Part 28

The vast majority of the plantations consist of orange groves. The color of the trees is splendid, every leaf being bright and shining, and there is no sign of smut or scale. The large and upright Seedlings are easily distinguished from the smaller but bushy Navels. The tendency is now to plant mostly the latter, and most of the old Seedling trees are being budded over. The original Navel tree, which is the prime cause of the prosperity of Riverside and of the fame of its oranges, is yet standing by a modest cottage, which appears not to have kept pace with the times. The tree is small, perhaps twelve feet high, having been constantly cut back for buds. From this tree have sprung all the rest. No other Navel tree imported from Brazil or Australia resembles it in quality of fruit or in bearing capacity. It is probably a chance “sport” originally imported by the Agricultural Department at Washington, its companion trees being different in the most essential points which make this variety so valuable and so famous. This beautiful and choice orange, now generally known as the “Washington Navel,” is slightly oblong or egg-shaped, and the skin is very smooth, with no ridges at the poles, the latter being characteristic of the other Navel varieties. The crop of Navels this year is good. Many growers expect from three to four boxes to the tree, and, as each box brings from three to four dollars, it is evident the business pays. The valuable and permanent improvements everywhere show this to be the case; the account books of the grower need not be searched to demonstrate it. Here and there we also see a lemon orchard with its larger trees of a different green. A few years ago many lemon orchards were dug up, as no one understood the secret of saving the lemons till the warm season, when alone they can bring a good price. But at last one of the growers wrung the secret from Nature, and now buys up all the young lemons he can find and stores them away to be used from six to ten months later, just when they are most in demand. In company with that courteous horticulturist, the editor of the Riverside _Press_, E. W. Holmes, we visited this gentleman, G. W. Garcelon. To him is due much credit for having discovered the process. He presented us with lemons of the small and proper size that had been picked green eight months ago. They were equal to the best imported, both as to smallness of size, acidity, thinness of skin and quality of juice. These lemons bring now five dollars per box, at which price lemon culture proves more profitable than that of the orange.

The only variety that should be planted is the Lisbon lemon, the Eureka having too bitter a peel, and the much recommended Villa Franca being round and thus unacceptable. We passed several vineyards, the Muscat vines being large and the vineyards well kept. The grapes are just ripening, but it will be some two weeks yet before they are ready to cut. The only variety grown here is the Muscat of Alexandria, the real Gordo Blanco being unknown, or at least not generally planted.

The far-famed Magnolia avenue is near at hand. The center is occupied by a continuous row of old pepper trees, with gracefully drooping branches, under which the cars run. The outside rows are different in various places, generally palms with alternating grevilleas, or gum or pepper trees. The custom now is to replace the outside trees with palms, and many of the stately gums are being cut away. Beyond the sidewalks are the trimmed cypress hedges, and behind them orange orchards, only interrupted by open lawns and gardens partially hiding the tasty dwelling-houses of the horticulturists. All that we see, now so luxuriant and beautiful, is the effect of water on the otherwise barren plains. Everything is irrigated several times a year by means of flowing water brought from distant points, from the mountain cañons, or from the artesian wells in the river bottom higher up, several miles away.

The canals are all on the highest ground, and are dug on technical principles. There is no washing and no filling up, no broken-down gates and overflowing and stagnant ponds. Some ditches are cemented, and look magnificently clean, without any weeds or mud. The water in them is like the water of a spring, clear and pellucid. In course of time all the ditches will be cemented, the cost for doing the work being paid for in a short time by the water saved and the absence of the necessary cleaning out.

Riverside is indeed to be envied its Chinatown. The latter was, some years ago, moved a mile from town into a hollow, and now every house there is surrounded by cypress hedges and windbreaks of cypress and gum. Moreover, every house there is connected with the sewerage system, and the usual smell is not noticed on the outside. Indeed, one can drive by and not know the nature of the town, for it looks like any other country village, almost hidden in evergreens.

In a few weeks the raisin harvest will commence, and from that time on Riverside, along its whole extent, will be life and bustle. When the grapes are all in, the oranges will be ready for harvesting, and the country will again boast of its thousands of carloads of the golden fruit.

REDLANDS.

