Canal and Point de Galle; but it was all
very interesting to me.

Near Point de Galle we witnessed from the steamer a remarkable sight, a
desperate fight, it seemed to be a fight and not play, between a
sea-serpent, which seemed to be about fifteen feet long, and a huge ray.
The battle was fought on the surface of the water and even out of it, as
the ray several times threw himself into the air. How it ended we could
not see. Anyway we had seen the sea-serpent, though not the fabulous
monster so often written about, and yet whose existence cannot be
disproved. The sea-serpent's tail is flattened.

At Calcutta I visited a tea firm, who sent me up to Cachar to help at
one of the gardens till a vacancy should occur. Calcutta, by the way, is
or was overrun by jackals at night. They are the scavengers of the town
and hunt in packs through the streets, their wolfish yelling being a
little disconcerting to a stranger.

It was a long twelve days, but again a very interesting journey, in a
native river boat, four rowers (or towers), to my destination. I had a
servant with me, who proved a good, efficient cook and attendant. It was
rather trying to the "griffin" to notice, floating in the river, corpses
of natives, frequently perched upon by hungry vultures.

The tea-garden selected for me was Narainpore, successfully managed by a
fellow-countryman, who proved to be a capital chap and who made my stay
with him very pleasant. Narainpore was one of the oldest gardens, on
teelah (hilly) land and quite healthy. There I gave what little help I
could, picked up some of the lingo, and learned a good deal about the
planting, growth and manufacture of tea. Neighbours were plentiful and
life quite sociable. Twice a week in the cold weather we played polo,
sometimes with Munipoories, a hill tribe whose national game it is, and
who were then the undoubted champions. The Regent Senaputti was a keen
player, and very picturesque in his costume of green velvet zouave
jacket, salmon-pink silk dhotee and pink silk turban. In Munipoor even
the children have their weekly polo matches. They breed ponies specially
for the game, and use them for nothing else, nor would they sell their
best. Still, we rode Munipoor "tats" costing us from 50 rupees to 100.
They were exceedingly small, averaging not eleven hands high, but wiry,
active, speedy, full of grit, and seemed to love the game. As the game
was there played, seven formed a side, the field was twice as large as
now and there were no goals. The ball had to be simply driven over the
end line to count a score.

It may be remarked here that the great Akbar was so fond of polo, but
otherwise so busy, that he played the game at night with luminous balls.

These Munipoories were a very fine race of people, much lighter of
colour than their neighbouring tribes, very stately and dignified in
their bearing, and thorough sportsmen. Many of their women were really
handsome, and the girls, with red hibiscus blossoms stuck in their
jet-black hair, and their merry, laughing faces and graceful figures,
were altogether quite attractive to the Sahib Log.

But to return to tea. Our bungalow was of the usual type, consisting of
cement floor, roof of crossed bamboos and two feet of sun-grass thatch,
supported by immense teak posts, hard as iron and bidding defiance to
the white ants. The walls were of mats. Tea-gardens usually had a
surface of 300 to 1000 acres; some were on comparatively level ground,
some on hilly (teelah) land. These teelahs were always carefully
terraced to prevent the wash of soil and permit cultivation. The plants
were spaced about three to six feet apart, according to whether they
were of the Chinese, the hybrid, or the pure indigenous breed, the last
being the largest, in its native state developing to the dimensions of a
small tree.

I may as well here at once give a short sketch of the principal features
of tea planting and manufacture, which will show what the duties of a
planter are, and how various are the occupations and operations
embraced. One must necessarily first have labour (coolies). These are
recruited in certain districts of India, usually by sending good
reliable men, already in your employ, to their home country, under a
contract to pay them so much a head for every coolie they can persuade
(by lies or otherwise) to come to your garden. The coolies must then
bind themselves to work for you for, say, three to four years. They are
paid for their work, not much it is true, but enough to support them
with comfort; the men about three annas (or fourpence) a day, the women
two annas (or threepence). As they get to know their work and become
expert, the good men will earn as much as six annas a day, and some of
the women, when plucking leaf, about the same. This is more than
abundant for these people. They not only have every comfort, but they
become rich, so that in a few years they are able to rest on their
earnings, and work only at their convenience and when they feel like it.
They are supplied with nothing, neither food nor clothing; medicine
alone is free to them. The native staff of a garden consists of, say,
two baboos, or book-keepers and clerks, a doctor baboo, sirdars or
overseers, and chowkidars or line watchmen. A sirdar accompanies and has
charge of each gang of coolies on whatever branch of work. One is also
in charge of the factory or tea-house.

