Introduction

Hollywood has made much about the few short years of
the great cattle barons of the American southwest - to
the point where it is difficult to separate fact from fiction
- but, there is no reason to suggest that the cattlemen of
Montana and Southern Alberta were in any significant
manner different from their more famous (sometimes,
infamous) counterparts on America's western frontier.
Indeed, Montana historian, Joel Overholzer, suggests
that one of the toughest cattlemen ever - Granville Stuart
not only trailed thousands of cattle north to Montana
and Alberta, from as far away as Texas and Mexico, but
may also have led lynching and shooting parties against
cattle rustlers and horse thieves as late as 1900.
Overholzer has found records indicating that as many
as 63 men from Montana and Alberta may have
perished by the hand or at the orders of Granville
Stuart.

With or without rustlers and lynch mobs, ranching
certainly was never a career for the faint of heart. In
this chapter we will examine the subject from several
different points of view.

Cattlemen led the way

History tells that the cattlemen were here first and to
them should go the thanks of everyone else, for it was
the cattlemen whom first recognized the true value of
this productive land called Southern Alberta. The Meeks
Brothers came to Alberta later than some, but things
hadn't changed much by the time they arrived.

Seeking Greener Pastures

(Excerpts from letters written by Jim Meeks)

In August 1902, my brother Will and I decided if we
were to continue in the cattle business we would have
to seek greener pastures. Our Utah ranges were
overstocked, losses were heavy every winter and hay
was out of the question. We had stock on the Henry
and Boulder Mountains, and on the deserts between,
in Southern Utah. Roaming bands of sheep left dusty
trails on the desert and trimmed the vegetation on the
mountain ranges. To remain in the stock business, after
experiencing this year after year, we knew something
would have to be done. We had talked of Oregon as
well as Canada. We decided - sitting there on our saddle
horses on top of Boulder mountain and surrounded
by a half dozen herds of sheep - that we would head
for Salt Lake City the next day to talk with men who
knew both Oregon and Canada as places to establish
a ranching business.

Grass going to waste in Canada

W.H. Mclntyre was the first we met for information on
Canada. He wanted to know why we wanted so much
information about Canada. After telling him we were
looking for a place where we could establish a ranching
business, he exclaimed, "Haven't you heard of the hard
winters in Canada and the cold rains that kill cattle in
the spring? I am losing thousands of dollars in Canada
every year. Now understand me, I am losing money by
not having enough cattle to eat the grass. Boys, if I
wanted to go into the cattle business and I had an old
cow with but three good legs, I would ship her to
Canada."

We next called on Joseph W. McMurrin, an LDS
Church leader who was familiar with both countries.
His advice was helpful; "If you want a mild climate,
where you have fruit in abundance and you probably
could ranch in a small way, go to Oregon. But, if you
want lots of room, on a rich fertile prairie, covered with
abundant grass, then go to Canada."

On the road to Canada

That was good enough for us! We left that night and
in two days we were in Canada. We rolled into Stirling
on the night of 28 August 1902, over the narrow gauge
railroad from Great Falls. That night we experienced
what four degrees of frost felt like in Canada, after
coming out of the south. The following morning we
were glad to get out of the cold hotel and we started
to walk to Raymond, mostly to get warm. Half way, we
were overtaken by Christian Peterson of Welling and
Joseph Harker of Magrath, riding in a sheep supply
wagon. They were on their way to Raymond for supplies
for the Knight camps. We were headed for the Knights,
too, so we appreciated the lift. At Raymond, we found
the Knights had gone to Cardston for a Mormon
conference. So, we worked our way to Cardston
and there contacted the Knights, including "Uncle
Jesse" - the mining millionaire from Provo, Utah. The
Knights received us very kindly and immediately after
conference drove us to their Bar K2 ranch, east of
Cardston, to look over their land. Ray Knight showed
us 1,000 steers, of which 400 were ready to be shipped.
He said he expected to get $40 or $45 per head for
them, which seemed a good price at the time.