We have reached the object of our journey in the upper end of the San Bernardino valley. One of the features of South California, not Southern California, as we in the center all used to say, is the motor roads, not electric motors, but regular little steam engines, that will pull you anywhere, and which will not shock you with anything except perhaps with their smoke. Such motor roads lead almost everywhere, connecting the outlying colonies way up in the mesa with the headquarters on the regular railroad. And these motor roads are neither neglected, nor do they go begging for customers and freight. They are as much or more patronized even than the regular railroads, and they pay well. The cause of this is evident. They are more accommodating; they can without inconvenience stop wherever required, and passengers get on or off at almost every corner. The little train stops with equal readiness at the call in front of the rich man’s villa, to enable him and his family to embark, as at the poor man’s garden, to allow him to get on with a load of greens or with a basket of eggs. Thus managed, it rushes along with short and frequent stops, always full of passengers and freight.

Going up the San Bernardino valley from Riverside is a trip that no one should neglect. It takes us through one of the best improved parts of South California, through a veritable garden spot, with a radius of six or seven miles. From Riverside we pass for several miles over the level mesa land, just brought into cultivation through the new Gage canal system. Over two thousand acres have been planted here within the last two years to oranges, lemons and vines, and the fine and regularly planted trees with the large distances between show us how much the new settlers have been able to profit from the experience of the older ones. For several miles there are young plantations, each with its neat and substantial residence and outhouses, indicating that the settlers mostly are people of some means and of much refinement and taste,--just the class of people that we all would choose for our nearest neighbors. Everywhere are school-houses of artistic designs, most magnificent ones in the older settlements, smaller but tasty ones in those of almost yesterday. As we pass along the mesa, the upper San Bernardino valley, closed in by steep and lofty mountains, lies on our right, and in front the Santa Ana river courses through the center of the valley, with its vast broad river bottom covered with wild vegetation, pastures or cultivated fields. We cross several ditches, one laid in cement, with the water running in them as clear as that in the washbowl.

Once across the river bottom we are almost directly at Colton on the Southern Pacific Railroad. The first thing that attracts our attention is the beautiful plantation on the railroad reservation. Fine green lawns, fountains, beds of evergreens and flowers, the whole inclosed in pepper trees, gives the traveler immediately the impression that something beautiful in the way of gardening can be accomplished, where there is only a will and a taste. Such beautiful places everywhere in the South show that the people who came here, came not alone to make money, but also to enjoy life and to cultivate those pleasures and occupations which help to prolong and beautify the same.

From Colton up to San Bernardino the whole country is settled up and resembles the outskirts of a large city, where the business men have their suburban residences. The level and gradually sloping mesa is dotted over with little hills and knolls, just the place for a residence. Every such place has been taken advantage of, and fine residences with towers, balconies and airy awnings crown every little eminence, each one through its peculiar situation seemingly dominating the valley.

San Bernardino has been greatly benefited by the boom. The old and the new are there in strong contrast, the new decidedly predominating. Magnificent brick blocks grace the principal business streets, and the nearest streets crossing them, blocks that must have cost large sums of money, and which for design and substantial structure can nowhere be surpassed in any city of this size. The fine large hotels erected lately are kept up with style and even splendor. The large Stewart House is not inferior to the best town hotel that can be seen anywhere, and its interior arrangements, with a large covered court, are most admirable. My stay in San Bernardino was only too short; a long stroll around town and a little longer shake hands with the veteran journalist and horticulturist, L. M. Holt, took all the time I had to spare.

From San Bernardino to Redlands is but half an hour’s ride through the bottom lands of the Santa Ana river. We approach rapidly the upper end of the valley, where the elevated mesa spreads out all around like a perfect ampitheater, backed by the loftiest mountains in Southern California. The mesa is now in close view, and Redlands, Lugonia, Terracina, Crafton, all different points of the same settlement, lie in front of us at an elevation of about fifteen hundred feet above the sea, like a map or extensive panorama, where roads, orchards and houses are so clearly and distinctly seen that they can be observed at a glance. The mesa land here slopes about four hundred feet to the mile, and the different orchards or settlements lie apparently one above the other, all in full view. If I am asked for the place in this part of the country with the finest view, with the freshest air, with the purest water, and with the coolest breezes, and where business and the comforts of life can be combined, I will say, and say it again, Redlands. In all these points there is nothing here that surpasses it, and few are the places indeed that even can pretend to equal it. From whatever point we stand, be it at the lower end of the railroad depot, at any orchard or home in the center of the settlement, or at the upper end close to the rolling hills, from every point we see every other point, some below, some above us, all equally distinct. And this extensive and magnificent view, that requires no tedious and tiresome climbing to see, extends away down the valley for sixty miles, over slightly rolling hills, over level mesas with their dark-green orchards and vineyards, over the steeper hills, over the lofty Sierra Madre range in the northwest. If we turn to the right we are immediately met by the snowy peaks and the bare walls of the San Bernardino range, here and there cut by the cañons and gorges of the tributaries of the Santa Ana river.

