Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 87, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 April 1919 — The RIVER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The RIVER

When the Colorado Burst Its Banks and Flooded the Imperial Valley of California

By Ednah Aiken

CHAPTER XVlll—Continued. His eyes glued to the lurching sta-tion-hOuse, Babcock took a brown-paper-rolled cigarette from the proffered box. . • “Look.” he crFed. "There, she’ll go. See that—” There was a splash of splintering timber; a Niagara of spray as the building fell into the flood. A minute later, a wreckage of painted boards was floating downstream. At table Babcock resumed his campaign. "The trouble with you all, you have cold feet. You’re all scared off -too soon.” Wooster, up _ from his nap, looked across the table. "Cold feet? So you’d have if you- had been, up for nights, wetting your feet on the levee, as some ofushave, as Hardin has. Mine are cold all right.” He lifted an amazed foot. “Cold! Look herd, boys, they’re wet!” The men looked to find the water creeping in—Bab- ’ cock climbed on his chair. “This meaner the station,” cried Wooster. Every man jumped. If the waters had got to them,' it Wouldn’t be long before they were reaching the O. P. depot! The tracks would go— They were piling out of the door when the telephone caught them. It was a message from Rickard. A car was to be rigged up, papers, tickets and express matter taken from the station. The river was cutting close to the track. The car would be the terminal, a half-mile from town. The situation looked black. Coul-

ter, Eggers, began to pack their stock. The levee, it was said, would not hold —half of Mexicali was gone. Calexico would go next. Rickard's Indians were kept stolidly piling brush and stuffed sacks on the levee. This, the word rah, would be the fierce night—no one expected to sleep. They were preparing for the big battle, the final struggle, when the grade recession passed the town. Spectacular as was its coming, there was an anticlimax in its retreat. The water reached the platform of the depot, and halted. The town held its breath. There was some sleep that night. The next day, the nerves of the valley relaxed. The river was not cutting back. The men at the levee dropped their shovels, and went back to the discussion of their lawsuits. Their crops were ruined; too much water, or too little. Whatever way they had been hurt, the company would have to pay for it! A small shift guarded the river. Rickard, in his room at the Desert hotel, and Hardin up the river, slept a day and a night without waking. , The chalr-tllters picked up their argument where they had left it; was the railroad reaping a harvest of damage suits when they should be thanked instead? Faraday, the newspapers reported, was 'trying to shift his responsibility ; he had appealed to the

president Their correspondence was published. The government was in no hurry to take the burden. A telegraphic sermon, preaching duty, distributing blame, was sent from Wash* Ington. Perhaps not Faraday himself was more disturbed than the debaters of the Desert hotel. “The railroad’s no infant in arms! Jt wasn’t asleep when it took over the affairs of the D. R.” Here spoke the majority. “A benefaction! It was self-interest! When the river is harnessed, who’ll profit the most from the valley prosperity? It can afford to pay the obligations; that is, it could. It will find a way,” the ravens croaked, “of shaking the Desert Reclamation company’s debts; of evading the damage suits. Look how Hardin was treated!" The feeling ran higher. For many of the ranchers were ruined; there was no money to put in the next year’s crop unless the promises of the irrigation company were kept A

few landowners, and others who had pot completed their contracts, distrusting the good faith of the company, or its ability to pay. had “quit” in disgust, to begin again somewhere else. Parrish, and Dowker, and Others of the “Sixth” scoured district had secured the promise of erajiloyment at the Heading. Work, it was expected, would be begun at once now that the danger to Calexico had passed. CHAPTER XIX. , More Oratory. Four men sat at a small table in a corner of the crowded hotel diningroom, in El Centro. Their names made their corner the psychological center of the room. Marshall was always a target of speculation. MacLean, straight and soldierly in his mustard-colored clothes, was, as usual, the man of distinction. Black started the whisper going that the dark stranger was General de la Vega, the Mexican commissioner. What was he doing in that group? Babcock completed a combination which encouraged speculations and head-shakings. The . room was jammed with valley men. The meeting of the ranchers and the several water companies had been called for that afternoon, the summons signed by Faraday himself. Nothing else had been talked of for a fortnight.