We were fitted out at the ranch with two good saddle
horses and a guide to ride down the Milk River Ridge
through the Mclntyre Ranch and on into the Ridge country
known as the Option, then back south into the country
now known as the Del Bonita District. Day after day we
rode, never tiring of seeing thousands of fat cattle and
abundant grass that stood knee high to a saddle horse.

Back to Utah to get cattle

Impressed with the country and its ranching
possibilities, we rushed back home to gather up cattle
and move them to Canada. By the first of November
we had selected about 500 head. Then we headed
north. Because brother Will was not able to make the
trip back to Canada, brother Archie - four years younger
than myself - put on his red flannels and said he would
try one winter in Canada. Uncle George Forsythe also
caught the Canadian spirit and came with us, bringing 45
head of cattle, four work horses and his saddle horse
He certainly made for a distinguished teamster, perched
high upon the lead wagon, driving four big horses,
wearing a U.S. Army Uniform, with an Ivory handled
pistol strapped to his him, ready for any emergency.

The railway trip proved uneventful until we reached
Cut Bank, Montana, our destination on the U.S. side.
When we arrived there at 12 oclock at night, the
Great Northern Railroad people demanded $1,200 in
cash for the haul before the cattle could be unloaded.
We were hungry, tired, cold and disappointed. We had
no currency with us, so the stock had to be held on the
train until 11 o'clock the next morning. As a compromise,
I gave Great Northern our cheque for $1,200. In the
morning a wire was sent to Salt Lake City concerning
this cheque. When the word came back "OK", we
proceeded to unload the cattle.

We worked fast because we wanted to get over on the
Canadian side of the line before winter set in. In less
than two days we were 20 miles out on the Blackfoot
Reservation. At dawn the second morning, suddenly
appeared at our camp two Great Northern officials
waving my $1200 cheque. Seems I had made a
mistake; I had written 12 on the second line, instead
of $1200, so the cheque was worthless.

It was our turn to be independent then - what with the
cattle resting and feeding on the first real grass they
had ever seen, and deep in the heart of an Indian
Reservation. We asked the railway men to have
breakfast with us, which they did. They were humble
and nice and volunteered to help us pack up and get
on our way. About ten that morning I gave them a new
cheque - this time for the correct amount - and they
left for Cut Bank expressing appreciation that we
had all understood each other.

Our trip from Cut Bank into Canada was anything but
pleasant as we faced cold shifting winds that kept
the new snow on the move. The last night in Montana
we met Ray Knight on the Emerson Ranch. When
he came in sight we breathed a sigh of relief. We
were practically lost and expected at any time to run
into an Indian police patrol. That would have meant
a charge of trespassing, for we had no permit to
cross an Indian Reservation.

Landmarks across Blackfoot country

Next morning, Ray Knight pointed out some landmarks
ahead to use as guideposts in making our last miles
in Montana. We moved right along until the
International line was crossed, moved then onto
Knight land. From there on we took our time, resting
and grazing the stock until we got to the south branch
of the Milk River. We waited there for two weeks for
the arrival of three train loads of steers from Utah,
so we could pass through customs together.
Our next move was to cross the Milk River Ridge and
find a home for our cattle. Finally, on Christmas Eve,
we pitched our tents on John Heninger's farm, one mile
east of Magrath. Christmas morning came bright, warm
and clear, after a light fall of snow the night before. A
gentle breeze was blowing from the southwest. As we
stood on the creek bank, we could hear the music
of the Magrath band as they played "O, Canada." To
us, it was sweet music. We were in the promised land.

In Magrath, we were not long getting acquainted with
such as the Heningers, Stoddards, Riries, Turners,
Dudleys, Karrens and Harkers. To them, I guess we
were just two strange boys living in a tent across
Pot Hole Creek, looking after a herd of thin Utah
cattle.

