Western Duck Sickness: Avian Botulism and Conservation in the Bear River Marsh, 1910-1933

Utah State University DigitalCommons@USU

All Graduate Theses and Dissertations Graduate Studies

8-2015

Andrew J. Simek Utah State University

Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/etd

Part of the History Commons

Recommended Citation Simek, Andrew J., "Western Duck Sickness: Avian Botulism and Conservation in the Bear River Marsh, 1910-1933" (2015). All Graduate Theses and Dissertations. 4413. https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/etd/4413

This Thesis is brought to you for free and open access by the Graduate Studies at DigitalCommons@USU. It has been accepted for inclusion in All Graduate Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of DigitalCommons@USU. For more information, please contact [email protected]. WESTERN DUCK SICKNESS: AVIAN BOTULISM AND CONSERVATION IN THE

BEAR RIVER MARSH, 1910–1933

Andrew J. Simek

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements of the degree

MASTER OF SCIENCE

History

Approved:

______David Rich Lewis, PhD Christopher A. Conte, PhD Major Professor Committee Member

______Joanna Endter-Wada, PhD Mark McLellan, PhD Committee Member Vice President for Research and Dean of the School of Graduate Studies

UTAH STATE UNIVERSITY Logan, Utah

2015 ii

Western Duck Sickness: Avian Botulism and Conservation in the

Bear River Marsh, 1910–1933

Andrew J. Simek, Master of Science

Utah State University, 2015

Major Professor: Dr. David Rich Lewis Program: History

This thesis investigates how the Bear River marsh’s protection became a national interest and a cause for conservation in the Progressive Era. The thesis documents how the marsh declined because of irrigation development culminating with an outbreak of avian botulism in 1910, and traces the long process to protect the marshland. The research focused on examining local water development patterns of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, ornithological research in the 1910s, and the national sportsmen’s conservation movement of the 1920s. Upon examination of these events, it becomes clear that a coalition of ornithologists, sportsmen, and policy makers worked together to institute change that affected the marsh. Through showing how groups came together in the past to work for conservation, this research highlights the important role iv that a coalition of groups can have in reshaping how a landscape is viewed and managed.

(139 pages) v PUBLIC ABSTRACT

Western Duck Sickness: Avian Botulism and Conservation in the

Bear River Marsh, 1910–1933

Andrew J. Simek

Upon examination of these events, it becomes clear that a coalition of ornithologists, sportsmen, and policy makers worked together to institute change that affected the marsh. Through showing how groups came together in the past to work for conservation, this research highlights the important role that a coalition of groups can have in reshaping how a landscape is viewed and managed. vi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I could not have completed this thesis without the help and support of many people. First, to my wife, Bree Ann Romero, I am grateful for your love and support throughout this endeavor. A great debt is owed to you for pushing me along when I needed it, critiquing my work, and listening to me ramble about ducks for hours on end. I truly could not have done this without you. To my parents, George and Shalley Simek, and my siblings, LaDeanna Simek, Karyn Klebe, Jeff Simek, Eric Simek, and Brad

Simek, thank you for supporting and encouraging me to pursue my dreams and take chances. To Jerry and Gayle Romero, for all of your support and providing me with a home and family far from North Dakota, thank you.

Special thanks to all of my committee members for staying patient with me throughout this long process. Dr. Joanna Endter-Wada, for introducing me to this topic and to my career in the field of environmental law. Dr. Chris Conte, for challenging and pushing me throughout this work. I am a better writer and critical thinker because of your challenges. To Dr. David Lewis, thank you for all of the support throughout the years. Your help and encouragement kept me interested in finishing my work for a long time. I could not have asked for a better mentor, boss, and friend.

Thank you to the History Department at Utah State University for your countless hours of work and willingness to help me along. Particularly, I would like to mention Dr.

Colleen O’Neill, who helped me grow academically and professionally, and has helped shape this work. Thanks to the amazing staff that worked with me over the years, especially Diane Buist and Monica Ingold, who always had the answer when I thought I vii had hit a wall. To Carolyn Doyle, thank you for being there for me when I made the

move to Logan. I do not think I would have had any clue what was going on in both the

school and the community without you.

To the staff at Special Collections and Archives at Utah State, Smithsonian

Archives, Special Collection at the University of Utah, and the Denver Public Library for

helping me locate the sources necessary for this work. To the staff at the S.J. Quinney

College of Law Library, University of Utah, for assisting me with my obscure historical legal questions. To professors at the S.J. Quinney College of Law, University of Utah, specifically Robert B. Keiter, Robin Kundis Craig, and Jaime Pluene for teaching me so much about environmental law and helping me think critically. Thank you.

The research conducted for this work required significant funding and support. I would specifically like to thank the Western Historical Quarterly and the S. George

Ellsworth Fellowship for taking a chance on me, and the Charles Redd Center for

Western Studies at Brigham Young University for funding my research trips to the

Smithsonian Archives and the Denver Public Library.

And finally, special thanks to my peers and friends. Thank you for your friendship, discussions, and support. Thanks especially to Joe N. Lamb, Sarah B.

Fassmann, Philip M. Lockett, John Brumbaugh, Joe Foster, and Nick Mitrovich. I learned much from each and every one of you. Thank you.

Andrew J. Simek viii CONTENTS

Page

ABSTRACT...... iii

PUBLIC ABSTRACT...... v

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... vi

LIST OF TABLES...... ix

LIST OF FIGURES...... x

CHAPTER

I. INTRODUCTION...... 1

II. RISE OF “DUCK-DOM”...... 12

III. BEAR RIVER WATERSHED IRRIGATION DEVELOPMENT...... 34

IV. WETLAND LABORATORY...... 57

V. REFUGE ESTABLISHMENT...... 80

VI. CONCLUSION...... 109

BIBLIOGRAPHY...... 114

LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

1 Bear River Watershed Population 1890–1910...... 49

x LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Page

1 Illustration of cycle of avian botulism ...... 3

2 Photograph of Bear River as seen from headquarters of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge ...... 4 3 Map of the Bear River watershed ...... 16

4 Photograph of Bear River Duck Club clubhouse...... 31

5 Photograph of Bear River Duck Club marshland...... 32

6 Map of the Bear River watershed showing hydrodevelopments ...... 35

7 Photographs of irrigation infrastructure of the Last Chance Canal ....47

8 Photographs of crops, irrigation systems, and mechanization ...... 51

9 Photograph of duck carcasses at Willard Bay ...... 54

10 Cartoon from Milwaukee Journal ...... 71

11 Photograph of ducks caught for bird banding ...... 77

12 Herbert Hoover’s endorsement of Izaak Walton League ...... 94

13 Cartoon from Outdoor America ...... 95

14 Map of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge plans in 1928 ...... 107 CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

The water fowl [sic] made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican (Pelecanus onocrotatus) was killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flew over the camp. On the dry salt marsh here, is scarce any other plant than salicornia herbacea . . . . Descending the river for about three miles in the afternoon, we found a bar to any further travelling in that direction—the stream being spread out in several branches, and covering the low grounds with water, where the miry nature of the bottom did not permit any further advance. We were evidently on the border of the lake, although the rushes and canes which covered the marshes prevented any view; and we accordingly encamped at the little delta which forms the mouth of Bear River . . . . The whole morass was animated with multitudes of water fowl [sic], which appeared to be very wild—rising for the space of a mile round about at the sound of a gun, with a noise like distant thunder. John C. Frémont 3 September 1843

John C. Frémont’s 1843 description of the Bear River marsh indicated that it was teeming with abundant life. By 1910, Frémont would not have recognized the place.

After years of irrigation development the water supply to the marsh had slowly vanished.

Miles of marshland was now dry, and waterfowl carcasses now spotted the mudflats. In a span of 70 years the landscape had turned from one of abundant life to one of death.1

In the decades following Frémont’s visit, the Bear River marsh and the watershed

that supports it underwent immense change. European settlers sent by Brigham Young,

President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, arrived in the valley and

established numerous small-scale agrarian communities. To support these communities

and achieve their agricultural objectives, settlers had to shift the hydraulic cycle out of its

regular course. Irrigators developed a complex irrigation system throughout the Bear

1 John Charles Frémont, The Expeditions of John Charles Frémont: Travels from 1838 to 1844, ed. Donald Jackson and Mary Lee Spence (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970), 1:497. 2 River watershed that allowed them to divert, store, and use water to put thousands of acres into agricultural production. While that water development made Mormon agriculture in Utah possible, water no longer reached the Bear River marsh by fall.

The lack of water combined with high summer temperatures transformed the marshland into a landscape of disease over the years. What was then an unkown disease is now understood to be avian botulism, a paralytic and often fatal disease caused by ingestion of toxin produced by Clostridium botulinum.2 This toxin persists in wetland environments in a spore form that is resistant to heat and drying and remains viable for years. The vegetative form of the disease requires dead organic matter and a lack of oxygen to grow and produce toxin. The optimum temperature for growth is 77 degrees farenheit.3

Environmental factors play a large role in expansion and growth of the disease.

Shallow water in a wetland environment permits rapid warming of the submerged marsh

soil, facilitating the production of toxins when that soil contains spores of C. botulinum

and organic nutrients. Each fall millions of birds rest on the Bear River marsh during

their southern migration along the Pacific and Central flyways. While there, many birds ingest this dangerous bacterium which causes paralysis of the inner eyelid and neck

muscles, resulting in death by drowning (see figure 1). Throughout the later half of the

nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries, this naturally occurring disease

2 Avian Botulism is also referred to as limberneck, western duck sickness, duck disease, or alkali poisoning. 3 Louis N. Locke and Milton Friend, “Avian Botulism: Geographic Expansion of a Historic Disease,” in Waterfowl Management Handbook, ed. Diana H. Cross and Paul Vohs, 1–4 (Fort Collins, CO: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, 1988), http://www.nwrc.usgs.gov/wdb/pub/wmh/contents.html (accessed 31 March 2015). 3 appeared on the marsh annually in varying levels with the numbers of affected birds in the millions.4

Figure 1. Avian botulism cycle. Illustration from Louis N. Locke and Milton Friend, “Avian Botulism: Geographic Expansion of a Historic Disease,” in Waterfowl Management Handbook, ed. Diana H. Cross and Paul Vohs, 2 (Fort Collins, CO: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, 1988) http://www.nwrc.usgs.gov/wdb/pub/wmh/contents.html (accessed 31 March 2015).

In 1910 the disease peaked, killing nearly 7 million waterfowl. Their decaying carcasses dotted the mud flats and shorelines of the marsh. The sight alarmed many local residents, and drew the attention of sportsmen and ornithologists nationwide. Over the following decades, local residents, sportsmen, and ornithologists worked to understand the disease’s causes and a cure. Their work culminated with the congressionally- established Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge in 1928 (see figure 2).

4 Ibid. 4

Figure 2. Bear River as seen from headquarters of Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, [undated] 1930–1939, P0020 3:123, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge Photographs, 1927–1970. Photo courtesy of Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives.

Over the past five decades, scholars have developed a wide-ranging literature on the history of wildlife conservation. Many of the early studies focused on conservation in the context of the Progressive Era conservation movement. These works focused on the politics of conservation and its mythic heroes such as John Muir, Theodore Roosevelt, and Gifford Pinchot. Scholars have complicated that narrative, incorporating cultural studies, discussions of elitism, sportsmen, and the marginalization of fringe human populations.5

5 The literature regarding conservation is extensive. For examples, see Samuel P. Hays, Conservation and the Gospel of Efficiency: The Progressive Conservation Movement, 1890–1920 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1959); Michael P. Dombeck, Christopher A. Wood, and Jack E. Williams, eds., From Conquest To Conservation: Our Public Lands Legacy (Washington, DC: Island Press, 2003); Stephen Fox, The American Conservation Movement: John Muir and His Legacy (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1985); David Stradling, ed., Conservation in The Progressive Era: Classic Texts (Seattle: University Of Washington Press, 2004); and David Cushman Coyle, Conservation: An American Story of Conflict and Accomplishment (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1957). 5 One of the key narratives about conservation history has been that of sportsmen and conservation. John F. Reiger’s American Sportsmen and the Origins of Conservation argued that sportsmen were involved in the earliest, and most important, organized groups to give priority rights to wildlife. Specifically, Reiger points to the sportsmen’s code as instrumental in the development of the ideas and morals that informed the

Progressive era’s conservation movement. Thomas R. Dunlap furthered Reiger’s discussion of hunters and conservation. Dunlap agreed that sportsmen did play a role in conservation, just not to the extent Reiger claims. Rather, Dunlap argued that

Progressive Era conservation focused on resource decisions and maintaining the maximum yield of limited resources (i.e. timber, land, and water). Sportsmen may have started much of the movement, but the actual driving force of the conservation movement was to ensure that resources were available to future generations, not just to sportsmen.6

More recent scholars have added insights into to the complex relationship between sportsmen and conservation. Louis S. Warren examines how westerners, particularly Native Americans, fought the dissolution of their local commons by federal land management agencies. Similarly, Karl Jacoby describes the effects of the conservation movement on local hunters in the Adirondack Mountains in New York. He shows how the State of New York’s control of much of the area led to conflict between foresters and locals over forest and game laws. These authors both focus on the social, cultural, and class implications of the state run conservation movement and the transfer of