It waa known throughout the valley that the work at the intake was not yet begun; that Rickard was waiting there for-orders; that Faraday and the president of the United States were involved in correspondence as to the responsibility for the future control of the river. Faraday’s eagerness to shift his burden was looked upon as suspicious. It was in the air that the officers of the Overland Pacific would demand a recall of the damage suits before they would complete the protective works at the Heading. The men of long vision,. members of the Water companies, and Brandon, through the valley Star, were pointing out that the valley’s salvation depended on the immediate control of the river; that the railroad, only, had power to effect it. These conservatives were counseling caution. Only that morning, the Star had issued an extra, a special edition pleading for co-opera-tion. “If the river breaks out again,” warned Brandon’s editorial, “without immediate force to restrain it, reclamation for that valley is a dream that is done. And the only force equal to that emergency is the railroad. Why delibesntely antagonize the railroad? The Desert Reclamation company, it is well known, is bankrupt. For the instant, the railroad has assumed the responsibilities of the smaller organization. Apply the same situation to Individuals. Suppose a private citizen is in straits, and another comes forward to help him. Must every creditor assume that the Samaritan should pay the crushed citizen’s bills? In the present issue, self-interest should urge consideration. Better a small loss today that tomorrow may amply refund, than total ruin in the future.” . Hardin, from his morose unshared table, could see the anxious curiosity setting toward the railroad group. Over glasses, heads were close together. Near him, the talk ran high. Scraps of inflammable speeches blew his way from Barton’s party. Hardin’s mouth wore a set sneer. “Water company talk!” Black was haranguing his comrades. “Stand out against them. Don’t let them bluff you. Marshall will try to bluff you. Stand together!” Barton’s resonant organ broke through the clatter. “Marshall is not going to bluff us.” Grace and Black began to talk at once. Hardin’s lip grew rougher. had they all been if It had not been for him? Why, he d pulled them from their little farms back East, where they were toiling —where they’d, be toiling yet. They’d had the vision of sudden wealth —they hadn’t the grit to work for it, to wait for it! How many years had he been struggling? He was a young man when he’d gone into this thing, and he was old now. Coffee and cigars had been reached of the midday dinner. Babcock was nervously consulting his watch. “Shouldn't we arrange the meeting?” he asked for the third time, \ The social and casual air of the meeting had teased him. What had the poi litical situation in Mexico to do with | the important session confronting .them? His fussy soul had no polite salons; office rooms every • one of them. Mac Lean looked to Tod Marshall to answer. “I think it * ill arrange itself.” His voice was silken. “It is to be a discussion, a conference. You can’t slate that” “We could program,” began Babcock, looking at his watch again. “I don’t think we’ll have to.” Marshall smiled across the table. “You’ll find tbi? meeting will run itself. There Ts'not a man here who is not burning to speak. Look at them now! Drop a paper in that crowd, and see the blaze you’d get! You can open the meeting, Mr. Babcock, and I would

suggest that you call on Mr. De la Vega first” 11 The eyes of the dining room followed the party as they filed past the buzzing tables. Faraday was not in town; Marshall represented that power. As he walked out, bowing right and left„ his right hand occasionally extended.in his well-known oratorical, courteous gesture. His black tie was stringing down his shirt front; his black clothes were the worse for his lunch. But no one, save the Eastern girls, saw spots or tie. The future of that valley lay in that man’s hand, no matter how Black or Grace might harangue. In five minutes, the dining room was emptied. ■ :. '— As snow gently falling, had gathered the first damage suits of the ranchers. The last flood had precipitated a temperamental storm. Men were suing for the possible values of their farms, impossible values of crops. Not alone the companies had been blanketed with the accusing papers, but against Mexico the white drifts had piled up. Mexico! No one knew better than Hardin how absurd it was ta accuse the sister country of responsibility. A pretty pickle they were in! Where was it all going to end? In the lobby, Hardin ran up against Brandon, who was following a news scent. Through the valley it was being rumored that subscriptions were to be asked for the completion of the work. If this were the Intention, there would be a hot meeting.