Getting set for winter

We bought hay from John Heninger and set about
establishing our quarters for the winter. It was
going to be a long cold winter, living in a tent as
we had to. (Thanks to our good mother in sending
along plenty of bedding to keep us warm.)

By the middle of January, winter was upon us. Now
the cattle from Southern Utah really began to show
the pinch of a northern climate. Grain had to be fed,
along with hay to preserve their flesh. Expenses
were mounting; money was needed. Magrath had no
bank, so our only source of money was a bank in Salt
Lake City, eight hundred miles away. The asset they
held - our livestock - which had been adequate to
secure a loan in Salt Lake, now was located in a
foreign land. Bankers don't like that! To arrange our
banking business so it would be a little more
satisfactory, I saddled my horse and rode to Raymond,
where the Bank of Montreal had just established a
branch.

After putting my horse in the livery stable, I walked
to the McCarty Hotel, where I met Will Knight - Ray's
brother. He asked, "How is everything, and are you
getting set for winter?" I explained that I was still
paying bills using a Salt Lake bank. "That will never
do," he said. "Come with me; we'll changed all that.
At that time the bank was located in the McCarty
Hotel. After a friendly discussion with the manager,
my credit line was reworked. A $2,700 note on the
Salt Lake bank was taken up, an $800 overdraft was
paid off, and a credit line of another $800 was arranged.

May storm hits

April and the early part of May were confortingly dry.
Only two inches of snow fell during a 45 day period.
But then the May snow storm hit us! I believe something
should be said about that May snow storm. No one,
save those who actually experienced it, can fully
understand what man and beast passed through. It
started to rain very hard about 3 p.m., Saturday, May
16th, and by the next morning there was 14 inches of wet
snow covering the country. I looked out the tent door and
made a few steps towards a new shed we were building.
My vision was so obscured that I returned to the tent.
"Boys," I said, speaking to my brother and to Frank
Edwards our hired man, "If I were a betting man I would
bet $1,000 that no man living could face that storm from
here to Magrath."

Monday morning came and no change - only more snow.
The cattle were drifting now, trying to find shelter
somewhere. The last of our remaining hay stack was used
up. Four work horses and two saddle horses were
without feed. Calves were taken from their mothers and
pushed into the corral for protection. We thought the
mothers would remain outside and browse on any
green leaves sticking above the snow. But, they never
stopped drifting and most mother cows never did return to
their calves.

Things really began to look serious. Frank Edwards
volunteered to take the four horses and go to an
unclaimed hay stack one mile away and bring back
a little hay. At the same time, my brother said, "I'll
follow the same fence to the Magrath field and open
up that corner. There is liable to be a pile-up there
when the cattle drift south."

All that day I worked around the yard, digging cows
out of snow drifts, pushing calves into the temporary
shelter. I waited and listened for the sound of the boys
returning. Just at dusk, I saw a dark object stalled
within 300 yards of the camp, facing a 20-foot snow
bank. Turned out it was Frank Edwards. He actually
cried when he saw me approaching. "I've been lost
all day!"

"You get on my horse," I said. "I think I can get you
out of this." I got up on the wagon and spoke to the
team. They wouldn't move. I spoke to them again,
slashing them with the lines, but still they stood.
"Frank, what's the matter with this old team?" I yelled.
"It's the first time they have ever refused to pull." As
he broke down again, Frank replied, "Jimmy, I have
pulled that team so much today I am ashamed of myself,
and I have swore so much I thought God Almighty would
rob me of speech."

After a little careful piloting I was able to get the team
into camp, where we stayed for days. Our worries were
not over, either. What had become of my brother? He
had left when Frank did and expected to be back in
three or four hours. We listened in vain that night for
some sound suggesting his return, but not until three
days later did he get back, struggling through the snow
and nearly blind under the noon-day sun. He had been
marooned with five Magrath men, in Hod Thomas' shack.