6 John F. Reiger, American Sportsmen and the Origins of Conservation, 3rd ed. (Corvallis: Oregon State University Press, 2001); Thomas R. Dunlap, Saving America’s Wildlife (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1988); and Thomas R. Dunlap, “Sport Hunting and Conservation, 1880–1920,” Environmental Review 12 (Spring 1988): 51–60. 6 the natural commons from local to state control. Common to both arguments is the expansion of state power over natural resources and the conflict that accompanies such expansion.7 Other scholars have added to the discussion by inserting the role of gender

and middle class leisure culture into the traditional sportsman conservationist narrative.8

Another facet of the literature on wildlife conservation is the development of

international agreements pertaining to wildlife protection. American environmental

historian Kurkpatrick Dorsey’s work The Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy: U.S.-

Canadian Wildlife Protection Treaties in the Progressive Era analyzed three

conservation treaties between the United States and Canada: the Inland Fisheries Treaty

of 1908; the North Pacific Fur Seal Convention of 1911; and the Migratory Bird Treaty

of 1916. Dorsey argues that these treaties came about through the work of

conservationists. Conservationists’ incorporation of scientific evidence, public

sentiment, and economic incentives into conservation campaigns made the passage of

protective legislation politically possible. Similarly, in The Game of Conservation:

7 Louis S. Warren, The Hunter’s Game: Poachers and Conservationists in Twentieth- Century America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997); and Karl Jacoby, Crimes Against Nature: Squatters, Poachers, Thieves, andtThe Hidden History of American Conservation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001). For other works concerning hunting and conservation, see Thomas L. Altherr and John F. Reiger, “Academic Historians and Hunting: A Call for More and Better Scholarship,” Environmental History Review 19 (Autumn 1995): 39–56; Ron Baker, The American Hunting Myth (New York: Vantage Press, 1985); and John Rickards Betts, America’s Sporting Heritage: 1850–1950 (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1974). 8 See James Biser Whisker, Hunting in The Western Tradition, Volume 2, Our Hunting Heritage: The Written Tradition, C. 800 B.C.–1925 A.D. (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1999); Tina Loo, States of Nature: Conserving Canada’s Wildlife in the Twentieth Century (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2006); Daniel Justin Herman, Hunting and the American Imagination (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, 2001); and Andrea L. Smalley, “‘Our Lady Sportsmen’: Gender Class, and Conservation in Sport Hunting Magazines, 1873–1920,” Journal Of Gilded Age and Progressive Era 4 (October 2005): 355–80. 7 International Treaties to Protect the World’s Migratory Animals, Marc Cioc analyzes international treaties to protect elephants, whales, and other migratory species. Cioc argues that these international treaties designed to protect commercially important species have shaped global conservation over the past century.9

In addition to works on sportsmen and conservation, there has been a growing

literature on management of wetlands and their resources. Wetlands history tends to focus on drainage and protection. In his work Wetlands of the American Midwest: A

Historical Geography of Changing Attitudes, Hugh Prince traces American’s changing perceptions of wetlands. Prince argues that as perceptions changed from worthless spaces to key aquatic ecosystems, so did people’s approach to them. When people saw marshes as dismal landscapes, they were either drained or avoided. However, with the advancement of new scientific knowledge of the importance of wetlands, people began to view them in a positive light and work for their protection. Ann Vileisis’s Discovering the Unknown Landscape: A History of America’s Wetlands adds the issue of government involvement in approaches to wetlands to this literature. Vileisis argues that depending on their perceptions, local communities and citizens looked to the government, whether state or federal, to assist them in either draining or then protecting wetlands. 10

9 Kurkpatrick Dorsey, The Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy: U.S.-Canadian Wildlife Protection Treaties in the Progressive Era (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1998); and Marc Cioc, The Game of Conservation: International Treaties to Protect the World’s Migratory Animals (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2009). 10 Hugh Prince, Wetlands of the American Midwest: A Historical Geography of Changing Attitudes (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997); and Ann Vileisis, Discovering the Unknown Landscape: A History of America’s Wetlands (Washington, DC: Island Press, 1997). For other examples of the change of the public’s perception of wetlands in the United States, see Christopher F. Meindl, “Past Perceptions of the Great American Wetland: Florida’s Everglades During the Early Twentieth Century,” Environmental History 5 (July 2000): 378–95; Anthony J. Amato, Janet Timmerman, and Joseph A. 8 The management of wetland resources has gained the attention of numerous scholars as well. Nancy Langston’s Where Land & Water Meet: A Western Landscape

Transformed studies the changing management of the riparian areas of the Malheur Lake

Basin of southeastern Oregon. Langston shows how the introduction of more efficient irrigation technology and pro-drainage legislation led to the near complete transformation of the lake area into farmland. The establishment of a federal wildlife refuge in 1908 and its further expansion grew out of the slow realization that wetlands were crucial to the survival of wildlife, particularly waterfowl. Langston demonstrates the paradox inherent in the experimental management processes that actually hurt the wetland area it was designed to save.11

Two notable works have built off of Langston’s analysis of wetland management

in the twentieth century. In his book Seeking Refuge: Birds and Landscapes of the

Pacific Flyway; Robert M. Wilson examines the development and management of refuges along the Pacific Flyway. His work details the interconnections of wildlife refuges and irrigated agricultural systems in the West. Similarly, Philip Garone’s The

Fall and Rise of the Wetlands of California’s Great Central Valley analyzes the

consequences of large-scale agriculture on the Central Valley wetlands, and the people

Amato, eds., Draining the Great Oasis: An Environmental History of Murray County, Minnesota (Marshall, MN: Crossings Press, 2001); Bevil Knapp and Mike Dunne, America’s Wetland: Louisiana’s Vanishing Coast (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2005); Curtis J. Badger, A Natural History of Quiet Waters: Swamps and Wetlands of the Mid-Atlantic Coast (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2007); and Lawrence Buell, “Wetlands Aesthetics,” Environmental History 10 (October 2005): 670–71. 11 Nancy Langston, Where Land & Water Meet: A Western Landscape Transformed (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003). 9 and groups who have worked to save those wetlands, particularly the duck clubs and scientists.12

More specifically focused geographically, a number of works have touched on the

history of the Bear River marsh, but a comprehensive history of the establishment of the

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge is missing. Craig Denton’s Bear River: Last Chance

to Change Course discusses the natural and human history of the Bear River watershed as

well as the future of the river. William Harroun Behle’s Birdlife of Great Salt Lake, an

ornithological record of birds on the lake, includes a chapter on the Bear River Migratory

Bird Refuge and briefly discusses the duck malady. The most prominent work that

concerns the Bear River marsh is Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams. Refuge recounts

the destruction of the marshlands surrounding the Great Salt Lake as a result of rising

lake levels during the 1980s alongside the changes in William’s life as her mother

struggled with cancer.13

This study of the conservation of the Bear River marsh advances the

historiography of Progressive Era and sportsmen conservation as well as demonstrates

the interconnections of water development and the natural environment. The first chapter

focuses on the natural history of the marsh, Mormon settlement, and the shift from

12 Robert M. Wilson, Seeking Refuge: Birds and Landscapes of the Pacific Flyway (Seattle: University Of Washington Press, 2012); and Philip Garone, The Fall and Rise of the Wetlands of California’s Great Central Valley (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011). 13 Craig Denton, Bear River: Last Chance to Change Course (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2007); William Harroun Behle, The Bird Life of Great Salt Lake; The Life History, Ecology and Population Trends of the California Gulls, White Pelicans, Double-Crested Cormorants and Great Blue Herons, Together with an Account of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1958); and Terry Tempest Williams, Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place (1991; repr., New York: Vintage Books, 2001). 10 market to recreational hunting. The next chapter examines irrigation development in the watershed and its impact on the marsh. The third chapter analyzes the search for the cause of and cure for the duck malady, focusing on the scientific work and contributions of Alexander Wetmore. Finally, Chapter Five details the conservation movement activism and politics that led the refuge’s establishment.

A better understanding of the historical conservation of the Bear River marsh can inform today’s water and resource management. In the face of global climate change, the

Bear River marsh is once again at risk. The disease that once caught the attention of sportsmen and ornithologists throughout the nation continues to occur today. Game managers and researchers reported an increase in mortality due to avian botulism in the

1990s. In 1997 botulism outbreaks resulted in a loss of approximately 400,000 birds along the Great Salt Lake and 1.6 million bird mortalities in North America.14 Warming

temperatures along with increasing urban and agricultural demands on the watershed

have placed the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge in a vulnerable position.15

In the early twentieth century, sportsmen, scientist, and public officials came

together to protect the Bear River marsh and save migratory birds in the West. This was

14 The Great Salt Lake aupports approximately thirty-five species of waterfowl numbering between three to four million annually. See Ducks Unlimited, “Waterfowl Facts – The Great Salt Lake,” http://www.ducks.org/utah/utah-projects/waterfowl-facts- the-great-salt-lake (accessed 7 April 2015). 15 John A. Kadlec, “Avian Botulism in Great Salt Lake Marshes: Perspectives and Possible Mechanisms,” 30, no. 3 Wildlife Society Bulletin (Autumn 2002): 983–84. For more on the vulnerability of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, see Rebekah Downard, Joanna Endter-Wada, and Karin M. Kettering, “Adaptive Wetland Management in an Uncertain and Changing Arid Environment,” Ecology and Society, 19, no. 2 (2014): 23; Rebekah Downard and Joanna Endter-Wada, “Keeping Wetlands Wet in the Western United States: Adaptations to Drought in Agriculture-Dominated Human- Natural Systems,” Journal Of Environmental Management 131 (2013): 394–406; and Lisa W. Welsh et al., “Developing Adaptive Capacity to Droughts: The Rationality of Locality,” Ecology and Society 18, no. 2 (2013): 7. 11 a long process, but the concentrated efforts of many individuals and groups paid off.

This work examines the cooperation of these groups, and hopes to inform modern day policy makers as they make decisions about water development in the arid west, particularly the Bear River in Utah.

CHAPTER II

RISE OF “DUCK-DOM”

A low, ominous sound, not unlike the distant peal of thunder or the rattle of musketry, came with the dawn yesterday morning. The peaceful citizen was aroused by the strange sound that came from the west, north and south of the valley. The unknowing attributed the sound to some strange disturbance of the elements. It was but opening of the duck season.16

Salt Lake Tribune 2 October 1902

Long before the Bear River delta became the focus of ornithological research and a national conservation movement, local peoples (Native Americans and then Mormon settlers) utilized the marsh for its multitude of resources. Its reputation for abundant waterfowl spread throughout the West in the nineteenth century, attracting hunters eager to take their share. Market hunters constituted the next group of hunters to the marsh. As the popularity of the millinery trade declined nationwide at the end of the nineteenth century, so did the marsh’s popularity for market hunting. Sportsmen filled the void left by market hunters and established prominent duck hunting clubs as well as early ideas for bird conservation.

Bear River bay is located at the northeastern corner of the Great Salt Lake, located in the northeastern corner of the Great Basin. The Great Basin is most commonly defined as an arid region of internal drainage. Today, it is comprised of portions of

California, Oregon, and Idaho, most of Nevada, the western half of Utah, and the western edge of Wyoming. The massive ranges of the Wasatch and the Sierra Nevada define the eastern and western borders respectfully. To the north and south, the borders are less

16 “Hunters by Hundreds,” Salt Lake Tribune, 2 October 1902. 13 majestic and not nearly as obvious to the casual observer. The Great Basin contains many lakes, most notably Pyramid, Utah, and the Great Salt Lake, and a series of isolated north-south running mountain ranges. Between the lakes and mountain ranges lie large arid valleys and salt flats.17

The Great Salt Lake, the largest of the Great Basin lakes, is a direct remnant of

the prehistoric fresh-water Lake Bonneville. At its largest, Lake Bonneville was

approximately 20,000 square miles—comparable in size to modern-day Lake Michigan—

and was approximately one thousand feet deep.18 Over years, the lake’s elevation

increased and the lake’s boundaries expanded until it finally burst through the natural

borders that contained it. Approximately 14,500 years ago at the northern end of present

day Cache Valley, now known as Red Rock Pass, the lake began to flow over the

mountainous wall and into the Snake River Valley. The rock where the lake overflowed

was composed of uncemented alluvium. Water eroded that alluvium, and as the volume

of water escaping increased, it cut a canyon nearly three hundred seventy feet deep and

one thousand feet wide. The violent flow of water followed the route of the modern-day

Portneuf River, reaching nearly four hundred feet deep at the Portneuf Narrows. The

17 John Charles Frémont, The Expeditions of John Charles Frémont: Travels from 1838 to 1844, ed. Donald Jackson and Mary Lee Spence (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970) 1:541; and Donald K. Grayson, The Desert’s Past: A Natural History of the Great Basin (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1993), 8–9. There are multiple definitions of the great basin, however this work will only use the aforementioned definition of internal drainage. For other definitions, see Richard V. Francaviglia, Believing in Place: A Spiritual Geography of the Great Basin (Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2003); and Grayson, Desert’s Past, 14–34. 18 Charles B. Hunt, Helen D. Varnes, and Harold E. Thomas, Lake Bonneville: Geology of Northern Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1953), 1; Allan Millard, The Great Salt Lake Guidebook: A Unique Educational Resource (Bountiful, UT: Horizon Publishers, 2000), 13; and Dale L. Morgan, The Great Salt Lake (1947; repr., Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1995), 22. 14 flood then turned westward across the Snake River Plain towards the Pacific Ocean.

