Part IX

My brother and I were working for an outfit called the Snyder ranch in the fall and winter of 61-62. This is up in Washington. Mrs. Snyder was the owner. She had inherited the place. She was not really “country,” preferring to live in the city. She had a place in Spokane and one down in California somewhere. Her late husband had owned the ranch for many years before being killed in an airplane crash.

After he died, she took a lot out of the place without putting much back in. This was another place I worked that we had to salvage parts wherever we could. I learned that was common with some of the old timers. I guess a penny saved is a penny earned. The problem was, the lady boss did not understand, not care, that you could not take a part off of a Ford truck to fix a Dodge.

They had not done any round up with the herd over the past few years. In fact, they had pretty much ignored the cattle completely for that time. They had left the bulls in with the cows. They had even left the calves in with them. So, we had a bunch of yearlings and two year olds running with the rest of the herd we when started there. The boss told us she did not want to be bothered with them, but we were to do what we could, plus cull out some to sell. There were a total of about 1000 head. Ron, my brother, and I knew the two of us could not hope to do much with that many cattle, especially this late in the season (it was already late September). We told her even if we did get some out to market, as late as it was the price would not be good. We suggested we just separate them, cut the bull calves, and hold them till spring. She would have none of that. She wanted the money now.

So, by using some old hay to bribe them, we moved them into some small pastures, breaking them into smaller groups. First this, we separated the older bulls, pushing them out into a separate pasture. We had a long hard time of separating the calves. We did not attempt to brand and cut them at that time. We just separated the bull calves from the heifers. We run the bull calves, about 150 head, out into a larger pasture that had a good stout fence, and kept the heifers nearby. There were about 200 head of two year olds heifers and maybe 75 yearlings. The rest of the herd we just turned out, back into the larger pastures. Then we pulled out about 50 head of two year old bull calves and shipped them to the sale, as is. I don’t know what they brought as the check was sent straight to the boss, but I know it could not have been much.

By this time it was getting on toward the end of October. We had already had a couple of snows, so we knew we were in for an early winter. Once we got the cattle separated the best we could figure, we had to haul hay in. I forgot to mention the boss had failed to order any hay that year for the upcoming winter. It had started to snow pretty regular and the hay man said if we wanted enough hay to get through the winter, we would have to help haul it. So, we spent a week of hard, cold days helping to haul in the hay.

Around the first of November, we finally got the boss to approve for the vet to come out and pregnancy check those heifer. We figured the older cows might make out ok through the winter, even if they were going to calf, but we needed to know what to prepare for with those young heifers. Damn near every one of those two year olds were pregnant. When we told the boss this, she was happy as she saw more money on the way. She did not see the hardships ahead for me, my brother, or those two-hundred head of first-calf heifers.

But, that’s what we were getting paid for.

If you check the records, it will show that winter was a real whooper. We had over 4 feet of snow on the ground by Christmas. The wind was constant, blowing snow drifts up against anything that stood still for five minutes, including the cattle. We had moved the main herd back in close so we could feed quicker and easier, though that was far from what anyone would consider easy. The bulls we allowed in with the young bulls. Let them fight it out for the time being. We could do something about them come spring.

The young heifers we kept in a couple of paddocks close to the barns. We felt they of all the herd needed to what protection they could get from the buildings and heavy wooden fences.

The snow mostly stopped by the middle of January. But, as anyone from the north knows, once the snow stops, the cold really sets in. From the middle of January clear through the end of February, it never got above freezing. Most of the nights is got down to minus 20 to minus 30 degrees, with a couple lower than that. Naturally, this is when those heifers began to calf. The party kicked off about the 10th of February. Believe me, I jest. It was no party!

I don’t know why Mother Nature decided to have cows mostly give birth at night, but I would say, out of those two hundred head, at least 180 head calved at night, usually sometime between midnight and day break. Ron and I took turns going out to check the herd during the nights. We tried to stay on 4 hour shifts, but once they started, it was more or less full time for both of us. We would go out, find a newborn, and try to get it up, dried off with a gunny sack, and in under it’s mother to suckle. The winds were really kicking and the temperatures were down in the minus 20s. I found calves frozen to the ground. Some had gotten to their feet and froze upright. Some had their little hooves froze to the ground and did not have the strength to break free. Most of those heifers tried to help their babies, but did not know what they were supposed to do. (I know, once they had a calf, they were no longer “heifers” but I still think of them as such. They were just way too young to be having calves. Many were probably shy of two years)

We would get the colder, weaker ones and bring them into the house, into the kitchen. We had the kitchen stove oven on high and the door open. We would bring the calf in and stand it in front of the stove, rubbing it with dry gunny sacks, trying to get circulation going. We’d pour warm water down it’s throat. We even tried Vodka on some of them. That worked a little.

My brother’s wife came down stairs one night and she told us later she counted 15 head of calves in her kitchen. Of course, you know what the floor must have looked like. Some nights went like that, some nights only a couple head were born. Every night we lost at least one.

Keep in mind, with all this night duty, we still had to be out in the morning to hay and break ice, and all the other chores needing done. In truth, I don’t know how we did it. I have never been so tired in my life, before or since.

Finally, around the first of March, it was over. We had almost two hundred head give birth over a 20 day period. And, as I said mostly at night. Now, for the unfortunate totals. By the start of spring, the first of April, we had a new calf croup, from those two-year olds, of 55 head! We had lost 75 percent of the crop. This was simply from the cold, the breeding of heifers, too young, to bulls too large, and insufficient nourishment. We also lost 30 or so head of the heifers.

When the boss came up in the spring, she was not happy, needless to say. She did not blame us, but she said she had enough of ranching. She had re-married and decide to sell out and go live with her new doctor husband.

I was surprised at how fast the ranch sold. It only took a couple of weeks. The new owners gave us a month, then brought in their own crew from another ranch they owned. Their place was adjoining this one and they were just going to combine the two.

So, once again, I was out on the road.