Tuesday night, the storm was still raging. It brought in a
rider from the north, Will Knight. He was looking for
Wells Brimhall, who hadn't been heard of for days.
Will had struggled all day, on and off his horse, to
make the eight miles to our camp. "Do you know
anything about Wells?" he asked. "Not a thing," we
replied. "Well, the only chance he has now is with
George Forsythe, in his sheep camp."

The storm broke at 11 o'clock that night. Stock losses
were heavy everywhere, and a 40 percent calf crop
and 10 percent lamb crop was the limit that year.

Meeks family moves north

My wife came to this country in 1905. My brother Will
- after deciding that Canada was a good country to
live in - returned in August 1903, with his wife and baby.

In the spring of 1903~ the Knight Sugar Company
came on the market with 200,000 acres south of
Raymond - land known as the Option - for $6 per
acre, with a 10-year purchase contract at 6 percent
interest. Ray Knight, Jesse Knight's oldest son, was
permitted to make first choice out of this block of land
as a private holding - a block known as the Buck
Ranch, which is now owned by the Milford Hutterite
Colony. Will Knight, Jesse's second son, got second
choice. Will selected a block Iying directly west of the
Buck Ranch, known later as the Hereford Ranch.
Then, because of my friendship with the Knight brothers,
I was permitted to make third choice. Will Knight wanted
me to take four sections, instead of confining myself to
960 acres. Later, I appreciated Will's foresight, as land
around us doubled in price. Just a few years later, we
felt justified in paying $27.50 per acre for sod land.

When people from the eastern states began coming into
the south country, a real estate boom was on in earnest.
Land shot up in price and proposed canals and proposed
branch railroads were marked out on the areas offered
for sale. However, there still was no railroad proposed
to cross the 200,000 acres of Option land where we were
located. The hotels were filled with people talking land
and new railroads.

In 1903, the Raymond district showed a sudden influx
of settlers. The Knight Sugar Company factory was
finished and ready for operation. Ellison Mills likewise
was completed, ready for the wheat, and Raymond had
been incorporated, with the occasion being celebrated
on the first day of July. The sugar factory contractors
were very generous in their contributions to make the
occasion a success. To me, it was a huge crowd,
surging over the prairie, clamouring for seats in the
new grandstand. At least 10 Red Coats (NWMP) spurred
and slashed their horses, disciplining the crowd and lining
us up for the races. We had no rails or wire fences to
lean against back then. We were strangers to the police,
but they did their best to keep order and, at the same
time, to create a good impression. One-free-for-all did
take place, involving six men. Women screamed, while
men raced through the crowd looking for a policeman.
Not one could be found! Apparently they had all gone
to the McCarty Hotel for t-bone steaks.

Future looked encouraging

The future looked bright to most settlers m the district.
No one seemed conscious of the rough spots that might
be ahead. On every hand a new picture of life presented
itself. From the front door of the tent, to the back door
of the shack, came the salute, "Good morning, neighbour."
Everybody seemed happy and confident. It was like being
born again into a new life, in a new country, with all
kinds ot opportunities. We had a lot to learn, of course.
How to plow the virgin soil and produce a crop in one year,
without irrigation, was a big question. What "summer
fallow" meant. To think a man could cultivate the soil one
year, and preserve the moisture until the next year, seemed
ridiculous to some of us. How to hold work horses and milk
cows close to home on the open prairie, especially during
fly time, was a real problem. (Jesse Knight solved that
problem by placing a fence around the four sections of
land surrounding Raymond and all domestic livestock
was kept there.)

Next, was to get this sod broken, pulverized and producing.
Only horse power was available. A four-horse team
represented an investment of $700 to $800 in those days.
We talked horses and horse power then - like we talk
tractors nowadays. As I remember, it took from $3.50 to
$5 per acre to get the breaking done, on land that cost
only $6 to $10 per acre to buy. And, it was a constant
struggle to get $10 an acre land paid for out of the
proceeds of grain crops when your operations were so
limited. The standard spring wheat then was Red Fife,
a wheat that was two weeks later in ripening than the
present-day Marquis. It was a rare thing to harvest
a crop free of frost back then, and the price ranged
from only 35 cents to 50 cents per bushel, graded
according to frost.