“You are going on the platform?” assumed the newspaper mah. “No? Then will you sit with me?” “If you will sit upstairs,” scowled Hardin, “I don’t want to be dragged onto the platform.” Down in the orchestra, Black from the Wistaria was haranguing a group of gesticulating ranchers. Phrases climbed to the men on the balcony seats. “Keep their pledges. Promise makers. Let them look at our crops 1” “If Marshall expects to coerce those men, I lose my guess. Then he’s no judge of men,” cried Hardin. “Look at those faces.” The floor was a sea of impassioned features. “Something’s going to drop,” echoed Brandon. From the wings, Babcock’s inquisitive glasses were seen to sweep the house. Hardin could catch the summons of an excited forefinger to the group unseen., There was a minute of delay. Then Babcock’s nervous toddle carried him onto the stage. De la Vega followed Babcock. There was a hush of curiosity. The house did not know who he was. Behind him, soldierly, stiff, stalked MacLean. Marshall’s entrance released the tongues. There was an interval of confusion on the stage. Babcock, like a restless terrier, was snapping at the heels of the party. At last, they were all fussily seated. De la Vega was given the place of honor. Marshall, Babcock put on his left, Mac Lean on the right. Babcock raised his staccato gaveL A hush fell on the house. His words were .clipped and sharp. “You have left your plowing to come here. You are anxious to hear what we have to say to you. You cannot afford to be indifferent to it. You acknowledge, by your presence, a dependence, a correlation which you would like to deny. Irrigation means co-operation, suffering together, struggling together, succeeding together. You prefer the old individual way, each man for himself. I tell you it won’t do. You belong in other coun- | tries, the countries of old-fashioned rain. You want to hear what we have to say to you, the company who saved the valley, the company you are suing. But you have also suits against Mexico. There is a gentleman here who has a message from Mexico about those suits. I have the honor, gentle-/ men, to introduce, Senor de la Vega.” “Ladies,” bowed the Mexican. “Gentlemen, Mr. Chairman. It is with an appreciation of the honor that I accepted for today the invitation of Mr. Marshall to speak before you, to speak to you; I must tell you first my thought as I sat there and looked at you, the youth, the flower of the American people. A few years agsu wewere calling this the great Colorado desert; now, the world calls it the hothouse of America. This theater Is built over the bones of gold-seekers, who dared . death in this dreaded desert to find what was buried in those mountains beydnd. The man, I say, who crossed this desert, took the hazard of death. It was a countryman of mine who piloted, fifteen years ago, a little band of men, across the desert. Perhaps he camped on this very spot. It is not impossible! It is herO. perhaps, that he got his inspiration. He saw a wonderful territory; he dreamed to quicken it with the useless waters of the Colorado. You will all agree that it was Guillermo Estrada who dreamed the dream that has come true; that it was through him that some of your countrymen secured their privilege to reclaim this land. Later, when ohe of your countrymen found he could not fulfill his promise to you, the promise to deliver water to. your ranches, he came

to my nation and got permission to cut into the river on our territory. Most gladly did Porfirio Diaz grant that privilege. For that, today, you are suing him. This, I am told, is your complaint.” . His abrupt pause betrayed a confused murmur of voices. De la Vega’s polite ear tried to differentiate the phrases. There was a jumble of sound. De la Vega looked Inquiringly at Babcock, who waved him on. “It has.nothing to do with the history, but I would like to say in passing that so assured were your people of our frendly feeling toward you that they did not wait to receive permission from-Mexico-to make the cut. Your people were In a hurry. Your crops were in danger. First the lack of water, then too much;water damaged your valley. A few acres —” A voice from the crowd cried out, “A few acres? Thousands of acres." Instantly others were on their feet “Thousands of acres. Ruin.” One man was shouting himself apoplectic. Babcock’s gavel sounded a sharp staccato on the table.