Over time, this violent drainage lowered the level of the lake dramatically down to the

Prove Stage (~4,700 feet above sea level) and signaled the beginning of the end of the lake.19 Evaporation associated with a warming trend dropped the lake gradually until it

reached the level of the modern day Great Salt Lake (average ~4,327 ft.).

Today, the lake continues to fluctuate in elevation (4,191 feet above sea level in

1963 to 4,212 feet above sea level in 1986), which also dramatically changes the size of

the lake due to its relatively shallow depth. In 1963 the lake covered an area of 950

square miles, while in 1986 the lake’s surface area was approximately 3,300 square

miles. In an average year, the lake’s elevation is 4,200 feet above sea level with a surface

area of about 1,700 square miles. In the 1980’s when the lake was at its highest

elevation, flood conditions threatened Wasatch Front communities. The size of the lake

depends entirely on the evaporation rate and input of local rivers and streams. The Bear

River contributes sixty percent of the lake’s water, with the Weber and Jordan rivers

adding another thirty percent together. The Bear River is the main tributary providing the

necessary water needed to maintain the health elevation of the lake.20

The Bear River begins high in Utah’s Uinta Mountains. Here, mere inches determine the course of each raindrop’s final destination. A ridgeline of peaks separates

19 Hunt, Varnes, and Thomas, Lake Bonneville, 34; Cynthia Larson Bennet, Roadside History of Utah (Missoula, MT: Mountain Press Publishing Company, 1999), i, 8; Morgan, Great Salt Lake, 315–16; Karl Grove Gilbert¸ Lake Bonneville (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1890), 175; and Betty Derig, Roadside History of Idaho (Missoula, MT: Mountain Press, 1996), 84–85. 20 Denton, Bear River, 105; and U.S. Geological Survey, “Great Salt Lake, Utah,” http://ut.water.usgs.gov/greatsaltlake/ (accessed 12 May 2015). For an account of the 1980’s floods, see Williams, Refuge, 6–8. 15 two distinct watersheds in the Western United States. On one side of the ridge a raindrop becomes part of the Colorado River system and travels over a thousand miles to the Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean. On the other side of the ridge, that raindrop will chart a different course in the Bear River watershed, ending up in the Great Salt Lake.21

While only ninety miles separate the headwaters and the mouth of the Bear River

in Great Salt Lake, the Bear River meanders for approximately five hundred miles

through diverse ecosystems and three states and nine counties (see figure 3). It begins its

journey as a rill high in the Uinta Mountains on Lamontte Peak. From there, the river

consists of five main mountain tributaries as it goes from high alpine ecosystems through

lush alpine meadows. In portions, the river is peaceful and meanders from alpine lake to

alpine lake. In others, it is a violent reminder of water’s power as it crashes down waterfalls and rapids. When the Bear River reaches Christmas Meadows in the Uinta

Mountains it slows and begins its graceful meandering, cutting a wider floodplain. It

continues this meandering pace through Utah, Wyoming, and the Bear Lake Valley in

Idaho. Along the way, the Bear River is dammed and utilized until it is diverted into

Bear Lake. Utah Power and Light (now Rocky Mountain Power) constructed a canal

system and pump station to divert the Bear River into Bear Lake for use as a storage

reservoir.22

21 Denton, Bear River, 11–12. 22 Ibid., 11–12, 22–25, 27; Walter E. Dean et al., “Influence of the Diversion of Bear River into Bear Lake (Utah and Idaho) on the Environment of Deposition of Carbonate Minerals,” Limnol. Oceanographer 52, no. 3 (2007): 1094–111. 16

Figure 3. Map of the Bear River Watershed, http://bearriverinfo.org/files/uploads/ watershedmap.jpg. Courtesy of the Bear River Watershed Information System, bearriverinfo.org.

The river, along with the geography it traverses, abruptly changes at Soda

Springs, Idaho. Here, the river turns to the south and is reduced to a trickle due to most of its water being diverted upstream for hydropower generation before it cuts its path through the narrow Black Canyon. Once the river exits Black Canyon, it meanders leisurely again through Gem Valley, Idaho before it is backed up again at Oneida

Narrows, one of the watershed’s best recreational areas and crucial habitat for the

Bonneville Cutthroat Trout. The river is then joined by four major tributaries as it flows 17 from Idaho back into Utah—the Cub River, Logan River, Blacksmith Fork, and the Little

Bear River—which augment the Bear by fifty percent. As it exits Cache Valley, the Bear backs up again to form Cutler Reservoir before it merges with the Malad River and begins its final run through farms and ranches to the Great Salt Lake.23

At its mouth, the Bear River braids and spreads to form one of the most

spectacular and important migratory bird habitats in the western United States. Situated at both the geographical and legal bottom of the river, the Bear River Migratory Bird

Refuge (with its relatively late water right priority date of 1928 in an area where many priority dates go back to the 19th century) and the Bear River bay is susceptible to any upstream use or misuse of the watershed. This natural wetland has fluctuated in health over the last 150 years. The expanse and total acreage of the wetland depends varies from season to season and from year to year. The water supply for the marsh comes from high in the mountains in snowpack. In relatively wet years, the marsh has a steady supply of water, however, in hot and dry conditions the water supply melts disappears quickly. Due to this hydraulic cycle, there are many years where the marsh has little water by the fall migration of waterfowl. Because of this fluctuation in water availability, at times the marsh appears as a pristine and healthy ecosystem with thousands of migratory waterfowl. At other times, it has been a barren salt flat littered with the carcasses of dead waterfowl. While this dramatic pattern of fluctuation has slowed in the

23 Denton, Bear River, 27, 29–30; and Michael H. O’Donnell, “State Kills Dam Plan: Oneida Narrows Project ‘Not in the Public Interest,’” Idaho State Journal (Pocatello), 19 October 2012. 18 twentieth century, the differences between a wet cycle and drought are still apparent on the health of the landscape and those who rely on it.24

Humans occupied the Bear River delta region long before the development of

modern irrigation systems. Around 400 C.E., the Fremont Indian culture, a group of

hunter-gatherers, entered and populated the area. In the Bear River bay area, the Fremont

lived in family homes closer to the base of the Wasatch Range and hunting camps in the

marsh itself. The Fremont sites along the Bear River were located here primarily to

exploit the abundant bison, fish, and waterfowl, typically Canada Geese. Additionally,

the Fremont utilized wild vegetal foods that were located in the marsh. They occupied

these sites during the summer and fall, while they moved to more permanent year-round

sites closer to the mountains during the winter and spring. In approximately 1200 C.E.,

anthropologists suggest that the Numic peoples migrated northeast out of the Death

Valley region of California into the eastern Great Basin where they displaced or absorbed

the Fremont. Once in the Great Basin, these Numic speakers fractured into the modern

tribal groups designated as Utes, Paiutes, and Shoshones. At the time of European

contact, the Western Shoshone, a hunter-gathering group, populated the area around the

Bear River marsh.25

24 Wilson, Seeking Refuge, 75–78. 25 Jesse D. Jennings, Prehistory of Utah and the Eastern Great Basin, University of Utah Anthropological Papers, no. 98 (Salt Lake City: University of Utah, 1978), 162–63; Steven R. Simms, “Farmers, Foragers, and Adaptive Diversity: The Great Salt Lake Wetlands Project,” in Prehistoric Lifeways in the Great Basin Wetlands: Bioarchaeological Reconstruction and Interpretation, ed. Brian E. Hemphil and Clark Spencer Larsen (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1999), 35–36. For a great analysis of the movement of the numic speaking peoples into the eastern great basin, see Jared Farmer, On Zion's Mount: Mormons, Indians, and the American Landscape (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2008), 23–28. 19

The earliest European accounts of the marsh come from fur trappers and explorers of the region. These reports provide invaluable descriptions of its conditions and wonders. In early September of 1843 Captain John C. Frémont led an expedition into the vicinity of the Bear River marsh. The United State government sent his crew to explore the Great Basin and identify an overland route to California. As they floated down the

Malad River, which he called the Roseaux, the terrain leveled out and the river began to meander through a wide plain. Barred from any sight of what was ahead of them the crew took up camp roughly three hundred yards from where the Malad merges with the

Bear River.26

The abundance of waterfowl made a lasting impression on Frémont and his crew.

On 3 September Frémont wrote in his journal: “The whole morass was animated with

multitudes of water fowl, which appeared to be very wild—rising for the space of a mile

round about at the sound of a gun, with a noise like distant thunder. Several of the people

waded out into the marshes, and we [Frémont’s crew] had to-night [sic] a delicious

supper of ducks, geese, and plover.” Frémont’s description of the marsh suggests a

healthy ecosystem teeming with life.27

Seven years later another government expedition headed by Captain Howard

Stansbury entered the Bear River marsh on 22 October 1849. Stansbury’s account of the

immense numbers of waterfowl in the area closely parallels that of Frémont. Immense

flocks of wild geese, ducks, and swans covered the marsh. Stansbury recounted that he

“had seen large flocks of these birds before, in various parts of our country, and

26 Frémont, The Expeditions of John Charles Frémont, I:495–96. 27 Ibid., 498. 20 especially upon the Potomac, but never did I behold any thing like the immense numbers here congregated together. Thousands of acres, as far as the eye could reach, seemed literally covered with them. Presenting a scene of busy, animated cheerfulness, in most contrast with the dreary, silent solitude by which we were immediately surrounded.”28

These and other early descriptions of a rich wetlands oasis in the middle of a

harsh and arid landscape capture the abundance of life the marsh supported. The

immense flocks and the sounds that they made as they took flight left observers in awe.

The marsh in the mid-nineteenth century was a thriving and healthy ecosystem consisting

of willows, canes, and tens of thousands of waterfowl. Such reports captured the

attention of hunters from the surrounding local communities. They ventured into the

marsh on shallow boats to take advantage of the vast resources. In the nineteenth

century, subsistence hunting in the marsh gave way to market and then recreational

hunting.

Subsistence hunting on the marsh was quite limited. The relative inaccessibility

of the marsh kept the shooting limited to peripheral areas with easy access points. For

the most part, locals turned to the grasslands and mountains to hunt for game. These

localities provided easier access to big game. Conversely, the resources of the marsh

only served as a supplement to the diets of the agricultural communities that surrounded

it.29

28 Howard Stansbury, An Expedition to the Valley of the Great Salt Lake (Philadelphia: Lippincott, Grambo, and Co., 1852), 100. 29 Daughters of Utah Pioneers, History of Box Elder County (Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1937), 84–85; and Frederick M. Huchel, A History of Box Elder County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1999), 65. 21

In the later half of the nineteenth century, the main use of the marsh was as grounds for a successful market hunting economy. The relative inaccessibility of the marsh limited the number of professionals with flat bottom boats and access to boat blinds. Most market hunters utilized doubled barreled or pump shotguns loading their own brass shells and lead shot with black powder. Another type of gun used for market hunting was the punt gun, an oversized shotgun. Often, a punt gun had two barrels each up to 2 inches in diameter. Market hunter mounted the punt gun to the bow of a flat- bottomed duck boat. Then they would use poles or paddles to quietly sneak up on flocks of resting ducks on the water. Once the hunters had the gun in position they would fire on the unsuspecting ducks. The punt gun was incredibly efficient, taking upwards of fifty ducks in a single shot, with some practitioners rumored to have killed over a hundred in one shot. Market hunters slaughtered ducks, geese, and other waterfowl on a massive scale. According to some, “old timers” from Brigham City, market hunters could take hundreds of ducks a day, with V. F. Davis holding the daily record of “335 ducks killed in one day in 1899.”30 Season totals were no less impressive, possibly due to the long season running from 1 September through 1 April, with individual records approaching

5,600 ducks in a season. Market hunters provided waterfowl for local tables as well as

shipped birds to Chicago, Kansas City, Denver, Butte, and San Francisco. Prices ranged

30 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake, 165; Arthur G. Credland, “Colonel Hawker and Durs Egg: An Unrecorded Wildfowling Gun, His Famous Two-Barreled Punt Gun and a Passion for Fowling,” Arms & Armour 3, no.1 (Spring 2006): 91-103; and Major John W. Thomason, Jr., “Our Disappearing Ducks,” Saturday Evening Post 207, no. 45 (11 May 1935): 44. 22 from $1.50 for mallards to $1.10 for a dozen teal, and ten cents a pound for dressed geese.31

By the turn of the twentieth century market hunting was in a rapid decline in the

United States, including in the Bear River marsh. The destruction of the bison, passenger pigeon, and countless other species in the nineteenth century brought the plight of

America’s wildlife to the forefront of national consciousness. To the American public, the seemingly endless supply of natural resources suddenly appeared very finite. For a vulnerable species such as the passenger pigeon, their extinction came swiftly.

“Pigeneoners” killed millions of these creatures, descending on breeding grounds, netting and slaughtering so many that they filled freight cars with their lifeless bodies. The passenger pigeon once numbered in the millions, possibly billions, but was a rare sight by the 1880s and officially listed as extinct when the last pigeon died in the Cincinnati Zoo on 1 September 1914.32

The reality that humans were recklessly killing species and destroying the

nation’s resources was on many policy makers’ minds. In 1899, President Theodore

Roosevelt expressed his concern in a letter to prominent ornithologist Frank M.