Second bad winter

I often wondered which was the better business - to
grow wheat at 35 to 50 cents per bushel, or to raise
livestock, selling three and four-year-olds for $35 to
$38 per head, but with a limited market. We rather
leaned to the cattle business until we hit the winter
of 1906/1907. Old timers look back to that winter as
one of the most severe ever. By the end of December
we had already gone through the ravages of most
ordinary winters. Then, January came in cold, with
nearly two feet of snow covering the countryside.
Transportation was almost impossible, except by sleigh
or horseback. Cattle were dying on the range.
Thousands had drifted out of the country south
and east of Stirling, to the Milk River district,
down past Coutts and on to the Marias River in
Montana. It was impossible to get any of these cattle
back except by train, or by trailing them right up the
railroad track. There was great cooperation between
the train crews and the cow men. When a herd of cattle
was coming single file along the track, the train
would stop until the cattle passed around it and
got back on the track.

Less than 40 percent of the cattle ever got back to
their home range. The Eldridge brothers of Spring
Coulee, were the heaviest losers, because they
had the most cattle. One thing that made the winter
more disastrous was the fact that round-up time
was delayed nearly two months while we waited for
the good weather that never came. This gave the
cattle time to drift out of reach. Finally, a chinook
broke about the 6th of February and it cleaned up
most of the snow, sending small rivers of water down
every coulee in the country. But then, in March, we
got more snow, plus a deadly outbreak of mange.

After experiencing our second severe loss in livestock,
we decided that we would have to get better prepared
to stop such losses. We broke more land and grew
more wheat, oats and barley to meet the needs of a
starving herd of cattle during a hard winter. We were
quite successful in holding our losses down by turning
more attention to farming and, at the same time, by
increasing the herd.

Driest year in fifty

The year 1919 was extremely dry - the worst in many
years - and it followed the dry year of 1918. There was
practically no grass. Crops that had not failed altogether
were very light. Stockmen were in a predicament as to
what was best to do - sell their stock, or try to winter them
through. The Knight/Watson cattle partnership - at that
time owning from 15,000 to 20,000 cattle - started late
in July to move them to the Chicago market. Every 10 days
they shipped about 2,000 head. Late in August, Watson
suggested he could make a satisfactory bid on our herd.
We agreed upon a time when the cattle could be rounded
up for him to look at. After the cattle were bunched he
checked them for flesh, quality and age. The herd
presented a beautiful picture as they rested on the
hillside under a hot August sun, along the shores of a
large lake of fresh water. He made us what seemed like
a generous offer when it was worked out in pounds
versus dollars and cents. It would bring us approximately
$100 per head for 2,000 cattle, yearlings and up.
Calves by their mother's side were to go as one unit.

Eventually, we declined the Knight/Watson offer, but
we did agree to sell all the beef cattle in the herd. It just
seemed to us that selling our cow herd was like killing
the goose that could lay golden eggs. We couldn't see
our way clear to part with them.

On the third of October, winter set in and the battle
was on to save the herd of cattle we had just refused
to sell. It was winter from then until May 9th. Our supply
of feed soon was gone. We bought hay and shipped it
to the cattle. But, hay alone would not preserve their
flesh. Grain had to be fed, too. We brought in grain
from Northern Alberta, corn and meal cake from
the U.S., as well as hay from Manitoba.

In spite of all we could do, the losses piled up. On the
first day of June 1920, the Meeks brothers woke
up owing the Bank of Montreal $97,000, after starting
out with a clean financial slate the fall before. To face
the future with a fast dwindling asset in the half-exhausted
cattle herd, was just one part of the bad picture that
confronted us. Thousands of dollars in land contracts
had to be met. There were bills owing to machinery
companies, and merchants and blacksmiths had to be
paid. Cattle worth $200,000 in August of 1919, in only
ten months had shrunk in value until the asset securing
our bank loan amounted to $65,000 at best.