“Thousands of acres.” De la Vega was unruffled. “And more than that The valley, it must be remembered, does not stop at the line. Mexican lands, too, have been scoured by the action, the result of the action of your irrigation company. It was a mutual,” he paused, and a quaint word came to his need. “A mutual bereavement It did not occur to us to accuse you of our troubles. Your damage suits pained and astonished us. But they gave us also a suggestion.” The rustling and the murmurs suddenly ceased. A prescient hiish waited on De la Vega. “You have.been advised to sue us. To sue us for giving you that concession. Therefore, the only answer is for us to withdraw that concession! You accuse us, for giving it to you. That concession is valuable. What else can we do? Before your damage suits were filed, we were approached by others for the same privilege. If you do not withdraw your suits, my nation sends word to you that you may not take-water from the Colorado river through Mexican soil. You will not be without water probably long; I have said that concession is valuable! Other arrangements will probably be made so that the valley will be given water. I would like to take your answer to my government.” It was several seconds before the house got its breath. The import of the diplomat’s words was astounding. Barton got to his feet, yelling with his great bass ' voice, “Betrayed!” His shrunken finger indicated a youth with “R. S.” in black letters on his collar. “The valley has been betrayed.” In the balcony, the uproar was deafening. Around Hardin and Brandon words were thudding like bullets. “Reclamation Service.” “That’s their game.” “The concession!” “They won’t get it” “Betrayed. We are betrayed.” Downstairs. Babcock’s gavel rapped unheard. Behind the excited figure wielding the stick, sat Marshall, his unreadable, sweet smile on his face. His eyes were on Babcock, who was vainly clamoring for order. “Program that meeting.” Hollister was trying to make himself heard to Barton over two rows of seats, but bls voice was like a child’s on an ocean beach. Barton was surrounded by eager anxious men. The audience had split into circles of haranguing centers. It was impossible to get attention. Hardin could see Marshall pull Babcock by the tails of his coat. Unwillingly, he could see Babcock allow the crowd five minutes by his consulted watch. Then again, the gavel danced on the table. Marshall was -atlH smiling. Babcock’s shrill voice split the din. “Order.” The ocean of voices swallowed him again. “We won’t let them in,” Grace was bellowing, “the valley won’t stand for it.” “Take your medicine,” thundered the big organ of Barton. “I warned you, Imperial valley.” “Betrayal.” groaned the crowd. Down in the orchestra, Barton was holding a htirry-up meeting of the water companies. De la Vega had stepped back and was consulting with Tod Marshall. Babcock pulled out his watch, his gavel calling for attention. This time he was heard. De la Vega approached the footlights, a questioning look on his face. “We ask for a little time,” began Barton. Instantly the house was on its feet. “Withdraw the suits. Give him your answer. Give him our answer. We don’t want the Service. The valley don't .want the Service. Withdraw the suits.” i Barton’s moon face looked troubled. “We can’t answer for all the ranchers.” “Yes, you can,” screamed Grace, jumping up and down like a baboon. “If you don’t? Til answer for them. Don’t you see, It’s a trick? It’s a trick. I see the handof the O. P- in this.” Friendly handspulled him down Into his seat. The audience was chanting. ’’Withdraw the suits. Take your medicine. —Don’t lose the • concession.—Lord,

the Service!—Give them the answer now.” Barton held up a withered hand. The undeveloped body was dignified by the splendid head. “Don’t withdraw your concession. I think I can say that Mexico will not be sued.” Again, the shout went up. “Answer like a man. Think! Good Lord! Say we withdraw the suits!” “We withdraw the claims against Mexico.” Barton sat down to a sudden hush. The first blood had been let. Once more Babcock’s glasses swept the house. He rapped the table. “That’s not all. We’ve got more Jo say to you. Gentlemen, Mr. Marshall.” Marshall stepped forward to a silence which was a variety of tribute. He bowed. “I will be brief. Mr. Faraday has asked me to take his place here this afternoon. It’s only

fair. If it were not for my Interference, he would not be involved in this situation. I think you will grant that it Is Mr.' Faraday’s company which can save the valley?” “To save its own tracks!” yelled a voice from the balcony. Marshall sent a soft smile heavenward. “Incidentally. And its traffic. Why don’t you say it? We don’t deny that The Overland Pacific’s no altruist.” There was a Jeer which rose into a chorus. “Altruist 1 Octopus. That’s what it is.” Marshall’s hand went up. “If you want to hear me?” He waved away Babcock’s descending gavel. “I was told it would cost two hundred thousand dollars to close that break of yours. Do you want the actual figures? It has eaten already a million, and the work is not yet done. You know the history of the undertaking: The Desert Reclamation company was in straits. Faraday promised his help on the condition that the affairs of the Desert Reclamatldh company would be controlled by his company. He took the control. He inherited"what? Not good will. Threats, damage suits. Do you think that snowslide of complaints is going to encourage him to go on? This is what I came here to talk to you about. You ranchers don’t'want to cut your own throats. Now, there’s a good deal going on about which you are in the dark. Faraday’s got a right to feel he’s shouldered an old man of the sea. He’s been trying to dislodge it He’s appealed to the president Ever since we came Into this, the cry from Washington has been, ‘Do this the way we like, or we’ll not take it off your hands.’ ” A murmur of angry voices started somewhere, swelling toward the balcony. “We don’t want the government—” began the rising voices. Marshall’s voice rang out: "But the government wants —you 1 Unless you will help save your own homes, the government will have to, In time. It’s got to. Up there at Laguna, have you seen it? There’s nothing going on. They’re watching us. That’s a useless toy if our works are washed out. Faraday says this to you—” Not a sound in the stilled house. “Unless you withdraw your damage suits, he won’t advance another damned cent.” Sharply he sat down before the audience realized that his message was finished. The house had not found its voice, when Babcock’s gavel was pounding again for attention. The question, he felt, had not been put to them completely. Perhaps, they did not gather the full import of Mr. Marshall’s message. Mr. Mac Lean would follow Mr, Marshall. ' Mac Lean’s superb figure rose from a tree-paneled background. “He should sing -Brown October Ale,’ ” suggested Brandon to Hardin humorously. Hardin’s eyes were on Mac Lean. What did he know about it? What could he tell those men that they did not know? Map Lean was a figurehead in the reorganized irrigation company. Why hadn’t .they called on him, Har-