Plant growth ceases about the end of October. Then cold-weather work
begins, including the great and important operation of pruning, which
requires a large force and will occupy most of the winter. Also
charcoal-burning for next season's supply; road-making, building and
repairing, jungle-cutting, bridge-building, and nursery-making: that is,
preparing with great care beds in which the seed will be planted early
in spring. Cultivation is also, of course, carried on; it can never be
overdone. In the factory, some men are busy putting together or
manufacturing new tea-boxes, lining them carefully with lead, which
needs close attention, as the smallest hole in the lining of a tea-chest
will cause serious injury to the contents.

When spring opens and the first glorious "flush" is on the bushes, there
is a readjustment of labour. Pluckers begin to gather the leaf, and as
the season advances more pluckers are needed, till possibly every man,
woman and child may be called on for this operation alone, it being so
important that the leaf flush does not get ahead and out of control, so
that the leaf would get tough and hard and less fit for manufacture;
but cultivation is almost equally important, and every available
labourer is kept hard at it.

What a pleasure it is to watch a good expert workman, be he carpenter,
bricklayer, ploughman, blacksmith, or only an Irish navvy. In even the
humblest of these callings the evidence of much training, practice or
long apprenticeship is noticeable. To an amateur who has tried such work
himself it will soon be apparent how crude his efforts are, how little
he knows of the apparently simple operation. The navvy seems to work
slowly; but he knows well, because his task is a day-long one, that his
forces must be economised, that over-exertion must be avoided. This
lesson was brought home to me when exasperated by the seeming laziness
of the coolie cultivators, I would seize a man's hoe and fly at the
work, hoe vigorously for perhaps five minutes, swear at the man for his
lack of strenuousness, then retire and find myself puffing and blowing
and almost in a state of collapse.

If an addition or extension is being made to the garden, the already cut
jungle has to be burnt and the ground cleared in early spring, the soil
broken up and staked: that is, small sticks put in regular rows and
intervals to show where the young plants are to be put. Then when the
rains have properly set in the actual planting begins. This is a work
that requires a lot of labour and close and careful superintendence.
Imagine what it means to plant out 100 acres of ground, the plants set
only three or four feet apart! The right plucking of the leaf calls for
equally careful looking after. The women are paid by the amount or
weight they pluck, so they are very liable to pluck carelessly and so
damage the succeeding flush, or they may gather a lot of old leaf
unsuited for manufacturing purposes. In short, every detail of work,
even cultivation, demands close supervision and the whole attention of
the planter.

When the new-plucked leaf is brought home it is spread out to wither in
suitably-built sheds. (Here begins the tea-maker's responsibility.) Then
it must be rolled, by hand or by machinery; fermented, and fired or
dried over charcoal ovens; separated in its different classes, the
younger the leaf bud the more valuable the tea. It is then packed in
boxes for market, and sampled by the planter. He does this by weighing a
tiny quantity of each class or grade of tea into separate cups, pouring
boiling water on them, and then tasting the liquor by sipping a little
into the mouth, not to be swallowed, but ejected again.

[Illustration: PLUCKING TEA LEAF.]

All this will give an idea of the variety of duties of a tea-planter. He
has no time for shooting, polo, or visiting during the busy season. But
at mid-winter the great annual Mela takes place at the station, the
local seat of Government. The Mela lasts a couple of weeks, and it is a
season of fun and jollity with both planters and natives. There were two
or three social clubs in Silchar; horse and pony racing, polo, cricket
and football filled the day, dinner and sociability the night; and what
nights! The amount of liquor consumed at these meetings was almost
incredible.

