A Heritage We Guard

The first faint rays in the dawn of American  history disclosed to the earliest settlers the accumulated wealth of countless thousands  of years. From the beginning of time, nature had used this vast, almost uninhabited  continent as a treasure house for her abundant riches. The dense forest front effectively  shrouded in mystery all that lay beyond, holding within its depths a world such as we  in our time have never known. In that world, denizens of the wilderness surveyed a vast domain  over which they held undisputed sway. Here, countless creatures of the wild  found protection and sanctuary. Beyond the forests of the Appalachians, beyond  the Mississippi River, inland a thousand miles, a mighty treeless empire spread west to  faint horizons. It was an empire of grass. On this treeless grassland prospered  buffalo in numbers difficult to visualize today. History tells us of 40 million  buffalo. Well-fed on lush grasses, these powerful beasts were the largest of  all animals on the Great Plains. Where once the hoofbeats of a thousand thundering herds left  their mark, today there is but a romantic memory. Known first as Wapiti by Indians, there  were elk in herds of thousands throughout the land. In places where today  the traffic of great cities roars, the silence of the wild was often  shattered by the bugling of these great stags. Creatures like deer roamed  freely, governed only by the laws of nature. The pronghorned antelope, fastest runner in  America, ranged from the Great Plains to the Pacific. His sleek, graceful presence made him  one of the most magnificent of all big game animals. And grizzly bears, one-time monarch of  the wild, grizzlies roamed throughout the western part of America. They were huge, ponderous  beasts, often weighing 1,000 lbs or more. Grizzlies, though, were peaceful, even playful  animals when left alone. But when aroused, they fought with a savageness and fury  seldom seen in this world. These great bears, like all truly wild creatures, have lost in the  battle between the wilderness and man. Today, they are nearly gone. And the silence  of the great mountain ranges was often shattered by the shrill, defiant cry of  the American bald eagle. The bald eagle, mighty individual, fierce and free, symbol of  a great nation of free and independent people. On the continent's waterways, wildfowl bred and  lived and died in uncounted myriads. Egrets, herons, ducks, and a great variety, geese, and lesser birds found haven  in still ponds and quiet lakes. And of all these things,  no white man knew at first. Wild animals played a vital and dramatic role in  the settlement of our country. They provided the food and clothing that made it possible for early  explorers to live in the wilderness. Fortunes were made on the trails of the fur-bearers. Ever  alert for Indian attack, trappers pushed westward farther and farther into an uncharted continent  in search of valuable pelts more precious than gold and silver. The fur frontier preceded by  a hundred years the agricultural frontier in America and priceless cargos of American furs  were shipped to Europe at an enormous profit. Along the trails of trappers and  explorers, other men continued to penetrate the wilderness. They came to make  homes. They cleared more and more land, cleared land for cultivation of food  to feed themselves and their children. From crude iron they forged the plowshares  that planted a new civilization following an ever-expanding, ever-receding frontier.  And the others who came after them cleared the land just beyond. Little did they know  that in their zeal to conquer the wilderness, they were at the same time  sowing the seeds of adversity. And so, as we know, every day more and more  settlers took up the trail that led into the sunset. On and on they pressed until the far  west itself became settled. Here in the arid grassland cattle thrived and fattened. Great  herds of them roamed the prairies as did the buffalo before them. Fortunes were made  by cattle kings. Grinding jaws followed the receding grass up into the hills. For  ever-increasing numbers of cattle and sheep, the grass could not grow fast enough. They ripped  the grass cover from the soil and left it exposed to the ravages of wind and rain. It was here  that erosion first began in the Great West. “Where you going, Joe?” “Yeah. What's your hurry, Joe?” “I'm going up the river.” “And what's up the river, Joe?” “Well, there's a lot of free land to be  had up there, and I'm going to get mine.” (Laughter) Then westward to the vast open regions moved the  farmer. Cultivation spread over the land slowly at first because there were few people, but faster  and faster as more and more homesteaders were attracted by free land. Ever and ever increasing  in size and abundance were the crops. There was no thought of the damage that might follow.  It was a far cry from the wooden plow stock of the pioneer to the blades of steel that rolled  back more and more grassland, lifted the sod from the Great Plains. Finally, mass production reached  the farms. Protection was stripped from the land. There could be but one result. Along the highways and byways of the nation, wherever men lived on the land, the  ugly tooth marks of erosion told the same story. The story of man's needless  waste of nature's plentiful resources. And man paid a terrible price in human  suffering for his misuse of the land. Soil and wildlife had disappeared together  along with the vegetation that served as a protection to the one and a home for  the other. A billion gaping gullies encroached upon cultivated fields, pastures,  and even highways. Chasms carved by erosion, worn-out land now filled with  worn-out tools discarded by man. And each new storm cut deeper and  deeper into productive farmland. Rains falling on unprotected fields hastened  to collect in rills and gullies. Precious topsoil was washed from the land. Through every  channel flowed the dregs that choke our streams, the silt that destroys food and habitat for fish. Something had to be done. In Washington, the machinery devoted to the needs  of 130 million people was thrown into action. All over the country, demonstration areas were set  up to aid farmers in conserving their soil. Hugh Bennett, chief of the present-day Soil  Conservation Service, and Ding Darling, former chief of the Bureau of Biological Survey, knew  that wildlife and soil were related resources. In their conferences, they inaugurated a program  that recognized the interlocking nature of soil and wildlife problems. Vegetation used to protect  the soil provides a place for wildlife to live, and the measures for soil conservation  can be adapted to conserve wildlife. It was not forgotten in these conferences that  wildlife combats insect pests. Pests that already cost us more than a billion and a half dollars  every year. The Anopheles mosquito, for example, carrier of malaria, levies a toll of $125 million  yearly. This and other mosquitoes deposit their eggs on the water's surface and upon their larvae  feed the wildlife of the water. Death for the undesirable mosquito means life for desirable  forms of wildlife. $120 million racketeer, the cotton boll weevil, and the $25 million  gangster, the grasshopper, destroyer of corn and small grain. Throughout the Corn Belt  and Great Plains, grasshoppers may consume a farmer's entire crop in a few days. It is upon  insects such as these that many birds feed. The gulls of the Great Plains have long  been famous for the way they follow the plow and devour injurious insects turned  up in cultivation. In Salt Lake City, there is a monument to these gulls that  once saved the crops of the Mormons. Where they are not mistakenly persecuted, hawks  keep constant vigil over fields for destructive rodents. And at night, owls take up the hunt.  