Chapman:

31 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake, 165; and David Moore Lindsay, “Duck Shooting on Bear River Swamps,” in Camp Fire Reminiscences: Or Tales of Hunting and Fishing in Canada and the West (Boston: Dana Estes & Company, 1912), 65–87. 32 Frank M. Chapman, Autobiography of a Bird-Lover (New York: D. Appleton-Century, 1935), 94; Douglas Brinkley, The Quiet World: Saving Alaska’s Wilderness Kingdom, 1879–1960 (New York: Harpercollins, 2011), 149–51; Reiger, American Sportsmen, 64; and Dan Flores, “Bison Ecology and Bison Diplomacy Redux: Another Look at the Southern Plains from 1800 to 1850,” in American Environmental History, ed. Louis S. Warren (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2003), 161. 23

How immensely it would add to our forests if the great Logcock [ivory- billed woodpecker] were still found among them! The destruction of the Wild Pigeon and the Carolina Paroquet has meant a loss as severe as if the Catskills or the Palisades were taken away. When I hear of the destruction of a species, I feel just as if the works of some great writer had perished, as if we had lost all instead of only part of Polybius of Livy.33

Similarly, William T. Hornaday, director of the Bronx Zoo, published Our Vanishing

Wild Life, wherein he wrote extensively about the destruction of species and included a

drawing of a tombstone lamenting the eleven bird species lost between 1840 and 1910.

This longing for wildlife and the fear of its destruction by man was prevalent throughout

the United States, particularly in the middle and upper classes, and gave rise to a wildlife

conservation movement on a national scale.34

The public’s heightened awareness and concern over vanishing species led to the

formation of private organizations dedicated to the protection of wildlife. The 1880s also witnessed the rise in both amateur and professional study of the natural sciences that

blossomed into academic fields. The late nineteenth century witnessed the

professionalization of ornithology with the establishment of the American Ornithologist

Union (AOU), and the rise of the Boone and Crockett Club and the American Game

Protective and Propagation Association. This interest in the health of the natural world

and its wildlife, built on a scientific base, became the foundation for the conservation

movement to come. 35

33 Chapman, Bird-Lover, 181. 34 William T. Hornaday, Our Vanishing Wild Life: Its Extermination and Preservation (1913; repr., New York: Arno, 1970), 15. 35 Mark V. Barrow, Jr., Nature’s Ghosts: Confronting Extinction from the Age of Jefferson to the Age of Ecology (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009). For the 24

The Audubon Society, founded in 1886 by sportsman-naturalist George Bird

Grinnell, was one of the first and most influential national organizations devoted to bird protection.36 The society set out with three main objects: “to prevent, so far as possible,

(1) the killing of any wild birds not used for food, (2) the destruction of nests or eggs of any wild bird, and (3) the wearing of feathers as ornaments or trimming for dress.”37 A large number of Americans joined this organization and by 1888 the society had nearly

50,000 members nationwide. Grinnell authored editorials in his journal, Forest and

Stream, calling for members to lobby Congress and state legislatures for wildlife protection. Many of these editorials attacked the market hunter along with the pot hunter, who shot birds on the ground rather than in the air, and the meat hunter, who shot game only for food. However, the large membership and lack of membership dues eventually led to the dissolution of the society. By 1889, the society consumed Grinnell’s time, and he disbanded it to ensure that his journal, Forest and Stream, continued to publish at a professional level. 38

nature study movement, see Kevin C. Armitage, The Nature Study Movement: The Forgotten Populizer of America’s Conservation Ethic (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2009); and Sally Gregory Kohlstedt, Teaching Children Science: Hands-On Nature Study in North America, 1890–1930 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010). On ornithology, see Mark V. Barrow, Jr., A Passion For Birds: American Ornithology After Audubon (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998); and Frank Graham, Jr., The Audubon Ark: A History of the National Audubon Society (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1990). 36 Chapman, Bird-Lover, 98. 37 George Bird Grinnell, “The Audubon Society,” Forest and Stream, 26 (11 February 1886): 41. 38 Winston Harrington, “Wildlife: Severe Decline and Partial Recovery,” in America’s Renewable Resources: Historical Trends and Current Challenges, ed. Kenneth D. Frederick and Roger A. Sedjo (Washington, DC: Resources for the Future, 1991), 205– 14; and Reiger, American Sportsmen, 101. 25

While conservation organizations played a significant role in the end of market hunting in the United States, one major catalyst for change was women’s fashion. During the 1880s and 1890s upper class women adorned their hats with the feathers, wings, heads, tails, and entire bodies of dead birds. This fashion was so widespread and prevalent among the upper class that Frank Chapman, a talented ornithologist, decided to stroll through Manhattan counting the different birds perched upon hats. In all, Chapman tallied forty separate species in just one afternoon.39

This millinery trade, along with already active hunting for culinary markets,

decimated the numbers of waterfowl throughout the U.S. In the minds of those people

opposed to feathered hats the debate centered not only on the protection of threatened

species, but also on the moral rightness of womanhood. In 1896 Mrs. Augustus

Hemenway and Miss Minna B. Hall decided to organize the most fashionable Bostonian

women to protest against the bird hats. This was the founding of the Massachusetts

Audubon Society, a renewal of sorts of Grinell’s short-lived Audubon Society. The

Massachusetts Audubon Society recruited William Brewster, a leading ornithologist and a Harvard museum curator, as its first president. However, Hemenway’s organization consisted mostly of upper class society women, who were usually not naturalists by any means (many never ventured into the field). Women throughout the United States founded their own state Audubon societies modeled after the Massachusetts Audubon

Society. These societies had a tremendous impact on the American conservation

movement. Through the effective use of a boycott based on moral reasoning and

scientific knowledge these organizations forced the hats out of style within a few short

39 Vileisis, Discovering the Unknown Landscape, 151–56. 26 years. By 1900, a mere four years after the founding of the Massachusetts Audubon

Society, it was rare to see a bird hat in the streets. The end of this national bird millinery trade serves as a turning point in both the survival and protection of bird species as well the American conservation movement.40

By 1905, women’s groups, hunters, and ornithologists established local Audubon

Societies in thirty-six states. In 1905, William Dutcher, a recreational hunter, unified the

thirty-six state societies to form the National Association of Audubon Societies. This

group, modeled after Grinnell’s and Hemenway’s, became a major player in the

establishment of federal bird refuges, their subsequent management, and the decline of

market hunting nationwide.41

Even though market hunting was declining on wetlands throughout the country at

the turn of the twentieth century, the slaughter of wild fowl was far from over. A

growing middle-class population had more disposable income for leisure than before, and

many took up sport hunting. Historians have shown that these men, used sport hunting to

reformulate their own gendered identities and masculinity. Urban dwellers now had the

money and the time to spend in the countryside hiking, camping, visiting various national

and state parks, and particularly sport hunting. Across the nation, hunters established

sporting clubs to provide hunting access to the wealthy and middle class alike. In the

Midwest it was common for the clubs to return from hunting the marshes and prairie

potholes on trains decorated in the carcasses of hundreds of ducks and mallards. The

40 Reiger, American Sportsmen, 101; and Jennifer Price, Flight Maps: Adventures with Nature in Modern America (New York: Basic Books, 1999), 57–109. 41 Reiger, American Sportsmen, 101. 27 citizens of Utah were no exception to this national trend. Each year more and more people joined the ranks of sportsmen, particularly during duck season.42

The increase of sport hunting had two impacts. The first was the mass destruction

of waterfowl across the nation. With more hunters placing increased pressure on a

limited number of birds it was merely a matter of time before those resource began to

disappear. The mythic stories that surrounded the mass slaughter of wild game in the

1800s are as dramatic as the photographs that accompany them. The photographs depict

thousands of carcasses of birds on trains and the ever-famous photographs of the piles of

countless American Bison bones. These photographs show the real toll that hunting

pressure placed on some of America’s most prized resources. Secondly, these

photographs and the slaughter they depict signaled a shift in American consciousness toward the plight of wild game. Responsible sportsmen who readily killed game, developed the sportsmen’s code and subsequent wildlife conservation laws. The code was essentially a set of principles set forth in hunting periodicals in the 1870s and 1880s including American Sportsman, Forest and Stream, Field and Stream, and American

Angler. Editorials argued for the ideas of fair play, sport, and recreation, and against commercial market and subsistence hunting. Sportsmen formed groups to maintain their

42 E. Anthony Rotundo, American Manhood: Transformations in Masculinity from the Revolution of the Modern Era (New York: Basic Books, 1993), 227–32; Gail Bederman, Manliness and Civilization: A Cultural History of Gender and Race in the United States, 1880–1917 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), 23; Smalley, “‘Our Lady Sportsmen,’” 355; “Duck Season Opens Today,” Salt Lake Herald, 1 October 1902; and “Duck Hunters Were Numerous,” Salt Lake Herald, 2 October 1902. 28 way of life and the recreation they so valued. In a way, sportsmen were both responsible for the demise of many species as well as the protection of others.43

The Bear River marsh exemplified this shift from destruction to conservation.

Sportsmen across the nation considered the Bear River marsh a wetlands gem and a must-

see destination for shooting waterfowl. Utah newspapers published articles on the quality shooting that one could experience in the marsh. One particular Salt Lake Herald article

even labeled the marsh “Duck-Dom.” At the turn of the century, sport hunting had taken

off in Utah. Each year, thousands of hunters made their way to camps in the Great Salt

Lake wetland. Newspapers reported caravans of wagons transporting hunters to the

marshes, and commented on the brown canvas cap, coat, trousers, and rubber boot

fashions that became commonplace each fall. Utahns took to duck hunting so quickly

that there was a shortage of guns and ammunition, requiring hunters to borrow equipment

from friends. The article authors never failed to mention the mass numbers of birds that

could be taken daily, with accounts of hunters shooting hundreds of ducks in only a short

time. This kind of boasting and media boosterim attracted hunters from around the nation

to northern Utah.44

43 Reiger, American Sportsmen, 25–32. For discussions on the role of sportsmen in the conservation movement, see Reiger, American Sportsmen; Dunlap, “Sport Hunting and Conservation,” 51–60; John F. Reiger, “John F. Reiger’s Commentary on Thomas R. Dunlap’s Article, ‘Sport Hunting and Conservation, 1880–1920,’ in ER 12:1 (Spring 1998),” Environmental Review 12, no. 3 (Autumn 1998): 94–96; Altherr and Reiger, “Academic Historians and Hunting,” 39–56; and Lisa Mighetto, Wild Animals and American Environmental Ethics (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1991), 32, 41. 44 Huchel, Box Elder County, 248; W. I., “In the Paradise of Duck-Dom,” Salt Lake Herald, 29 November 1903; “Utah Paradise for Hunters,” Salt Lake Herald, 31 December 1905; “Duck Slaughter Will Be Great,” Salt Lake Herald, 30 September 1906; Lindsay, “Duck Shooting,” 65–87; Oliver Thorne Miller, A Bird-Lover in the West (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1894); “Army of Duck Hunters,” Deseret 29

By the turn of the twentieth century Utahns had established four prominent hunting clubs on the marsh: Bear River, Duckville, Chesapeake, and the Last Stand

Lodge.45 These clubs advanced the accessibility (for those who could afford to be members) of hunting where sportsmen were able to enjoy a fraternity-like atmosphere in relative comfort. Prior to the establishment of these clubs hunters had to pack in their

own tents, food, and supplies. After a successful day of shooting they were then left with

the problem of satisfactorily cleaning, storing, and shipping their game. The clubs solved

these problems by providing quality clubhouses, food and drink, and women who packed

shot game in ice and shipped it to the desired destination.46

Bear River Duck Club was the most famous of those on the marsh. Located forty

miles north of Salt Lake City, the clubhouse provided the luxuries that its members

desired, including steam heat, electric lighting, hot and cold water, individual bathrooms,

and a kitchen presided over by a French chef. This “millionaire duck club” included

“lawyers, dignified business men, [and] old sportsmen from every walk of life.”

Members came from all over the country—New York, Pittsburgh, Montana, California,

News (Salt Lake City, UT), 1 October 1901; “Duck Season Opens,” Salt Lake Herald, 1 March 1901. 45 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake, 165; and “Articles of Incorporation of the Chesapeake Duck Club,” 31 July 1907, Chesapeake Duck Club Records, 1903–1975, MSSB-211, folder 1, box 1, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, Utah (hereafter cited as Chesapeake Duck Club Records). 46 W. I., “Paradise Of Duck-Dom”; “Preparations for Good Hunting Season are Going Rapidly Forward,” Salt Lake Herald-Republican, 28 August 1910; and Lindsay, “Duck Shooting,” 65–87. 30

Spokane, Denver, Memphis, Chicago, New York, and of course nearby Salt Lake City— to shoot in this paradise of bird hunting.47

David Moore Lindsay’s tale of hunting on the marsh is one of the most insightful

and informative accounts of this sport hunting period. In Lindsay’s first visit to the marsh

he described the difficulties of navigating the marsh’s mud flats and the primitive shack

for sleeping, but the incomparable hunting made up for all difficulties. On the first day,

Lindsay bagged fifty-eight ducks while his partner “Y” took down seventy ducks and

several Canada geese in a short while. These numbers disappointed the two men as they

were expecting to shoot a hundred ducks easily. However, by the end of their hunting trip

the two men had killed hundreds of waterfowl.48

Lindsay returned to the marsh some years later (c.a. 1906) to find the conditions

much changed. In his time away, the state of Utah had implemented a daily limit of

twenty-five ducks per gun, the Bear River Club was up and running, and hunting was

now an industry for tourists complete with comfortable accommodations and

knowledgeable shooting guides (see figure 1). Lindsay marveled at the difference that

these changes made in the hunt:

We inspected the premises and found the conditions of duck shooting much improved—beautiful bedrooms, luxurious bathrooms, hot and cold water, telephonic communication with the outer world, and steam heat. The dinner was excellent, and there were arrangements by which the sportsman could avoid the risk of typhoid arising from drinking waters of the sluggish Bear River.49

47 Lindsay, “Duck Shooting,” 65–87; “Utah Paradise for Hunters,” Salt Lake Herald, 31 December 1905. 48 Lindsay, “Duck Shooting,” 65–78. 49 Ibid., 80. 31

However, he continued to yearn for the rough outdoors experience that he had years before.