Nervous creditors - a rancher's
nightmare

Our creditors wanted their money. Bills were coming in
marked "Please pay up!" and "This bill has been running
too long!" The bank manager was nervous about our
plight. The head of the bank was demanding more
security. We had no liquid assets other than those already
tied up. The ring of the telephone had become so
repulsive that we answered it with real hesitation. And,
this financial disaster occurred during one of the longest
and coldest winters in Canadian history, coupled with the
abnormally high cost of feed and a fast declining livestock
market.

After the winter had cleared away, the bank asked for a
new property statement. That meant the cattle would have
to be counted and classed as to value. After looking the
herd over, my brother Will said glumly, " That's a hell of
a looking herd of cattle to raise a hundred thousand
dollars out of." lt was at that! Thin in the flesh, many
with frozen feet, legs and tails. I made no comment.
Somebody had to appear optimistic and hopeful.

It was embarrassing to meet our banker and make our
report. The bank had been generous in extending a good
line of credit to provide feed for our stock, but it was now
exceeded by thousands of dollars in overdrafts. To be
honourable with our creditors, and at the same time to
ease the financial situation and again establish our credit,
we gave them a mortgage on more than three thousand
acres of good land. We were sparring for time, and we
knew it would take time to clear this obligation. Time was
the only thing we asked the bank for- and time we
got.

Debt restricts freedom

The last words of advice from Father and Mother Meeks
when we first came to this country were "Don't let your
enthusiasm carry you into debt to the extent that your
obligations become a burden."

Despite the warning, in less than 10 months our Canadian
business had changed from one of complacency to one
of bondage and debt. Looking back, 1 suppose we could
have sold the livestock in 1919. But, we would have had
35,000 acres of grass land to pay taxes on, and no stock
to graze.

The burden of debt brings intimidation and fear, and robs
one of freedom of choice. Under these handicaps, we
planned, worked and worried, and denied ourselves
many things we thought we were entitled to, in order
that this obligation might be lifted from our shoulders.
We gave ourselves 10 years to get free of the debt,
but we found we had to increase that time before the
obligation finally was cleared.

Our only source of money through this period was from
the sale of wheat, cattle, sheep and wool, and I'm sure
no one who lived through it has forgotten the years 1930
through 1933. Wheat sold for 20 to 40 cents per bushel,
wool from 6 to 8 cents per pound, lambs 5 to 6 cents per
pound, and beef cows $1.35 per hundred, with the best
steers going at 3 cents per pound. We shipped our best
heifers to Winnipeg and got back $14 per head.

I have related these experiences in order that future
generations might understand a little better just what
ranchers and livestock farmers had to go through in early
Southern Alberta. I have confined myself mostly
to our own business, because I know more about it
than I know of the other fellow's. But, what was true
in our case was likewise true for many other ranchers,
whether they operated on a small or large scale.
Those were very difficult times and hopefully we'll never
see them again.

Land and the LDS Church -
The story of Deseret Ranches

During the mid 1800s, most of the land in Southern
Alberta was owned by the Dominion of Canada. Due
to the efforts of Sir Alexander Galt and his son Elliott
in establishing two railways in Southern Alberta, they had
received more than one million acres of this land through
grants.

The Galts planned to lease or sell this land to large
ranching companies, but soon found they could not
compete with the generous grazing leases in Alberta,
nor with the free grasslands in Montana. Their only
option was to attract settlers.

It was about this time that Charles Ora Card, with a
company of Mormons, arrived in the Cardston area
to start a community. Card, and his friend, John W.
Taylor, were able to purchase more than 700,000
acres of land from the Galts, through their Alberta
Railway and Irrigation Company. The terms of the
purchase agreement were that a rent of 2 cents per
acre, per year would be paid - for the four years from
1892 to 1895 inclusive. The final purchase price would
then be $1 per acre, to be spread over eight years,
with interest at 6 percent.