Nothing can look more beautiful or more gratifying to the eye of the
owner than a tract of tea, pruned level as a table and topped with new
fresh young leaf-shoots, four to eight inches high, in full flush, ready
for the pluckers' nimble fingers.

At the end of one year I was offered and accepted the position of
assistant at a Sylhet garden, called Kessoregool, the property
consisting of three distinct gardens, the principal one being directly
overseered by the manager, an American. He, of course, was my superior.
My charge was the Lucky Cherra Gardens, some few miles away. There I
spent two years, learning what I could of the business, but without the
advantage of European society; in fact, the Burra Sahib and myself were
almost the only whites in the district, and as he was drunk quite half
the time, and we did not pull very well together, I was left to my own
resources. I found amusement in various ways. There was no polo, but
some of the native zemindars (landed proprietors) were always ready to
get up a beat for leopards, tigers, deer and pig. Their method was
simply to drive the game into a net corral and spear them to death. The
Government Keddas, under Colonel Nuttal, were also not far away in hill
Tipperah, and it was intensely interesting to watch operations. Close to
my garden also was a sacred pool and a very beautiful waterfall. This
was visited twice a year by immense numbers of natives, some from great
distances, for it was a famous and renowned place of pilgrimage. It
could only be approached through my garden; and as there was no wagon
road, the pilgrims were always open to inspection, so to speak; and they
were well worth inspection, as among them were many races, all ages,
both sexes, every caste or jat; robes, turbans and cupras of every shape
and colour; fakirs and wonder-workers, and beggars galore. Here, and on
such an occasion only, could the sahib see face to face the harems of
the wealthy natives, consisting of women who at no other time showed
themselves out of doors. Being the only sahib present I had all the "fun
of the fair" to myself, but always regretted the want of a companion to
share it with me.

As to wild game, there were lots of jungle fowl (original stock of our
familiar barn-door cocks and hens), a few pigeons, Argus pheasants,
small barking deer, pigs, sambur, barrasingha, metnas, crocodiles,
leopards, tigers, bears and elephants; but I had little time for
shooting and it was expensive work, the jungle being so thick that
riding elephants were quite necessary. If keen enough, one could sit all
night on a machan in a tree near a recent "kill," on the chance of
Stripes showing himself; but it never appealed to me much, that kind of
sport. If a tiger was raiding the cattle I would poison the "kill" with
strychnine. In this way I secured several very fine animals, getting two
at one time, so successfully poisoned that their bodies actually lay on
the dead bullock. One time I shot an enormous python, some eighteen feet
in length, which took several men to carry home. Monkeys were plentiful
and of several kinds. I was very fond of wandering amongst the high-tree
jungle and quietly watching their antics. In the dense forest there is
little undergrowth, so that one can move about freely and study the
extraordinary forms of vegetation displayed. Ticks and leeches are to
be dreaded--a perfect nuisance. If you sit down or pause for a few
moments where no leeches are in sight, suddenly and quickly they will
appear marching on you, or at you, at a gallop.

The popular idea of a wealth of flowers in tropical jungles is a
misconception. In tree jungle no flowers are to be found, or at any rate
they are not visible. But if one can by some means attain an elevation
and so be able to overlook the tree-tops, he will probably be rewarded
with a wonderful display, as many jungle trees are glorified with crowns
of gorgeous colours. There will he also discover the honey-suckers,
moths, butterflies, the beetles, and all the other insect brood which he
had also vainly looked for before. The fruits are likewise borne aloft,
and therefore at the proper time these tree-tops will be the haunt of
the monkeys, the parrots, the bats, the toucans, and all frugivorous
creation.

Of all fruits the durian is the most delicious. Such is the universal
opinion of men, including A. R. Wallace, who have had the opportunity of
becoming familiar with it. It is purely tropical, grows on a lofty tree,
is round and nearly as large as a cocoanut. A thick and tough rind
protects the delicacy contained within. When opened five cells are
revealed, satiny white, containing masses of cream-coloured pulp. This
pulp is the edible portion and has an indescribable flavour and
consistence. You can safely eat all you want of it, and the more you eat
the more you will want. To eat durian, as Mr Wallace says, is alone
worth a voyage to the East. But it has one strange quality--it smells so
badly as to be at first almost nauseating; some people even can never
bring themselves to touch it. Once this repulsion is mastered the fruit
will probably be preferred to all other foods. The natives give it
honourable titles, exalt it, and even wax poetical over it.