Of course the thing had lost some of its romance. As one lay in bed one could not—through knot holes in defective shingles—view the heavens as they could be viewed through the roofs of some other shooting lodges in the West, and the stillness of the night might now be broken by the tinkle of the electric bell.50

Figure 4. Harry Shipler, “Bear River Duck Club,” 10 September 1906. Photo courtesy of Utah State Historical Society. MSS C 275; Shipler Commercial Photographers Collection.

Duck clubs on the marsh did much more than just make hunting more accessible

and comfortable for their paying members. The clubs spent thousands of dollars to alter

the landscape of the marsh (see figure 2). All three clubs implemented a network of

dams, canal, and dikes intended to control water levels. This hydraulic system allowed

50 Ibid. 32 the club to make sure that their wetlands were wet come fall. Due to the natural variability of the hydraulic cycle of the Bear River watershed, there was no guarantee that the marsh would have enough water to attract the large number of birds that would make for a successful shooting season.51

Figure 5. Image shows a marshland that was part of the Bear River Duck Club in 1906. Harry Shipler, “Bear River Duck Club,” 10 September 1906. Photo courtesy of Utah State Historical Society. MSS C 275; Shipler Commercial Photographers Collection.

The development of a “sportsmen code” in the interim between visits left a lasting impression on Lindsay. From being disappointed in not killing hundreds of birds in a day

51 Meeting Minutes, 14 May 1906, folder 15, box 1, MSS B-211, Chesapeake Duck Club Records; “A Meeting of the Board of Directors of the Chesapeake Duck Club,” 23 August 1929, folder 3, box 2, MSS B-211, Chesapeake Duck Club Records; “Disbursements,” 1 January 1932, folder 8, box 1, MSS B-211, Chesapeake Duck Club Records; and “Special Meeting,” 28 October 1910, folder 1, box 2, MSS B-211, Chesapeake Duck Club Records. 33 some years earlier, he now praised respectable hunters who laid down their guns once they shot the limit of twenty five birds. He even proudly recounted a story of three men arrested for shooting after dark who were forced to appear in court the following day.

Despite this change in Lindsay’s story and the experiences of other hunters becoming sportsmen, it’s hard to establish the true motives and intentions of this new breed of sportsmen in this era. Were they true conservationists concerned about the well being of wildlife populations, or were they motivated more by their greed to ensure future targets, as some scholars have suggested? Whatever the case, the actions of sportsmen greatly changed the marsh with the development of roads for increased accessibility and the construction of dikes and dams to control water levels for quality habitat and shooting.52

Hunters and birds alike flocked to the Bear River marsh in the 19th century. The

birds flocked for refuge from the arid landscape of the Great Basin, while hunters flocked

for the birds. Initially, the abundant waterfowl drew market hunters to the marsh. Using

punt guns and double-barreled shotguns, market hunters harvested immense numbers of

waterfowl. However, their time on the marsh was short due to a national movement

against market hunting and its impacts on waterfowl populations. Sportsmen filled the

void after market hunters left the marsh, drawn by the large numbers of birds. As

technology and access improved, more and more people took up sport hunting. As the

sportsmen saw fewer bird numbers, they developed the “sportsmen’s code” to ensure that

their recreational pastime would endure into the future.

52 For the debate on sportsmen’s role in the conservation movement, see Reiger, American Sportsmen; Dunlap, “Sport Hunting and Conservation”; Reiger, “John F. Reiger’s Commentary,” 94–96; Altherr and Reiger, “Academic Historians and Hunting,” 39–56; and Mighetto, Wild Animals and American Environmental Ethics, 32, 41.

34 CHAPTER III

BEAR RIVER WATERSHED IRRIGATION DEVELOPMENT

One could logically assume that after years of both market and sport hunting on the marsh the number of birds would be vastly diminished. While the numbers certainly decreased by all reports, hunting was not the main cause of decline in wildlife populations. That can be attributed to the increasing human population of the Bear River watershed, growth in an agricultural economy, and the implementation of extensive irrigation systems. The use of water for agriculture further upstream held priority over the wetland, both geographically and legally.

The Bear River originates in the Uinta Mountains of northeastern Utah and meanders for roughly five hundred miles, first north through southwestern Wyoming and southeastern Idaho, and then back south into northern Utah where it empties into the

Great Salt Lake at the Bear River bay (see figure 6). The Bear provides necessary water to some of the best agricultural lands in the region. The watershed supports a vibrant agricultural economy in Utah. Cache County is one of the largest producers of alfalfa, hay, corn, barley, oats and wheat in the state of Utah. However, the Bear River watershed, which is approximately six thousand square miles, is an area of seasonal precipitation.53 Prior to European settlement in the watershed, the annual discharge of

the Bear River into the Great Salt Lake “averaged an estimated 1,750,000 acre-feet.”54

53 Max R. McCarthy, The Last Chance Canal Company (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1987), 5. 54 Wyoming Water Development Office, “Wyoming State Water Plan—Bear River Basin,” http://waterplan.state.wy.us/basins/bear/bear.html (accessed 23 March 2015).

35 However, today the Bear River provides an estimated 1.54 million acre-feet annually to

its users, with around one million acre-feet of water reaching the Great Salt Lake

annually. 55

Figure 6. Map of Bear River Watershed showing the divisions of the Bear River Compact and reservoirs. (Bear River Commission, “Map of Bear River Basin,” Seventeenth Biennial Report of the Bear River Commission (Bountiful, UT: Bear River Commission, November 2013), ii, http://bearrivercommission.org/docs/ 17th%20BIENNIAL%20-%20Final.pdf (accessed 4 May 2015). Map courtesy of the Bear River Commission, Bountiful, UT.)

55 E. Bruce Godfrey, Clark Isrealsen, and Dale Baker, “Cache County Agriculture Profile,” Utah State University, http://www.ctahr.hawaii.edu/Sustainag/Wsare/ Cache_County_Agriculture_Profile.Pdf (accessed 7 April 2015).

The entire Bear River watershed is interconnected hydraulically and legally.

Many communities and agricultural entities use the river and its many tributaries for their livelihood. Upstream uses dramatically reduce the water available to downstream users and ecosystems, including the Bear River marshes. Each individual use is dependent on the local (state) legal framework that ties use to rights.

Western water law, known as prior appropriation, developed out of the necessity created by the region’s aridity. As settlers moved into the western terriotories it soon became apparent that the strictness of riparian water law, which tied water use to the land, was less suited to their dry climate where rivers were more dispersed and fluctuated in flow. Settlers and miners in California developed their own water right customs where appropriation is tied to who had been using the water the longest amount of time. This principle is characterized as “first time, first in right.” State legislatures and courts adopted this practice formally.56

At the time of statehood in 1896, Utah formally adopted the doctrine of prior appropriation, upheld all preexisting approopriations made under territorial law, and rejected the doctrine of riparian rights as incompatible with the state’s irrigation demands.57 Prior appropriation in Utah requires three traditional elements: (1) intent to apply water to beneficial uses; (2) an actual diversion of water from a natural source; and

56 Robert W. Adler, Robin K. Craig, and Noah D. Hall, Modern Water Law (St. Paul, MN: Foundation Press, 2013), 87–89; Irwin v. Phillips, 5 Cal. 140 (1855); and Coffin v. Left Hand Ditch Co., 6 Colo. 443 (1882). 57 Utah Const. art. XVII, § 1.

37 (3) an application of the water to abeneficial use.58 A beneficial use is defined as one that

promotes economic development of livelihood such as irrigating crops. In Utah, an

appropriator abandons a water right for nonuse if the right is not put to beneficial use for

seven years.59

This doctrine of prior appropriation dictates which user has priority to use the water—the right to “call” on the water based on when the user first put the water to beneficial use. This creates a complicated system when a downstream user may prevent an upstream user from irrigating and visa versa. Additionally, prior appropriation does not promote conservation. In Utah, there are two statutorily mandated units of measurement for water. Cubic feet per second is the standard measurement of flow, while acre-feet is the standard measurement of volume, being the amount of water upon an acre covered one foot deep, equivalent to 43,560 cubic feet.60 A user has the right to a

certain amount of water and if they fail to use the total water right, they are at risk of

losing the unused portion of their water right. This tends to encourage excessive use, and

depletes the river more rapidly.61

Because of the interconnectedness of the watershed, the location of the marsh, and

the legal incentives to overuse water, the Bear River marsh is vulnerable to any and all

uses along the course of the Bear River. Irrigation developments in Wyoming, Idaho,

58 United States v. Caldwell, 231 P.434, 436 (Utah 1924). 59 Utah Code Ann. 1953 § 73-1-4 (West 2014). 60 Utah Code Ann. 1953 § 73-1-2 (West 2014). 61 Adler, Craig, and Hall, Modern Water Law, 87–89. For more on the complications of prior appropriation in the Bear River Watershed, see Joanna Endter-Wada, Theresa Selfa, and Lisa W. Welsh, “Hydraulic Interdependencies and Human Cooperation: The Process of Adapting to Droughts,” Water, Climate, and Society 1 (October 2009): 54–70.

38 and throughout Utah all impact the marsh. If a rancher uses water in Wyoming, that water likely does not make it down to the marsh. Therefore, each and every diversion of water in the watershed, whether directly on the Bear River or on its tributaries, puts increased pressure on the river and reduces the amount of water available to the marsh.

The following section highlights the earliest irrigation developments throughout the watershed that contributed to the catastrophic droughts affecting the marsh in the early

1900s.

In 1847, Brigham Young led a caravan of Mormon pioneers into the Great Salt

Lake Valley, and began plans for a large-scale Mormon settlement along the Wasatch

Front. Early leaders understood the importance of water to the success of their new settlements and agrarian economy. Prior to migrating west, Mormon leaders studied

Frémont’s reports on the availability of water in the Great Basin, as investigated irrigation techniques they would need to deploy. Once in Salt Lake City, Mormon pioneers experimented with irrigation and agriculture in the arid climate and their imported eastern ideas of water rights did not work as expected in the West. In the eastern United States, irrigation was not as prevalent and the states followed principles of riparian law. Riparian rights provide that water must not be taken from a stream unless it can be returned to the stream without a significant diminution of volume. Riparian law worked in the East where settlements tended to have sufficient water supplies in the form of rain and large rivers. However, in the irrigated West, the land between the Pacific

39 Ocean and the ninety-eight meridian characterized by its aridity, this system was not

practical.62

Mormon leaders realized that riparian water rights could not work in Utah, and

established a community owned and managed system for water. Salt Lake’s physical layout (based on the Plat of Zion, a kind of New England town plan) consisted of homes and businesses congregated together with agricultural fields outside of the city. Local religious leaders oversaw all management and construction of irrigation systems necessary to provide water to village farms up and down the Wasatch Front. The irrigation system started with small dams built at the mouths of canyons to divert water into lateral canals. The canals then ran from the canyons out to the level land of the valleys where they were subdivided into branch canals. 63

Irrigators constructed then turned the water towards their land using a system of

gates and ditches. Gates diverting off the branch canals turned water into each farmer’s

individual ditch that led to their fields. Farmers raised their gates, allowing the flow to

continue down the branch canals. Each farm had furrows approximately a foot apart

running parallel to one another, and farmers ran their water into the furrows to irrigate

their crops. Each farm generally had the right to use water for a set period of time once a

62 Leonard J. Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom: Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830–1900 (1958; repr., Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966), 41, 52–53; Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah: Articles Concerning Irrigation Work and Conditions in Utah, and Problems of the Arid West (Salt Lake City: Utah Irrigation Commission, 1895), 11; and Donald Worster, Rivers of Empire: Water, Aridity, and the Growth of the American West (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), 13. For an extended description of the Mormon village settlement pattern, see Lowry Nelson, The Mormon Village: A Pattern and Technique of Land Settlement (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1952), 3–53. 63 Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom, 52–53; and Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah, 7.