The business part of Redlands is as neat and tasty as any,--brick blocks and cement sidewalks, horse cars, and water under pressure.

No explanation is required to be made of the quality of the Redlands climate and soil. A trip over the settlement will reveal all to any one with open eyes. Orange orchards, young of course, but thrifty, on every side, alternating with Muscat vineyards, according to the taste of the owner; beautiful homes of the horticulturists, the stately mansions of the bank presidents and those that became wealthy quickly, and the grand view common to all,--these are some of the good things this settlement enjoys. The water for irrigation is all under pressure, either coming to the surface in open flues or in iron pipes. The orange orchards are being irrigated everywhere, in a way which should make a San Joaquin valley man stare. Iron pipes are laid all over the orchard, and at the beginning of every row of trees there is a faucet. These faucets are all opened at the same time, and a tiny stream of water issues forth and runs on each side of the young orange trees down to the other end of the check. It is left to run for several days at a time. At the other end of the check the water is not wasted, but runs into a little wooden spout at every row of trees and through the same into a cement ditch which carries the water to another place. The system of irrigation is simply perfect; if it were not so, the land could not be irrigated. With this system there is no waste, no weeds, no malaria, no hoeing nor other work of any kind. Irrigation is here as easy as the washing of your hands in a patent washstand: you open the faucet and let the water run. The general opinion by people not acquainted with the colony is that water here is very scarce; this is a mistake. There is water enough to irrigate all the land; most of it is now only running to waste to the sea; to be utilized it must only be stored. The Bear valley reservoir, when perfected, as it soon will be, will hold water enough to irrigate over twenty-six thousand acres of ground, which is about all the irrigable land tributary to Redlands. There are other reservoir sites in the mountains, and the possibilities of future irrigation can hardly be comprehended. Although young, only four years old, the upper San Bernardino colonies produce already considerable quantities of fruit. Six thousand acres are now under cultivation, eight hundred of which are in Muscat grapes, the balance mostly in oranges and other fruits. Last year they produced fifty carloads of grapes and forty carloads of raisins, and altogether about 149 carloads of fruit, dried or fresh. No better showing could be expected of any place, and there is no better advertisement of the resources of the country.

I have yet a thing to add, a thing to praise. Everywhere in the South magnificent drives are laid out, avenues are planted with shade trees, evergreens and palms, street cars take you everywhere, and the comforts of pedestrians and riders are always assured. The roads are all sprinkled, and the dust is an unknown quantity except in by-lanes and corners, where the sprinkler cannot reach. Riverside sprinkles the whole of her business streets, and her Magnolia avenue effectively and continually for about ten miles down the valley. Other places do the same, perhaps only not to as liberal an extent. In many places the tired pedestrian finds little wooden benches to rest on under a shady tree, close to a fountain of drinking water, all placed there by the kind society, W. C. T. U. Comparisons are not in place; but how many times I have wished such a thing had been met with in some other places I know of where the sun is just as hot, and where the dust is just as deep.

AN HOUR IN A PACKING-HOUSE.

The following sketch of a Fresno packing-house, where already cured raisins are bought and packed, may prove interesting to those of my readers who have not had time or opportunity to visit any similar establishment. The same kind of work is going on in each packing-house, whether it be large or small, except that the number of hands are varied. In the two or three largest packing-houses in Fresno, as many as four hundred hands are sometimes employed at one time when the work is pressing; as it slackens, less hands are used. These large city packing-houses are all situated close to the railroad; they buy the raisins already cured and dried from the colonists, who bring them in sweatboxes to town. The time of the greatest activity is from the last week in August to October 15th. The largest of these city packers are Messrs. Cook & Langley, who own packing-houses both in Riverside and Fresno; Schacht, Lemcke & Steiner, successors to George W. Meade, the oldest packing-house in Fresno, superintended by H. W. Shram; Chas. Leslie & Co., Griffin & Skelley, etc.