During those early years, the Mormons were becoming
fairly well-known to the family of Senator Matthew H.
Cochrane. Senator Cochrane was a breeder and importer
of Shorthorn cattle and founder of the Cochrane Ranch,
located then between the Waterton and Belly rivers in
Southern Alberta.

Cowboys working on the Cochrane ranch watched with
mixed feelings as the Mormons divided up and broke the
land for settlement. They reported to William Cochrane
(son of Senator Cochrane), "Those Mormons are tearing
up the country as if they owned it."

William Cochrane is said to have replied, "Don't worry
about the Mormons. They'll winter kill!"

History records, not only did the Mormons not "winter kill",
they actually went on to become a great help to the
Cochrane Ranch. And, the ranch was also a great help to
the settlers. Some of the first money earned by the
Mormons in their new country was for putting up hay
at $6.50 per ton for the ranch.

On the death of Senator Cochrane, the ranch was
purchased by the LDS Church. The year was 1906,
and the sale of 66,500 acres went for the then-premium
price of $6 per acre. This was a substantial increase
over the $1 per acre paid just 15 years earlier by Ora
Card and John W. Taylor. At that time, the Cochrane
Ranch included most of what are now the towns of
Hill Spring and Glenwood. It was purchased by the
LDS Church for the purpose of colonization by members
of the Church arriving from Utah and other areas. Much
of it was sold to members of the Church for an annual
payment of some of the grain produced on the land.
Raymondite Hugh Court spent many years working for
the Cochrane Ranch and he remembers having to go to
Hill Spring each fall to fix up the elevator so that the
annual land payments from members could be received.

Approximately 36,000 acres were sold in this way over
the years, with the remaining 30,000 acres being sold
in the 1960s, to the Morris Palmer family. In the late
1800s, William H. Mclntyre also was considering this
same area as a place to establish a cattle ranch. In
1894, Mclntyre purchased a large tract of land from
the Alberta Railway and Irrigation Company, through
Charles A. Magrath. (Magrath went on to become the
first mayor of Lethbridge.) However, at that time
Magrath was acting as a land agent for the Galts.
Mclntyre continued to purchase land until he had
acquired some 87,000 acres.

Days of the open range

Many stories have come from those days of the open
and unfenced rangeland. Round-ups were in constant
progress and were the only way of keeping track of
cattle. Working to the outside limits of where a person
could locate their own cattle, they would then push
them back to their home ranch. Corrals were not used
for spring branding back then. Instead, bunches of cows
and calves were held by riders on the open prairie,
while a good roper dragged the calves up to the
branding fire.

Stories have surfaced about the experiences some
of these early cowboys had with the newly arrived
Mormon settlers. It didn't take long for the cowboys
to learn of the faith these Mormons had and how that
faith was often demonstrated. During one particularly
dry period, for example, a group of cowboys was
attending Sacrament meeting when the foreman
of the group learned that the members were fasting
for rain.

There was quite a stir when the foreman said, "Come
on boys, let's set up our hay. The Mormons are praying
for rain again." And off they went!

Those were also the days when a good brood cow
could be bought for $25 to $30 compared to the
current price of $650 or more. At the same time, land
prices have escalated far more drastically than cattle
prices and, even with today's deflated real estate
market, land has remained proportionally higher than
cattle and other commodity prices.

Knight's Bar K2

Jesse Knight acquired a township and a half of land
(appoximately 34,500 acres) from William Mclntyre,
in 1899, and started the Bar K2 ranch - a name
derived from his two sons, Oscar Ray and John
William - thus, K2 (or Knight x 2). Shortly after his
initial purchase,.Jesse Knight made a contract with
the Alberta Railway and Irrigation Company for the
purchase of a large block of land immediately east
of Mclntyre's land. This block of land stretched from
the U.S. border up to and including the present town
of Raymond, comprising some 250,000 acres
(390 square miles). The town of Raymond was
founded on that land and named after Knight's
oldest son. As part of this land contract,
Knight agreed to build and operate a sugar factory.