40 week or more, depending on the water requirements of each community and valley. This community driven system supervised and adjudicated by Mormon church leaders proved effective for irrigating crops in the arid landscape up and down the Wasatch Front and throughout Utah.64

In the late 1840s and early 1850s Brigham Young sent Mormon settlers to explore and settle the valleys surrounding Salt Lake City. In 1850, William Davis, James Brook, and Thomas Pierce traveled north of Salt Lake City to establish a settlement. These men arrived at Box Elder Creek where they found plenty of trees, available water, and berries, deer, grouse, quail, ducks and geese. The men determined that this area would be the best place for settlement. These three men left for Salt Lake before winter hit, but returned with their families in 1851. Upon arrival, the three families constructed Davis

Fort along Box Elder Creek. Settlers continued to arrive from Salt Lake over the next couple of years, and by 1852 there were 1,399 individuals and 39 families living at Davis

Fort. In July 1853, the settlers moved into a second fort known as Box Elder Fort. In

1853, the church called Lorenzo Snow, a Mormon leader and member of the quorum of

12, to help settle the area around Box Elder Fort. Snow brought with him fifty-four families. Multiple companies of Scandinavian Mormon immigrants followed the original settlers. These early pioneers settled at present day Brigham City, Utah.65

Life at Box Elder Fort depended on a sufficient water supply. Early settlers diverted Box Elder Creek to water their crops as well as to provide water for their industrial ventures. The first irrigation canals were hand dug ditches providing water for

64 Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah, 8. 65 Huchel, A History of Box Elder County, 63–69.

41 the pioneers’ farms. Settlers planted fields of wheat, alfalfa, and mixed vegetables, along

with fruit orchards. Beginning in 1857, Brigham City became a center for a vibrant

industrial agricultural economy. Industrial agriculture is defined as capital-intensive

farming with a focus on large-scale farms, extensive irrigation developments, and the use

of mechanization in the farming process. In Utah, this agricultural practice developed

along with industrialization to refine raw goods into finished products. The first

industrial building was the Box Elder Flour Mill, located in the northeast corner of

Brigham City where diverted water from Box Elder Creek powered the mill. The establishment of the Brigham City Tannery in 1866 and the Brigham City Mercantile and

Manufacturing Association Woolen Factory in 1871 followed the flourmill.66

In the mid-1850s, reports of Cache Valley’s grazing potential and relatively

abundant water supply drew settlers over the Wellsville Mountains. Descriptions of the

many rivers, sloughs, and fertile soils made this region attractive, and settlers brought

with them the proven community planning and irrigation techniques already practiced in

Salt Lake and Utah Valleys. Settlers found the Bear River itself too difficult to tap for

irrigation purposes due to its slow and meandering nature and numerous wetlands.

Instead, they focused their attention on settling the bases of the Wellsville Mountains and

the Bear River Range where timber was plentiful and the Bear River tributaries were

much easier to dam and divert for irrigation.67

66 Ibid., 73; and Box Elder Chapter Sons of Utah Pioneers, Box Elder Lore of the Nineteenth Century (Brigham City, UT: Box Elder News and Journal, 1951), 40–48. 67 F. Ross Peterson, A History of Cache Valley (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1997), 2.

42 The first settlement in Cache Valley was Maughn’s Fort, now Wellsville, established in 1856 by Peter Maughan. The settlers built irrigation ditches from the Little

Bear River as part of their preparations for the planting of the first crops in the spring of

1857. However, the onset of the Utah War, an armed confrontation between Mormon settlers and the United State government, delayed the settlers’ return until 1859. Upon their return, the settlers constructed a canal from the Little Bear River to irrigate 1,400 acres known as the East Field.68

As settlers spread north throughout Cache Valley, and further north and east into

the upper reaches of the Bear River watershed, they placed more and more pressure was

the Bear River’s water supply. Residents of Logan completed the Logan and Hyde Park

Canal on 18 May 1860, while Smithfield irrigated from Summit Creek. In the spring of

1860, settlers of Hyrum dug a nine-mile long canal from the Little Bear. The town of

Richmond built canals from Cherry and High creeks for their own irrigation purposes. In

1865 local residents of Logan began construction of the Logan-Richmond Canal. By the

end of the year that canal reached south to Hyrum, and within three years it was extended

north to Smithfield. Local residents constructed irrigation systems for much of the easily

irrigable parts of the valley by 1870, and by 1880 residents had irrigated nearly 50,000

acres.69

Southeastern Idaho’s agricultural region also relied on the Bear River and its

tributaries for its water supply. Residents of Gem Valley, settled in the early 1860s,

68 R. Scott Wrenn, “Water Resource Development in the Bear River Basin of Utah, Idaho, and Wyoming,” (master’s thesis, Utah State University, 1973), 26. 69 Ibid., 26–29; Leonard J. Arrington, “Life and Labor Among the Pioneers,” in The History of a Valley, ed. Joel E. Ricks (Logan: Cache County Centennial Commission, 1956), 140–69.

43 began appropriating Bear River water within five years of arriving. As with Cache

Valley, the first Idaho canals were crude ditches. Local farmers tapped smaller

tributaries of the Bear, and successfully dug one small irrigation ditch directly from the

Bear River itself. However, just like the rest of the Bear River watershed, full-scale

irrigation from the Bear River directly required the construction an expensive dam and

canal system, which was not feasible until new technology and capital arrived.70

Further upstream, settlers of the Bear Lake Valley added more stress to the Bear

River’s water supply. Charles C. Rich led Mormon settlers into the Bear Lake Valley in

September of 1863, and established the community of Paris. The first group of settlers

consisted of forty-eight men, forty women, and some thirty children. They located their

settlement along Paris Creek and spread out along the western edge of Bear Lake.

Mormon leaders considered this the best place for colonization due to its abundant supply of wood and access to water.71

In 1864, Paris residents began to explore and settle the northern reaches of Bear

Lake Valley, founding the communities of Liberty and Montpelier, Idaho among others.

Many of the settlers were European immigrants with little or no experience at building new settlements. Therefore, Brigham Young issued instructions on how to set up the settlements including the specifics of town layout, the construction of saw mills, the importance of agriculture and construction of irrigation ditches, and the conservative use of the forests (i.e. no clear cutting). The pioneers heeded Young’s advice and broke

70 McCarthy, Last Chance Canal Company, 28–52; and Clarence T. Johnston and Joseph A. Breckons, Water-Right Problems of Bear River (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1899), 18. 71 Russell R. Rich, Land of The Sky-Blue Water: A History of the L.D.S. Settlement of the Bear Lake Valley (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1963), 20–22.

44 ground for crops and constructed irrigation ditches. Every community in Bear Lake

Valley had one or two streams flowing through it, and the settlers built the ditches from

these streams and constructed multiple water-powered sawmills.72

The initial period of settlement in the Bear River watershed lasted until the 1870s

with the establishment of Soda Springs at the most northern location of the Bear River.

During this first wave of settlement, the settlers focused on developing the tributaries of the Bear River rather than trying to control the Bear River itself. Building irrigation systems on the tributaries was a result of the engineering limitations of the time. Initial

irrigation development in the region was modest, consisting of small diversion ditches

that carried water to crops on adjacent farmland. Settlers implemented proven irrigation techniques by digging ditches using wooden plows drawn by teams of oxen, or by manual labor gangs with picks and shovels. The labor of constructing canals was made more difficult due to the rocky soil of the alluvial fans and the need for making sure that the canals all flowed down hill. Tributaries provided the ideal locale for canals of this nature. They were easily accessible and much easier to control than the main stem of the

Bear River proper.73

In the late 1880s, farmers realized that the early methods of irrigation was no

longer providing enough water for the land being put under cultivation. Settlers had

appropriated the available flows from tributaries, and any newly irrigated land required

significant construction and capital. Much needed infrastructure necessitated the

establishment of mutual stock companies to raise capital. Farmers joined and invested in

72 Ibid., 41. 73 Ibid., 57–60.

45 irrigation cooperatives to provide water to land further from the streams. These new

companies had the capital to construct larger dams and canal systems that provided water

to extensive acreage. The introduction of these larger industrial-scale capital intensive irrigation projects increased the amount of water being diverted from the watershed.74

The Bear River itself became the focus for many of these large irrigation enterprises. In Cache Valley, local farmers established the Logan Northern Irrigation

Company, West Cache Canal, Gentile Valley Irrigation Company, and the Bear River

Canal. These canals required users to purchase bonds to for construction, and upon completion to pay an operation and maintenance charge. The Bear River Canal Company in Box Elder County was one of the most prominent canal systems in northern Utah. Its completion cost over two million dollars. By 1889 the company was the largest irrigation operation in the state of Utah, claiming 175,000 acres of land under its ditches. In addition the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company constructed pumping stations in 1901 to irrigate another 10,000 acres for sugar beets. Throughout the early 1900s Utah-Idaho Sugar

Company purchase many of the local irrigation companies and controlled most of the water development in the watershed.75

In addition to mutual stock companies, local communities invested in new

irrigation systems. One prominent example is the Logan, Hyde Park, and Smithfield

Irrigation Company. City investment allowed each municipality to charge for

74 Ibid.; and Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah, 10. 75 Rich, Land of The Sky-Blue Water, 57–60; Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah, 76, 125; Stuart H. Richards, Lynn H. Davis, and Richard E. Griffin, Irrigation & Canal Companies of Utah (Logan: Agricultural Experiment State Extension Services Utah State University, 1963); and Matthew C. Godfrey, Religion, Politics, and Sugar: The Mormon Church, the Federal Government, and the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, 1907–1921 (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2007), 73–74.

46 distributing water at a flat rate throughout their city. The establishment of these canal

companies in the lower watershed allowed settlers to more efficiently control the

availability of water year round, leading to the irrigation of roughly 100,000 acres in

Cache Valley by the turn of the century. By 1900 Cache County had the most acres in cultivation in Utah.76

Large-scale irrigation development was not limited to Cache Valley. Irrigation

demands at the turn of the century resulted in projects further upstream in Southern Idaho

and the Bear Lake Valley. Famers in Gem Valley, Idaho spent years attempting to

efficiently irrigate their crops. After numerous unsuccessful attempts, the residents of

Gem Valley established The Last Chance Canal Company in 1896 with the intention of

bringing water to forty thousand acres of farmland. While the Company never fully

achieved its ambitious total acreage goals, its direct diversion from the Bear River fed

four separate canals that were operational by 1902. 77

In Bear Lake Valley, irrigation companies looked to Bear Lake as a storage

reservoir at the turn of the century. The diversion of water from the Bear River into Bear

Lake was first discussed in Department of Agriculture Bulletin No. 70 in 1898. The

Bulletin authors noted that the elevation difference between the Bear River and the lake was a mere two feet. The Department proposed connecting the two through a canal, and that use of the lake as a reservoir would alleviate many shortage problems downstream

and support 400,000 additional acres of agricultural production. George Swendsen, from

the Utah Agricultural College in Logan, examined Bear Lake as a possible reservoir site

76 Wrenn, “Water Resources Development,” 43–61. 77 McCarthy, Last Chance Canal Company, 28–52.

47 for the Federal Reclamation Service in 1902–1903. At the time, Telluride Power

Company was constructing the Diglet Inlet Canal from the Bear River to Mud Lake on the north end of Bear Lake, while the Utah Sugar Company was constructing a different

canal from Mud Lake to the Bear River. Neither had made much progress in their construction.78

Figure 7. Irrigation infrastructure for the Last Chance Canal Company, circa 1905. Left, “Coffer Dam on the Bear River Near Grace Idaho, P0313 C0748, Compton Photograph Studio Archive, Utah State University, Merill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives. Right, “Last Chance Canal Flume Carrying Irrigation Water to the West Side of the Bear River, Grace, Idaho, 1905,” P0313 C0742, Compton Photograph Studio Archive, Utah State University, Merill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives. Photos courtesy of Utah State University, Merill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives.

In 1912, Utah Power and Light Company (UPL) was organized and consolidated

with Telluride Power Company. Utah Power continued construction on Telluride’s

Diglet Canal project and finally completed it in 1918. The Diglet Canal diverted

78 Johnston and Breckons, Water-Right Problems of Bear River, 12–14; and Jack A. Barnett, “History of the Bear River Compact,” Utah Division of Water Rights, http://waterrights.utah.gov/Techinfo/Bearrivc/History.html (accessed 23 March 2015).

48 significant amounts of water into Mud Lake, raised the water surface and overflowed into

the Bear Lake natural outlet channel, essentially reversing the flow of Bear Lake’s

drainage for significant portions of the year. This diversion of the Bear River into Bear

Lake altered the natural hydrology of Bear Lake so the top 21.65 feet of the lake’s depth

serves a storage reservoir for downstream water use.79

In addition to irrigation canals, power and agricultural companies turned to the

Bear River as a significant power source for the growing population. The Utah Sugar

Company constructed the first hydropower dam in the Bear River watershed in 1903 near

the town of Collinston, Utah. The company built the dam (costing $240,000) on one of

their own canals and generated 2,700 horsepower to pump water to a tract of 10,000 acres

of land for sugar beets. The hydro plant later furnished power for the town of Garland and for Utah Power and Light. The company enlarged the plant to 3,700 horsepower in

1904 and to 5,400 horsepower in 1906 to meet UPL demands. By 1927, UPL operated five power plants on the Bear River: the Grace plant (1908); the Cove plant (1917); the

Oneida plant (1920); the Soda Spring plant (1925); and the Cutler plant (1927).80

79 Foundation for Water and Energy Education, “90 Years Later, Early Bear River Projects Still Work,” 6 September 2000, http://news.fwee.org/?p=2266 (accessed 27 March 2014); and Endter-Wada, Selfa, and Welsh, “Hydraulic Interdependencies and Human Cooperation,” 61. 80 Leonard J. Arrington, Beet Sugar in the West: A History of the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, 1891–1966 (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1966), 47; Godfrey, Religion, Politics, and Sugar, 73–74; and Foundation for Water and Energy Education, “90 Years Later, Early Bear River Projects Still Work,” 6 September 2000, http://news.fwee.org/?p=2266 (accessed 27 March 2014)

49 Table 1 Bear River Watershed Population 1890–1910 County 1890 1900 1910 Oneida County, ID81 6,819 8,953 15,510 Bear Lake County, ID 6,007 7,061 7,789 Rich County, UT 1,827 1,946 1,883 Box Elder County, UT 7,642 10,009 13,894 Cache County, UT 15,509 18,119 23, 062 Uinta County, WY82 7,414 12,223 16,982

Sources: Data from U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics of Population—Idaho Supplement (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 573, 578; U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States: Statistics of Population—Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 529, 531; and U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics for Wyoming (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 571, 574.

