Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 106, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 September 1899 — HARVEST IN THE WHEAT BELT. [ARTICLE]

HARVEST IN THE WHEAT BELT.

Busy and Interesting; Days in the Great Northwest. The hum of the threshing machine will be heard for the next ninety days from the east line of Minnesota to the farther boundaries of the Dakotas. The land to dotted with grain stacks, usually in groups of four, though occasionally a fanner, who makes a herd or a flock the prominent feature of his husbandry, will have his entire crop stacked in a semicircle round the north and west sides of his corral. At intervals slender columns of smoke tell of a “steamer” at work from dawn till dark. A stranger in the country seeing the steamer moving from one job to another might Easily mistake the outfit for an "innovation in railroading. First comes the traction engine, not unlike a locomotive engine, although smaller and painted in brighter colors. Immediately behind the engine is the tender wagon fitted with a rack for hauling straw. Nearly every engine In the Northwest nowadays is a straw burner. Then comes the separator, a monster machine with 36 to 48-inch cylinder, and often a 60-inch separator. Behind the separator comes the tank, resembling very closely a Standard oil distributing wagon, which hauls water for the engine from the nearest windmill pump. Then the “trap wagon,” carrying the loose paraphernalia of the outfit, and the clothes and bedding of the men. If the threshers board with the owner of the grain this constitutes the train, but if, as is generally the case, the owner of the machinb boards his crew, the “grub shanty,” an ordinary house wagon, brings up the rear, making a train from 100 to 150 feet long. The modern separator comes pretty near being the “whole thing.” Instead of the threshing crew of our boyhood days—drivers, feeders, oilers, bandcutters, four to six pitchers, measurers and half a dozen straw stackers —the crew consists of a manager, usually the owner of the machine; engineer, oiler, waterman, six pitchers and a cook. Twenty years ago $1 a bushel was considered only a moderately “paying” price for wheat. Ten years back, when the market had worked down below 75 cents, the wheat farmer faced certain bankruptcy with a groan. Now, farmers in the Northwest are selling wheat, and making money, at 50 cents a bushel. Many factors contribute to make this possible, but heavier crops and lower wages are not among them. Lower prices on nearly everything he buys, especially machinery, leave the farmer a larger surplus from a given sum, but the result is brought about most of all by the improved machinery