The pioneer packing company of Fresno, known as the Fresno Raisin & Fruit Packing Company, is doing at this time a large business. Every day five or six carloads of raisins are sent away, while a string of from twenty to thirty, two and four horse teams are waiting outside of the weighing shed to have their raisins weighed and received. These raisins come both from large and small vineyards from all over the country, but principally from the colonies, where they are the products of twenty-acre vineyards. Some of the best raisins in fact came from the smallest vineyards, where they had the best care, and where the owner has given the vineyard all his time. Mr. H. W. Shram, the superintendent of this large and old packing-house, has had years of experience in the packing business, and has followed the Fresno raisin business from its infancy. As soon as the raisin boxes are unloaded they are immediately weighed. It takes eight men to attend to this part of the business, one weighing and one clerk to keep accounts. The dried wine grapes, such as Zinfandel, Malagas, and even Sultanas, are immediately wheeled into the stemmer-house to be separated from the stems and cleaned. This stemmer is one of the largest in the State, and the only one of its kind as regards construction. It stems, cleans and assorts, in from three to four different grades, sixty tons of raisins a day. Nine men are working this machine, some feeding, others pushing wide but shallow boxes under the spouts, others again wheeling them away when full. The steam engine of ten horse-power and boiler are fired principally with separated stems, refuse raisins, and stones of peaches and apricots. The separated dried grapes are packed and shipped in eighty-pound sacks, and go in this way to the East, or even to Europe. Every day one or two carloads of these dried grapes are shipped. The Muscatel layers, however, go first to the sweating-room, before anything is done with them. This sweating-room is one hundred by fifty feet, and has the walls and floor filled around with one foot in thickness of sawdust, so as to prevent the outside air from entering. This sweating room is constantly filled with raisin boxes from floor to ceiling, and seldom contains less than forty tons of raisins at one time. It takes from ten to thirty days to equalize the moisture in the raisins as well as to properly soften the stems so that the grapes will not fall off. This is of the utmost importance. If it is not done the stems will break and the berries fall off, and instead of a first-class layer raisin we would only get a first-class loose.

After having sweated for several weeks the raisins are brought out to be assorted. We see several rows of oblong tables, each one with a border around like a deep and large tray, and with a hole at each end in which the loose raisins are pushed. It takes eighteen of these tables to receive the grapes to be assorted, and as it also takes six girls at each table, it is evident the work is one of great importance. Only girls are used, as boys and men could not as properly do the work. It takes a girl’s nimble fingers to handle the raisins, so that none break. They are also more patient, and are, in every way, suited for the work. As the raisins are being assorted, the different grades are clipped from the same bunches, and placed in different trays. Thus one and the same bunch may contain four different grades of raisins. Each one is separated at these tables, to make different brands of raisins. The trays, with five pounds of raisins each as they leave the graders, are placed in large piles on the floor, and are from there taken away at leisure, first to be packed and afterwards to the press. This is a department of its own. It takes great experience to press the raisins just so much, that they will look well, but not so much as to burst. A broken raisin will sugar and spoil, and would cause complaint and dissatisfaction. The public is constantly being educated as to what fine raisins are, and now wants only the best. Each tray is pressed, and it takes four trays to make up a box of twenty pounds. A tray is placed over the box, the sliding bottom is pulled out, and the whole cake of raisins with paper and all drop in the box below.

After the raisins are assorted they have to be packed. Twenty girls are occupied with this, the most pleasant, but also the most skillful, work in the packing-house. No bad raisins go in here, and if any there should be, they are separated and placed with a lower grade, as even one or two raisins would spoil an otherwise good box. This requires a great deal of care and attention, but the girls are being educated, and the same ones are re-engaged from year to year. Fresno is getting an army of girls educated for the business, and we find much less trouble now to get the raisins well packed than a few years ago, when everything was comparatively new. Now there is hardly a girl in any of the colonies who does not know something about raisin-packing, and who is able to make good wages during packing time. Several cents a tray are paid for packing, and many girls earn two dollars a day, while none earn less than one dollar a day. The first quality raisins are packed under the Lion Brand, while the second quality goes by the name of the Golden Gate. Both brands are equally popular and are readily sold. The loose raisins are as important as the bunches and layers. The American housewife has learned that she gets more for her money if she buys loose raisins than if she buys layers, which always contain a large percentage of stems. Loose raisins are therefore now very popular. The loose raisins have all been sweated, and the best of them have come from large, fine bunches, from which they have simply dropped off, and magnificent they look indeed as they are separated and graded into several grades, the largest of course to make the very choicest brands. The process of packing is quite different from that of packing layers. In loose, the boxes are simply filled with fifteen pounds of loose raisins; then a tray containing five pounds, and which has been faced, is placed on top, this making up twenty-pound boxes.