Population growth and large-scale irrigation works allowed farmers to place more land in cultivation. The population of the counties that composed the watershed (Uintah,

WY; Rich, UT; Bear Lake, ID; Oneida, ID; Cache, UT; and Box Elder, UT) nearly doubled from 1890 to 1910, with farming as the dominant occupation among residents

(see table 1). Farmers of the watershed utilized water to turn the land into the one of the most productive agriculture regions of the arid West, and the most productive in Utah.

Over a period of ten years, irrigation companies and local farmers put an additional

169,904 acres into irrigated cultivation. The largest increases in acreage were in Rich,

81 Oneida County included the area presently in Caribou and Franklin Counties, Idaho. 82 Uinta county included a much larger territory than today. It included the western edge of Wyoming up to Yellowstone National Park including area presently included in Lincoln, Sublette, and Teton Counties.

50 Cache, and Box Elder Counties. From 1900 to 1910, Box Elder County acreage

increased 90,303 to 147,923 acres, Rich County increased its acreage from 81,379 to

100,804, and Cache County witnessed the largest increase in total irrigated acreage with

an increase from 100,278 acres to 181,383 acres.83

Irrigated agriculture in the Bear River watershed was a lucrative endeavor.

Farmers primarily grew cereals and grains, hay and forage, potatoes, sugar beets, and fruit (see figure 8). Cereals, particularly wheat, took up the most acreage in the watershed. Box Elder was the exception to this because of their expansive fruit industry, particularly peaches. In 1910, the value of crops grown in the counties of the watershed

equaled approximately 8 million dollars annually. Comparatively, the value of crops in

Salt Lake County equaled approximately 1.7 million dollars annually and in Utah County

approximately 2.1 million dollars annually.84 The ability to irrigate lands further from

the river channel allowed this industrial scale growth. The increased acreage, however,

placed more pressure on the Bear River watershed’s limited water supply.85

83 U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics of Population—Idaho Supplement (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 573, 578; U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of The United States: Statistics of Population—Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 529, 531; and U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of The United States, 1910: Statistics for Wyoming (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 571, 574. 84 U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Vol. VII, Agriculture: Nebraska-Wyoming, Alaska, Hawaii, and Porto Rico (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 737–38. 85 U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics of Population—Idaho Supplement (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 573, 578; and U.S. Census Bureau, Thirteenth Census of The United States, 1910: Vol. VII, Agriculture: Nebraska-Wyoming, Alaska, Hawaii, and Porto Rico (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913), 730, 731, 736.

Figure 8. Left. Crops and irrigation systems at the mouth of Logan Canyon. Photograph by George M. Turpin, 1896–1916, P0014 6:00:016, Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Agricultural College Of Utah Cyanotypes, 1896–1916. Right Steam-engine, threshing machine, and threshing crew on Peterson Ranch, Petersboro, Utah, 1908. Photograph by W. L. Peterson, A-3778, Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Historical Photoboards Collection. Photos courtesy of Utah state University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives.

This increased use, and allocation of available water, combined with the

construction of hydroelectric dams in the early 1900s, climate conditions, and logging in

the upper watershed greatly reduced the water flowing unused into the Bear River marsh.

Sitting at the bottom of the watershed, the marsh was at the mercy of upstream hydro

developments and was left short of water during the seasons when it was needed most.86

The nature of water in the Bear River watershed made the success of irrigation vulnerable to nature. Each spring as temperatures increased and the snow began to melt high in the mountains of the watershed, streams and rivers swelled. The seasonal nature

86 Richards, Davis, and Griffin, Irrigation & Canal Companies; “Irrigation In Rich,” Salt Lake Herald, 14 September 1889; “Big Irrigation Project,” Deseret News (Salt Lake City, UT), 1 September 1898; “Irrigation in Utah,” Deseret News, 23 December 1899; “Mass Meeting of Farmers,” Salt Lake Herald, 1 May 1900; “Bear Lake Water,” Deseret News, 4 March 1905; and Wrenn, “Water Resources Development,” 68–70.

52 of these snowmelt flows was a significant problem for settlers of the region. If farmers let rivers run unabated, there would not be enough water for crops in the hot dry summer months. Early irrigation efforts fell victim to the seasonality of water, with canals and streams going dry. Local irrigators worked around this problem by constructing diversion dams to hold spring runoff for later summer use. As a result of this network of dams and canals the marsh rarely received enough water to flush and restore its habitat.

Even during “wet” years, the marsh rarely had an adequate water supply to guarantee its health. Given that the irrigation season in northern Utah runs from April through

September, with the Bear River historically reaching its maximum flow between the 10th and 20th of June each year, little water remained available for the wetland during the critical fall waterfowl migration. Each fall, Bear River bay’s marshes reduced in size as acres went dry. The areas that maintained water were either controlled by local duck clubs, or were so shallow and warm that they became breeding grounds for disease.87

As agricultural use was allocated more and more of the river’s flow, the overall acreage of wetlands in Cache and Box Elder counties slowly shrank, resulting in increased concentrations of wild fowl on smaller wetlands. Comparison accounts of the

Bear River marsh show that thousands of once flooded acres had become dry, barren and alkaline mud flats by 1910.88 This concentration initially had little impact on the numbers of waterfowl, but with an impending drought cycle, as is common in the arid

West, this landscape was set up for a disaster. Settled during a period of exceptionally wet years, residents of this region were not prepared for the reduced rainfall and severe

87 Utah Irrigation Commission, Irrigation in Utah, 5. 88 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake, 166.

53 droughts of the early twentieth century, a return (according to some scientists) to a more

typical hydrologic and climatic cycle.89

The winter of 1909–1910 was relatively average in terms of precipitation in the

Bear River watershed, but a warmer than normal spring and summer led to a rapid run-

off. The months of March, April, and May were three degrees Celsius warmer than the

historical average.90 During the summer, when rainfall often supplements the snowpack

and can raise the levels of the marsh up to five inches, little rain fell. 1910 was one of the

driest years in the history of the state. Between March and October precipitation in Utah

ran nearly two inches below the historic average. The 1910 drought was one of the worst

in the history of the state.91

89 Cornelia Dean, “The ‘Drought’ in Southwest May be Normal, Report Says,” New York Times, 22 February 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/22/us/22river.html?_r=0 (accessed 23 March 2015); and Headwaters News, “New Report Says West’s Drought Cycle Not Unusual,” New West, last modified 23 February 2007, http://newwest.net /main/article/new_report_says_wests_drought_cycle_not_unusual/ (accessed 23 March 2015). 90 National Oceanic And Atmospheric Administration, “Utah, Temperature, March–May 1895–2010,” http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/temp-and-precip/time-Series /Index.Php?Parameter=Tmp&Month=5&Year=1910&Filter=3&State=42&Div=0 (accessed 23 March 2015). 91 John A. Kadlec and Loren M. Smith, “The Great Basin Marshes,” in Habitat Management for Migrating and Wintering Waterfowl in North America, ed. Loren M. Smith, Roger L. Pederson, and Richard M. Kaminski (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 1989), 451–471; National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, “Precipitation Rankings, May 1910, Utah,” http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/temp-and-precip/Climatological- Rankings/ (accessed 19 March 2015); and “Too Hot in Utah,” Washington (PA) Observer, 11 July 1910.

Figure 9. “Dead ducks, Willard Spur area, 1932,” P0020 1:206, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge Photographs, 1927–1970, Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives. Photo courtesy of Utah State University Merrill- Cazier, Special Collections and Archives.

As the 1910 fall approached, managers of Utah’s duck clubs reported seeing

increased numbers of sick and dying ducks. Seeing a few sick birds was not unusual, but

the high volume and density of dying birds alarmed sportsmen. Reports of waterfowl

falling out of the sky as if they were shot were not uncommon.92 J. J. Hofelling, manager

of the New State Gun Club located on the Bear River marsh, said that every day he saw

more and more dead ducks and other migratory birds. As an experiment he gave some

ducks and some geese that he collected “a bath each day, bathe[d] their eyes in salt water

and feed them some black pepper.”93 Apparently the ducks began to recover from the

duck sickness, but probably not due to the pepper. Newspapers throughout the state and nation wrote extensively about the “bird malady” epidemic, often using photographs to

92 Jack Ray, “Great Salt Lake Cuck Club History” (unpublished manuscript, 20 March 2015), Pdf. 93 “More Ducks Come to Infected Sloughs,” Salt Lake (UT) Telegram, 14 September 1910; and “Camera Tells Sad Story,” Salt Lake Telegram, 12 September 1910.

55 show the horrific sight of dead birds lining the mud flats. But the modest efforts of game

managers could not prevent the wholesale death of tens of thousands of waterfowl (see

figure 9).94

Sportsmen were caught off guard by this disease and showed legitimate concern

over the health of the Bear River marsh. Many hunters and duck clubs called for a

suspension of the duck season until November first or until a cause of the disease became

known. Some sportsmen took to experimenting with cures for the ducks themselves, and

submitted proposals to check the disease. One notable proposal was to divert sewage

from communities along the Wasatch Front away from the wetlands, fearing that it had

contaminated the marshes. 95 But most of the ideas on the cause of this mass die-off came from professional ornithologists who concluded that the disease must have been some form of cholera caused by the presence of sewage in local fresh water.96

The 1910 outbreak of the “duck malady” signaled a tipping point in a long-term

landscape transformation. The Bear River marsh was subjected to immense and rapid changes during the early period of European settlement and occupation. Early accounts of the marsh described unbelievable numbers of waterfowl. However, by 1910 the once

94 J. J. Dodds, “Hunters Do Not Report Those Hungarian Birds,” Day (New London, CT), 20 October 1910. 95 “Sportsmen Want Sewage Diverted,” Salt Lake (UT) Herald, 22 September 1910; and “Minutes of the Board of Directors,” 24 September 1910, MSSB-211, folder 1, box 2, Chesapeake Duck Club Collection, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, Utah. 96 Cholera was nearly eliminated in western developed countries by 1910 with the most recent outbreaks occurring in Hamburg, Germany in the late nineteenth century and Naples, Italy in 1910–1911. For more on cholera and its effect on human populations at the turn of the century, see Richard J. Evans, Death in Hamburg: Society and Politics in the Cholera Years, 1830–1910 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987); and Charles E. Rosenberg, The Cholera Years: The United States in 1832, 1849, and 1866 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962).

56 healthy wetland was dry—a result of extensive upstream irrigation systems—and covered by the rotting carcasses of thousands of dead ducks and geese. The story of the Bear

River marsh’s decline is connected to the larger history of settlement and resource development in the arid American West. The wetland was the victim of settlers who diverted the Bear River and its tributaries for other agriculture and hydroelectric power, but it was also the unintended victim of those who tried to manage and conserve its resources for sport. By the time people had noticed the impact of irrigation on the marsh, it was nearly too late. In the coming years the marsh witnessed the deaths of roughly seven million waterfowl. Sportsmen and the federal government conducted groundbreaking ornithological research and campaigned for the creation of a national bird refuge. 57 CHAPTER IV

WETLAND LABORATORY

The 1910 outbreak of western duck sickness resulted in thousands of waterfowl deaths along the Great Salt Lake. Sportsmen, scientists, government officials, and the

general public were concerned about the cause and possible reach of this disease. The

public’s uncertainty centered on the fear of the unknown and the desire to solve the problem. In response to this uncertainty, people from around the nation became involved in the debate as to the cause. Local sportsmen argued that sewage delivery systems and the associated pollution were the main cause of the disease. Some scientists felt the disease was a form of cholera that had spread to the birds, while others blamed the high concentrations of alkali found in the vicinity of the Great Salt Lake. The overriding desire to contain the malady brought a seemingly local environmental issue to the nation’s attention and had long-lasting effects beyond the boundaries of the Bear River marsh.

