The infant industry of buying worthless cattle, inoculating them
with pleuro-pneumonia and tuberculosis, and collecting the indemnity
when they are officially put to death to prevent the spread of the
contagion, is assuming something of the importance and dignity of a
national pursuit. The proprietors of one of the largest contageries on
Long Island report that the outlook is most encouraging; they begin
each fiscal year with a large surplus in their treasury. Some of the
Western companies, too, have been highly prosperous and intend to mark
their gratification by an immediate issue of new shares as a bonus.
The effect of this industry upon pastoral pursuits is wholesome. The
stock ranges of Texas, Wyoming and Montana thrill with a new life,
and it is estimated that their enlargement during the next few years
will bring not less than five million acres of public land into the
service of man and beast. The advantage to manufacturers of barbed-wire
fencing is obvious, while the indirect benefit to agriculture through
the enhanced price of this now indispensable material will supply
the protectionist with a new argument and a peculiar happiness.
Cattle-growing has hitherto been attended with great waste. A large
percentage of the “stock on hand” was unsalable. Failure of the cactus
crop, destitution of water and prevalence of blizzards, together with
such natural ills as cattle flesh is heir to, have frequently so
reduced the physical condition of the herds that not more than a half
would be acceptable to the buyer. The ailing remainder were of little
use. A few of the larger animals could be utilized by preparing them
as skeletons of buffaloes for Eastern museums of natural history,
but the demand was limited: nine in ten were suffered to expire and
become a dead loss. These are now eagerly sought by agents of the
contageries, purchased at good prices, driven by easy stages to the
railways and, arriving at their final destination, duly infected.
They are said to require less infection than they would if they were
in good condition, with what the life insurance companies are pleased
to call a fair “expectation of life.” Some of the breeders prefer to
isolate these failures and do their own infecting; but the tendency
in the cattle trade, as in all others, is toward division of labor.
The regular infectionaries possess superior facilities of inoculation,
and government inspectors prefer to do business at a few great
pleuro-pneumoniacal and tubercular centers rather than make tedious
journeys to distant ranges. The trend of the age is, in fact, toward
centralization.
The effect of the new industry upon commerce cannot be accurately
foreseen, but it is natural to suppose that it will largely increase
the importation of lowgrade cattle from South America. Hitherto it has
not been profitable to import any that were unfit for beef. But if the
_Bos inedibilis_, the milkless crowbait and other varieties “not too
good for human nature’s daily food”—in fact not good enough—can be
laid down in New York or New Orleans at a cost of not more than thirty
dollars each, including the purchase price of ten cents, and inoculated
before they have eaten their heads off, there would seem to be a
reasonable margin of profit in the traffic. If not, the legal allowance
for their condemnation and slaughter can be easily increased by
legislative action. If Congress will do nothing to encourage capital in
that direction the States most benefited by this extension of American
commerce can respond to the demand of the hour with a judicious
system of bounties. Importation of cheap foreign cattle eligible to
pleuro-pneumonia and the junior disorder will provide employment to a
great number of persons who, without apt appropriation’s artful aid,
might languish on farms and in workshops, a burden to the community and
a sore trial to themselves.