Of course we all know the multitudinous uses of the bamboo. This grass
is one of the most wonderful, beautiful and useful of Nature's gifts to
uncivilized man. And yet one more use has been found for it. In the East
a new industry has sprung up, viz., the making of "Panama" hats of
bamboo strips or threads. In texture and pliability these hats are said
to even surpass the genuine "Panamas," are absolutely impervious to
rain, and can be produced at a much lower cost.

The Looshais killed pigs, and even tigers, by ingeniously setting
poisoned arrows in the woods, which were released by the animals
pressing on a string. One of my coolies was unfortunate enough to be
shot and killed in this way.

Growing on decayed tree stumps I frequently found a saprophyte
(_hymenophallus_), much larger than its English representative, indeed a
monster in comparison, and possessing a vile and most odious smell, yet
attractive to certain depraved insects.

I made a very fine collection of butterflies, moths and beetles, which,
however, was entirely destroyed by worms or ants during its passage to
England. The magnificent Atlas moth was common in Sylhet and Cachar.
What an extraordinarily beautiful creature it is, sometimes so large as
to cover a dinner-plate. I never was privileged to see it fly. It seemed
to be always in a languid or torpid condition.

Thunderstorms occur almost daily during the wet season. By lightning I
lost several people. In one case, whilst standing watching a man remove
seedlings from a nursery bed, standing indeed immediately behind and
close to him, there came a thrilling flash of lightning. It shook myself
as well as several women who stood by. The man in front of me, who had
been sitting on his haunches with a steel-ribbed umbrella over him,
remained silent and still. At last I called on him to continue his work
and pulled back the umbrella to see his face. He was stone dead.
Examination showed a small blackish spot where the steel rib had rested
and conveyed the fatal shock.

The approach of the daily rainstorm, usually about noon, was a
remarkable sight. Immense fan-shaped, thunderous-looking clouds would
come rolling up, billow upon billow, travelling at great speed and
accompanied by terrific wind. A flash of lightning and a crashing peal
of thunder and the deluge began, literally a deluge. The rainfall
averaged about 180 inches in seven months. At Cherrapunji, in the Kassia
Hills, within sight of my place and only about twenty miles distant, the
rainfall was and is the greatest in the world, no other district
approaching it in this respect, viz., averaging per annum 450 inches;
greatest recorded over 900 inches; and there is a record of _one_ month,
July, of a fall of nearly 400 inches; yet all this precipitation takes
place during the six or seven wet months, the rest of the year being
absolutely dry and rainless. These measurements are recorded at the
Government Observatory Station and need not be disputed. It may readily
be supposed that the wet season, summer, with its high temperature and
damp atmosphere, was very trying to the European, and even to the
imported coolies. Imagine living for six continuous months in the
hottest palm-house in Kew Gardens; yet the planter is out and about all
day long; nearly always on pony back, however, an enormously thick solah
toppee hat or a heavy white umbrella protecting his head. The dry, or
cold season, however, was delightful.

Close to Lucky Cherra Garden was a tract of bustee land on which some
Bengali cultivators grew rice and other crops. Our Company's boundary
line in some way conflicted with theirs, and a dispute arose which soon
developed into a series of, first, most comical mix-ups, and afterwards
into desperate "lathi" fights. The land in dispute was being hurriedly
ploughed by buffalo teams belonging to the Bengalis; to uphold our claim
I also secured teams and put them to ploughing on the same piece of
ground. This could only lead to one thing--as said before, terrific
lathi fights between the teamsters. For several days I went down to see
the fun, taking with me a number of the stoutest coolies on the garden.
The men seemed to rather enjoy the sport, though a lick from a lathi (a
formidable tough, hard and heavy cane) was far from a joke. Finally the
bustee-wallahs agreed to stop operations and await legal judgment.

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