Between them, they wage never-ending aerial warfare on farm racketeers. But useful rodents  like the beaver build dams to store precious water in the high country where floods stop.  When storms and torrents burst upon the hills and threaten the valleys below, beaver dams slow  the rush of water downhill. Thus, they help retain upon the land untold quantities of precious  topsoil. And the beaver also has other uses. The romance of the fur business strikes a deep respondent chord in the hearts of  all who love beauty and adventure. Lustrous furs to adorn milady beautiful and a  thousand graceful models vie for the honor of displaying creations made from the pelts of  wild animals found on the farms of America. Even today, as in the days of the  trapper, the value of furs runs into many millions of dollars. And the fur  business is still rooted in the soil. On farm marshlands throughout the country,  peculiar mounds, which are the homes of the muskrat, rise above the water. This little fellow  thrives in swampy places and needs little care or attention. His glossy coat provides an  extra source of income for the farmer. And many are the famous trade names which  label garments from the fur of the muskrat. Along farm streams, the mink may still be found.  Thoughtful management can often add his pelt to the list of farm products. And the mink coat is  among the most highly praised of all furs. The well-known skunk or polecat, often too well  known, is famous, too, for fur creations. A friendly fellow is the raccoon. A  playful pet, an excellent game animal, and a source of beautiful furs. The beaver,  tireless engineer and producer of valuable pelts. The weasel is glamorously known to history  as ermine. And the red fox, native of farm woods, famous for furs and famous for the hunt. When  sport is king, wildlife provides directly and indirectly a means of livelihood to many people  as well as a means of recreation to many more. In addition to purchasing guns, rods, and other  gear, sportsmen travel far afield in search of good hunting and fishing. And their needs  provide added income throughout the country. To the sportsman, wildlife provides a  means of escape from the usual routine, a refreshing stimulation to  be found in nothing else. In that happy hunting ground of all true nimrods, there are no distracting deer when one's afield for birds. And there are many who find solace and  wisdom in the great out of doors. To them, the sounds of nature blend  to form a perfect symphony. All of these things were considered by the men  developing conservation programs. On all fronts, the work of conserving the soil  and its many products went forward. Back on the land went cover to  protect the soil and furnish a home for wildlife. Destroyed land put back to use. Gullies cut by unchecked waters were  planted with protecting vegetation that halted erosion and furnished  a haven for birds and animals. Across the slopes of fields were flung  terraces to hold back fallen rains, to slow up the speed of water  and reduce its scouring power. Crops were arranged in alternating  strips to check silt movement. On the land's contours, hedges  were planted to hold the soil. Old and thoughtless practices of  brushing and burning along fence rows stopped, for this destroyed the  protection that wildlife must have to survive. And in the newly created habitats, the  return of the creatures of the wild began. But always winged threats to safety  keep constant watch for laggards that stray too far from protecting lanes of  cover. Where cover and food is ample, wildlife will be plentiful. In the open fields, ring-necked pheasants make their home. Here also is the bobolink in his  gaudy coat of black and white. The field sparrow's plaintive call  is well known to all bird lovers. His mate nearby brings insects to her young. Other sparrows busily look for weed  seeds in the litter on the ground. Within the protective cover of bordering  shrubs and trees, our eyes trespass the privacy of a yellow warbler at home. Here  too are the homes of the catbird, cardinal, brown thrasher, and the chad. Farm ponds that hold back too swift waters at the heads of watersheds, provide refuge for  wild ducks and other waterfowl not so long ago in serious straits. In these protected  places, the red-wing blackbirds build their nests. Sandpipers live along the shore, as do wild ducks and a host of other birds. Well-protected woodlands hold  the soil. In woodland borders, shrubs offer food and shelter for birds  and other creatures. A mother cardinal feeds her young here. And bobwhites  scratch for food among the leaves. Amid the undergrowth, the catbird may be  found. While deeper in the forest perhaps the ruffed grouse strutting proud and  pompous. And here too live squirrels, chipmunks, and other woodland wildlife. Stream banks formerly undercut fertile  fields because too closely plowed or cut by sharp hoofs of cattle. These ugly  sights are planted to trees and shrubs, vegetation that keeps the water cool for  fish and holds the banks from crumbling. In the new greenery along the stream, all kinds  of farm wildlife find shelter and food. Here, the green heron surveys the  scene with an apathetic eye. The flycatcher keeps a lookout for insects  on the wing and the kingfisher pauses with a minnow in his beak. Here also are water  thrushes, beavers, mink, and many, many others. Creatures of the wild need protection.  Where they find it, they will be found. And the land needs protection, too. For more  than 300 years, its rolling hills and broad valleys have felt the rule of the white man.  They have been subject to his will and his law. They have fed him, sheltered him, and made  him rich and powerful. But he has ever demanded more and more from the land, and in exacting  his demands, he has sped the ravage of erosion. May his eyes see the warnings apparent on  every hand. May the intelligence that has made him ruler show him how to guard well his  rich heritage, how to use without destroying, how to pass on to his children a better  world than the one in which he lives.