Part of the land which was included in the Knight
purchase originally had been settled by Bill Kirkaldy.
The ranch bearing his name is still in operation
today as part of the Deseret Ranches.

In 1936, the Knights experienced a series of
financial set-backs and they ended up unable
to keep the Bar K2 ranch. Control of the Knight Sugar
Company (which held title to most of the land), had
passed into the hands of banks. William Mclntyre
made a deal with the controlling banks, and with
some minority stockholders, to acquire their holdings
in the Knight Sugar Company. Over the next few
years, the remaining 13 percent of the outstanding
shares also were acquired. Mclntyre now had
control of 160,000 acres, stretching from the U.S.
border to where the towns of Raymond and
Magrath are today. Shortly before the death of William
Mclntyre, the LDS Church again felt the need to own
land for the purpose of ranching. In 1947, under the
guidance and direction of Joseph B. Wirthlin, the Church
acquired 11,680 acres of the Bar K2 Ranch from
Mclntyre for $64 per acre. One year later, an additional
80,070 were purchased from McIntyre - also land
formerly owned by Jesse Knight. This land was
purchased for $47 per acre and included the
Kirkaldy Ranch. Between 1970 and 1979, an
additional 4,358 acres was purchased, bringing
total Church holdings to 96,108 acres.

Tough negotiations by
Church

Employees living on the ranch when the Church
purchased it remember how thorough the Brethren
were who handled the deal. Bishop Wirthlin and
others from Salt Lake came through the ranch
and had every animal, machine, bale of hay, and
nut and bolt counted. Then they decided which
items the Church would take and which the Mclntyre
estate should keep. Employees were given the
option of remaining with the ranch and were
guaranteed their jobs and salaries if they remained.

Early management of the ranch was supervised
directly by ecclesiastical authorities from the
Cardston Stake. In March 1969, the lands were
incorporated under the name Deseret Farms of
Alberta Ltd. At the time of incorporation all
farming operations were being carried out by
ranch personnel. This proved to be a costly
procedure, so in the early 1980s the farmland
was leased out to tenants and the ranch
personnel were left to concentrate on doing
what they did best - ranch. This also caused
management to reconsider the descriptive
nature of the corporate name and that resulted
in the latest change, in 1982, to Deseret
Ranches of Alberta Ltd., under which title the
ranch operates to this day. The president of the
Cardston Stake remains the president of Deseret
Ranches, but the Stake is no longer responsible
for the day-to-day operations. This responsibility has
been shifted to the Farm Management Division of
the LDS Church.

Today, Deseret Ranches includes the Bar K2 Ranch
and the Knight Ranch. The Knight has been divided
into four physically distinct units, those being the
Knight, the Kirkaldy, the Horseshoe and the Deerhaven.
These divisions are less rigid than when they were
first established and units work together.

Deseret serves the Church

The mission of Deseret Ranches is to generate
the highest possible return on investment and to
concurrently improve the quality and value of the
land. Deseret Ranches is a profitable entity and
has, with the exception of only two or three years
since its origin, consistently carried its weight and
made a substantial financial contribution to the work
of the LDS Church in Canada. Because Deseret
Ranches falls under the investment arm of the
Church, it is a fully taxable corporation. Also, as a
matter of policy it does not take advantage of subsidy
programs offered by the government to agricultural
producers.

Today, Deseret Ranches is considered to be an
high-tech innovator in the areas of information
management and general management practices.
Its continued success is owed to dedicated employees
who share a team spirit and are aware of the great
responsibility which is theirs as custodians of
Church assets and in assisting with the advancement
of the Lord's work in this part of his vineyard. (Small
note of humour; perhaps that should read, "In this
part of his pasture!")

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