din? He knew more about the involved history of the two companies than the whole bunch on the stage down yonder. Tie could have told them, he coula*have called on their Justice, their memory— Mac Lean was speaking. “Mr. Marshall has likened the river project to the old man of the sea. He has it on his back, while it is busily kicking him in the shins! “Mr. Marshall has given you Mr. Faraday’s message. He has asked you to dismiss- your damage suits. I ask you to do more than that. Put your hands in your pockets! Come out and help us. You don’t want the government. I am told that is the sentiment of the valley. When you called to them, they wouldn’t help you ; they wouldn’t give you an adequate price. Congress will soon be adjourning. What is Mr. Faraday to say to Washington? Is he going to close that break? That depends on you. Withdraw your suits. Do more. Stop fighting against us. Fight with us —” The audience stirred ominously, angrily. Before Maclean was done, a voice screamed from the balcony. “You can’t quit. That’s a threat. You’re in too deep. You can’t fool us. You’ve got to save yourself. You’ve got to go on. Tell Faraday to tell that to Washington.” The uproar was released. Black, from the Wistaria, jumped on his chair. “I am speaking for the valley. We can’t help. You know it. We’re stripped. We’re ruined. You think to threaten us with the government—if we wait for the government to decide, the valley is gone—and the railroad’s money with it. I tell you, your bluff won’t go. We want Justice. We are going to have Justice.” “Justice!” came from the surging ranchers. “Fair play,” yelled Black. “You can’t trick us. We were not born yesterday. We have rights. The company brought us here. What did we give our money for? Desert land? What good is this laud without water? We bought wat?r. Give us back the money we’ve put in—that’s what we’re asking for. We won’t be scared out of our rights.”

There was a growling accompaniment from the back rows, herding together. “Order,”' cried Babcock, thumping his gavel. “Let Mr. Black have the floor.” Black had not stopped. Wildly his hands cut the air. His speech, though high-pitched, had a prepared sound; it Worked toward a climax. He gave individual instances of ruin. “Grace, Willard Grace, his crop gone, his place cut in two. Hollister and Wilson of the Palo Verde, the ranch a screaming horror. Scores of others.” He Would not mention his own case; and then he itemized his Parrish, his place scoured beyond all future usefulness. What had they come into the valley for? Who had urged them? There were pledges of the D. R., water pledges. That was all those ruined men were pleading, the redemption of those pledges. Individual ruin, what did it mean? A curtailing of lux* , urles, of personal indulgence. “I tell you, it means food, bread, potatoes; milk for the babies; or starvation.” Black had touched the deep note. This was the answer. This was what they wanted to say. “You ask us to help you, us, we who are taxed already to our breaking posit. You say your company won’t go any further. What does that help mean to you? Poverty? A few thousands, a million to the O. P., a corporation, what does a loss mean to them? Poverty? I tell you, no. A smaller dividend, maybe, to whom? Yes, to whom? To the men who live in Fifth avenue, whose wives are dragged about in limousines. Withdraw their suits? Help Faraday, and ruin men like Parrish? Men of the valley, what is your answer to Faraday?” The crowd was on its feet, swaying and pushing. The air was fetid with breaths. Wilson’s crowd had forgotten its lorgnettes. “No,” yelled the ranchers. “We say, no.” A boy made his way from the wings, a yellow envelope in his hand. Babcock waved him on to Marshall. The audience was crying itself hoarse. Babcock lost control of the meeting in that minute of turning. Hollister, of the Palo Verde, was striving to be heard; Babcock’s hammer sounded in vain. But Marshall’s eye had caught a spark from the yellow sheet. He sprang forward, throwing the dlsphtch toward Mac Lean. His excitement caught the eye of the crowd. “The rlvef!” There was a subden hush. “The river’s out again!”.! a groan swept through the house, there was a break toward the doors. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

The Ranches Were Ruined.

Marshall's Voice Rang Out.