printed in LA Times, August 11, 1903 and Covina Argus, Saturday, August 15
In these days when the fertile valleys of Southern California are cut up into small holdings and the large ranches are fast disappearing, the casual observer is apt to think that the business of cattle raising in Los Angeles County is a thing of the past. To a degree this is true, yet herds of considerable magnitude still roam the rich pastures of the Puente and Hollenbeck Hills, not far from Los Angeles.
On Saturday last their existence was brought forcibly to the minds of the peaceful orchardists when 400 head of these wild foothill cattle, owned by Col. F.M. Chapman, were driven from his Hollenbeck stock ranch in the hills south of Covina, in the charge of half a dozen typical vaqueros through the fertile Spadra and La Habra valleys to the stockyards of the Los Alamitos sugar factory to be fattened for the Los Angeles and local markets.
The drive which commenced at daylight on Saturday, was notable for the small damage done by the passing herd to the cornfields and watermelon patches of the thrifty ranchers who were unfortunate enough for the time being to reside near the path taken by the cattle, which in a dense cloud of dust, swept by like a Kansas cyclone. Now and then a fence was demolished, but the experienced drivers would soon head the mad rush, and a steer more refractory than the rest would son be thrown by a skillful riata.
A halt of thirty minutes was made in the Brea Cany0on near the oil wells, for lunch, and a little zest was furnished by one of the steers, which for its unruly propensities had been previously roped, breaking loose and making a mad charge upon the camp. In a moment every one was in motion and those who could reach a horse clambered helter-skelter onto the camp wagon as the animal rushed wildly through the “grub” which had been spread on the ground. After the animal had wreaked its vengeance on two bottles of Los Angeles brew and joined the herd, luncheon was completed without further incident.
Camp for the night was made at Buena Park and the cattle watered and corraled.
[This paragraph not in the LA Times article] Here Col. F.M. Chapman and the writer decided to forswear the easy and comfort of camp life and content themselves with the customary accommodations which can be secured at the usual country hotel. However, they counted without their host for on arriving at the hostelry of the village the genial host informed the Colonel that he could be cared but his hired man (meaning the writer) would have to make himself comfort able in the barn. A glance into the pocket glass revealed the wisdom of the arrangement. For no hobo who had ever traveled the brake beam, showed greater evidence of travel than this hired hand whose grimy face, the result of dust and sweat, would have put the countenance of a chimney sweep in the shade. However, after a bath in the horse trough, a compromise was effected, and the reporter was permitted on sufferance having paid his bill in advance, to occupy a suite on the first floor below the roof.
The cook roused the boys the next morning in the dark, and before the first sun rays struck the grass breakfast had been disposed of, saddle horses roped and saddled, the corral gates thrown down and the herd was pouring through the aperture for the last stage of the journey. Good drivers work their cattle with a wonderful absence of fuss and noise, and it was pretty to see the way in which these steers were started before the most suspicious of them grasped the idea that they were not moving of their own volition. This gentleness and delicacy of treatment is, of course, a matter of expediency: a steer, or worse still, an old cow that gets on the fight will quickly impart its excitement to its companions, and may cause endless trouble and extra work.
By 10’oclock the factory was reached. The cattle were driven into one large corral and there commenced the work of the day in cutting out eight or ten at a time to be weighed on a platform scale which was surrounded with strong timbers with a gate at each end. The operation of weighing is in this wise: Half a dozen men, well-mounted, enter the corral with the cattle, cutting out eight or ten, drive them into an adjoining paddock which contains the scale into which wings of fencing converge. The cattle are then bunched by the horsemen and are driven with a mad rush into the scale and the gates are immediately closed.
As the blood of both men and beast grew heated the scene became more exciting, but far less businesslike; the steers began to get wicked and chase their persecutors and now and then an animal more active than the rest would jump the five-foot stockade , which meant an exciting chase for the horsemen who were watching the fun on the outside
However two hours saw this entire band of 400 cattle weighed and the cows and steers placed in separate corrals.
Thousands of range cattle are fattened annually on beet pulp and molasses in corrals surrounding the beet sugar factories of California. On this food, a thrifty steer weighing 800 pounds will in ninety or 100 days put on from 450 to 550 pounds.
At the Los Alamitos factory the feed is controlled by the Pioneer Truck Company of Los Angeles, who fatten 3000 cattle annual in corrals covering a section of land surrounding the factory. This firm also controls the pulp of the Santa Maria factory where it is this year fattening 5000 head. At Alamitos the corrals are so arranged as to provide every facility for the rapid feeding of the stock and four men are caring for this vast herd. The pulp is loaded into cars at the factory and is run direct to the corrals on a narrow gauge line through the center of the corrals, the pulp being forked from the cars into the feeding troughs. All visitors to the stock yards are introduced to “Beck,” the faithful old mules who has been in the employ of the Fuller family for the past thirty years, and now in his declining years he is engaged in pulling the pulp cars.
[This paragraph not in LA Times version] During the trip from Covina to Los Alamitos, the cattle were in charge of F. Jackson, foreman of the Hollenbeck Ranch, C. Madison of the firm of Madison & Kendall, butchers, Otis Keeling, Carl Kendall, Porter Montgomery and our young friend Howard, the nine-year of son, of Charles Madison, and despite his youth, this gritty little youngster filled a man’s place throughout the drive.