At the turn of the twentieth century, Utah hunters started reporting sightings of unhealthy waterfowl. Fred Hanson, who lived near the mouth of the Bear River, recalled two bird guides that brought four hundred dead and helpless birds to him as early as

1896. Again in 1902 and 1903, sportsmen reported sick or dead birds on the New State

Gun Club at the mouth of the Jordan River. In 1904, sportsmen noted that more birds were helpless along the mouth of the Weber River. The number of birds that died in these early outbreaks may never be known. However, these first-hand observational 58 accounts provide evidence indicating that the disease was growing more prevalent as

the decade continued, and so was the concern of hunters.97

In 1908, disease affected waterfowl as never before, and hunters grew concerned over the condition of the wetlands all along the Great Salt Lake. Many reports from that season make note of how conditions had never been as bad. Two hunters, John

Lenninger and Pete Koessel, reported that

[t]he disease is most strange. It has robbed the birds of the odor which always is noticeable from a duck and renders them in a seeming stupor. They do not become scared and seem to have lost all energy. One can row about in a boat and pick the sick ducks out of the water. They either float on the surface of the lake or huddle close to the water line on the bank.98

Additionally, Walter Rampe, a professional hunter from Los Angeles, stated:

I have been hunting around here for 15 years . . . and never before have I seen the ducks in the condition they now are. It is dangerous to eat them and any hunter should not attempt to dispose of the birds while the present epidemic is on.99

Things worsened in 1910 with the first large-scale waterfowl epidemic in the history of the state. Beginning in July, sick birds began to appear at the mouths of rivers that fed the Great Salt Lake. The year was one of the driest on record in the American

West. Once healthy marshes were dry, becoming salt flats dotted with the decaying carcasses of thousands of wildfowl. According to V. T. Davis, manager of the Bear

River Club, eighty-five percent of all ducks on the club’s land near the lake died.100

97 Alexander Wetmore, Mortality Among Waterfowl Around Great Salt Lake, Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1915), 2; and Alexander Wetmore, The Duck Sickness in Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1918), 2. 98 “Duck Malady is Mysterious,” Bakersfield Californian, 2 October 1908. 99 Ibid. 100 Wetmore, Mortality Among Waterfowl, 2. For more on the drought of 1910 in the West, see Timothy Egan, The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire that Saved America (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2009); and Stephen J. Pyne, Year of the Fires: The Story of the Great Fires of 1910 (New York: Viking, 2001). 59 Scared, confused, and concerned over the condition of the marshes along Great

Salt Lake, sportsmen looked for answers and ways to prevent the malady spreading

elsewhere. Hypotheses and suggestions came flowing in from around the country and the

world. Dr. Reid Blair, veterinarian and pathologist of the New York Zoological Society,

wrote to the New State Gun Club that he suspected the disease must be a form of Duck

Cholera. His suggested remedy was to remove all diseased and dead waterfowl and then

disinfect the locality with sulfuric acid. According to the Box Elder News this account

correlated with the recommendations of many veterinarians from Utah.101

J. W. Young, a sportsman from London, England, proposed another hypothesis.

He felt that the disease was either cholera or enteritis, inflammation of the small intestine.

Young stated that the cause of the disease was that hunters had stopped shooting in the spring, and as a result the birds congregated in too large of numbers for too long. He suggested removing bag limits, shooting in the spring to scare ducks away, and burning all of the dead ducks. This had worked previously with pheasants in England and pigeons in Germany, and Young was convinced that this would improve the health of the wetland.102

Eventually the United States government proposed their own ideas about the root

cause of the disease and what to do about it. Dr. T. S. Parker, head of game preservation

at the Biological Survey, and J. R. Mohler, Chief of the Division of Pathology of the

Bureau of Animal Industry, conducted research on dead birds from the area and found no

signs of any type of cholera. Instead, Mohler believed the disease was coccidiosis, a

101 “Eastern Expert’s Duck Report,” Box Elder News (Brigham City, UT), 27 October 1910. 102 “London Sportsman Suggest a Remedy,” Salt Lake (UT) Telegram, 28 October 1910. 60 parasitic disease of the intestinal tract of animals transmitted through infected feces.103

While he did not have any idea of how or where the birds contracted the disease, he did suggest using unslaked lime to disinfect the marsh.104

Hypotheses from sportsmen, scientists, and government agencies did not initially gain much traction with the local duck hunters. The hunters had their own theory as to the cause and it gained the most notoriety. On 21 September 1910, nearly five hundred sportsmen from around the state met at the Commercial Club in Salt Lake City to discuss the malady and what to do. Their main concerns were the thousands of dying ducks and

the foul water that they believed was causing the epidemic.105

Sewage disposal in rivers was one of the main topics of discussion at the meeting.

At the time, Salt Lake City dumped its sewage directly into the Jordan River. The Jordan

River flows into the southern end of the Great Salt Lake and is the water supply for the

marshlands along the lake’s eastern shore. The sportsmen were convinced that the

disease was a direct response to the presence of sewage in fresh water. They also felt

strongly that the sewage was a health hazard, not only to ducks, but to livestock,

domesticated animals, and finally to residents around the Jordan River. Unanimously,

the sportsmen at the meeting supported this as the cause of the duck sickness. They then

103Julie D. Helm, “Coccidiosis in Poultry,” available at http://www.clemson.edu/public/ lph/ahp/disease_links/images/coccidia.pdf (accessed 24 January 2015). 104 “Fresh Slaked Lime for Experiment in Duck Cases Advised,” Salt Lake Telegram, 5 November 1910; and “Tests Proposed to Save Ducks,” Salt Lake (UT) Herald, 6 November 1910. 105 “Desire to Check the Duck Malady,” Salt Lake Herald, 21 September 1910. 61 passed a resolution formally requesting that the city divert its sewage away from all

fresh waters.106

One of the main concerns of the sportsmen and the general public was that the

disease might transfer to humans. The public heard reports of millions of ducks perishing

as a result of living in filth in this unhealthy environment, and even that the disease had

spread to domestic fowl and animals. This concern was so great that the New State Gun

Club issued a warning to consumers through the press not to eat the meat of local waterfowl. Willard Hansen, Utah State Dairy and Food Commissioner followed up this report by warning that he considered ducks to be unfit to eat and that the agency had

bared the sale of locally shot ducks in the markets of Utah.107

In February 1911, the sportsmen’s concerns over sewage in local rivers finally

made it to the Utah State Legislature. Senator Benner X. Smith, of Salt Lake City, a

prominent member of the New State Gun Club, proposed a bill to prohibit cities from

dumping sewage or refuse into “any river, stream, or other natural body of water or

within five hundred yards of the nearest bank.” Additionally, the bill set forth guidelines

for moving refuse and sewage near rivers. It required cities to use pipes or flumes

constructed of “concrete, iron, or other water tight material. Smith argued that this bill

106 Ibid.; “Sportsmen Decide Not to Shoot Ducks When Season Opens,” Salt Lake (UT) Telegram, 22 September 1910; and “Sportsmen Want Sewage Diverted,” Salt Lake Herald, 22 September 1910. 107 “Sportsmen Decide Not to Shoot Ducks”; Dr. George E. Ellerbeck, “Ducks Still Dying.” Salt Lake Telegram, 28 October 1910; and “Say Duck Malady Now is Affecting Domestic Fowl,” Salt Lake Telegram, 3 February 1911. 62 was intended to stop the spread of the duck malady. He was a firm believer that sewage in fresh water caused the disease in birds.108

Smith’s bill went to the Senate Committee on County and Municipal Corporations which conducted a public hearing that included public officials from Provo, Ogden, and

Salt Lake as well as concerned sportsmen. After an amendment changed the bill from preventing cities from dumping sewage to only “first class” cities the committee granted a favorable recommendation to the bill. Smith’s bill then passed a senate vote without much trouble. However, this rewording affected only Salt Lake City, leaving other communities to continue dumping their sewage in public waterways.109

As moderate as Senator Smith’s bill was, it had plenty of detractors. Smith’s bill prohibited the dumping of sewage and refuse into fresh water (rivers, canals, fresh water lakes) but not into the Great Salt Lake. As a result of the bill, Salt Lake City’s only option for sewage and refuse disposal was to dump directly into the Great Salt Lake instead of local rivers. Saltair Resort and the Inland Salt Company, two businesses located on the Great Salt Lake, were in direct opposition of the bill because of the proposed direct dumping of sewage and refuse into the Great Salt Lake. The Saltair, a

108 “Legislative Notes,” Salt Lake Telegram, 22 February 1911; Members of New State Gun Club, Utah, folder 1, box 138, Record Unit 7006, Alexander Wetmore Papers, Smithsonian Institute Archives, Washington, DC; An Act Regulating the Disposal of Sewage from Cities and Towns, S. Res. 25, 9th Leg. (Ut. 1911); “New Bills Introduced,” Salt Lake Tribune, 17 January 1911; and “To Prevent Disposition of Sewage in Streams,” Salt Lake Tribune, 17 January 1911. 109 “Ogden Sewage and Legislation,” Evening Standard (Ogden, UT), 24 January 1911; “Interesting to Sportsmen,” Salt Lake Tribune, 2 February 1911; “Duck Hunters and City Officials Not Agreed,” Salt Lake Tribune, 8 February 1911; “Three Guards Bills Passed by House,” Salt Lake Tribune, 9 February 1911; “Urged Passage of Land Bill,” Salt Lake Tribune, 17 February 1911; and “Legislative Notes,” Salt Lake Telegram, 22 February 1911. 63 resort on Great Salt Lake where people bathed in the lake, was fearful that the

dumping of sewage along and directly in Great Salt Lake would raise public health concerns and destroy their business. The Inland Salt Company, which produced salt for human consumption, expressed a desire to fight the bill because they feared that if it became known that sewage was infiltrating their evaporation ponds, people would no longer use their product.110

Salt Lake City Mayor John S. Bansford joined Saltair and Inland Crystal Salt

Company in opposition to Senator Smith’s bill. Bansford was against the bill because he

felt that it would hurt local businesses such as Saltair and Inland Salt Company; that the

bill did not benefit the city; and that overexpansion by local duck clubs caused the duck

malady, not sewage. Mayor Bransford released the following statement to the press

regarding Smith’s bill explaining his opposition:

Will a city of 100,000 people and $150,000,000 worth of property sit idly by and allow this infamous bill to pass without protest? The people of Salt Lake are sleeping on their rights when they permit such a piece of legislation to slip through. The passage of this bill would mean the destruction of Saltair as a bathing resort—its absolute destruction. President Clayton of the Inland Crystal Salt company informs me that his company will fight to the last ditch any attempt to run a sewer near his company’s works, where it would have to be built. I contend that the malady which killed the ducks is not due to the sewage entirely, but to the flooding by the various gun clubs of thousands of acres of land for the purpose of propagating ducks. This water, under the boiling sun of summer, is bound to breed disease.111

The Salt Lake Tribune later quoted Bransford saying that Smith’s bill was an “evil a

piece of legislation as was ever perpetrated upon a municipality.” Bransford believed

110 “Mayor Bransford Calls Upon People of Salt Lake to Work for Defeat of Sewage Bill,” Salt Lake Tribune, 3 March 1911. 111 Ibid. 64 that the bill would have a negative effect on Salt Lake City and its economy, and was merely the result of the selfishness of a few duck hunters. To Bransford, it was clear that

the city’s interests should not be subordinate to the wishes of recreational hunters.112

Similarly, George F. McGonagle, Salt Lake’s City Engineer, echoed Mayor

Bandford’s statements. McGonagle came out against Smith’s bill citing the infrastructure’s high cost along with the fact that birds had died all over Great Salt Lake.

He pointed to the Bear River marsh as an example. He argued that local residents did use the Bear River for sewage disposal, and that the marsh had some of the highest waterfowl casualties in the state. McGonagle estimated that the cost of building the pipeline to directly dump sewage into the Great Salt Lake rather than local streams would be

$150,000, which was a “heavy and sudden expense to Salt Lake City” with no real advantage for the ducks. Like Mayor Bransford, McGonagle blamed the malady on the over-expansion of the duck clubs where stagnant water was prevalent, not the dumping of sewage into rivers.113

Local newspapers endorsed Salt Lake City’s position on the sewage bill.

Following the mayor’s lead, the Tribune published an editorial fully backing the mayor,

and stated that this bill would be a blow to the interests of the city. Furthermore, the

paper argued that it was too costly to move forward with the bill considering this was all

based on an assumption that sewage might be the culprit of the disease. This feeling was

112 Ibid. 113 “Involves Big Outlay for City,” Salt Lake Telegram, 24 February 1911. 65 also supported by Ogden’s newspaper, The Evening Standard, which urged its readers to join Salt Lake City in protesting the bill. 114

Initially, the House Committee on County and Municipal Corporations gave the bill a positive recommendation, only to pull it back for further examination and another public hearing. At this hearing the two sides fully debated the legislation. For nearly two

hours both sides presented their arguments to the committee. Mayor Bransford opened

the hearing and detailed the costs of building the sewage diversion and then dumping the

water directly into Great Salt Lake. He argued that the high cost of the infrastructure

was not necessary because sewage was not the cause of the malady. Bransford also

explained the negative impact that the bill would have on the residents of Salt Lake.

Joseph Nelson and J. E. Langford, the president and the manager of Saltair respectively, followed Bransford, explaining to the committee the disastrous impact that Smith’s bill

would have on their business. They opposed the direct dumping of sewage into the Great

Salt Lake. Saltair officials felt that the present method of dumping it into rivers and

letting the river filter the sewage was preferable to direct dumping into the lake.115

Most of the people who spoke at the hearing opposed the bill, with the exception of a few representatives from the gun clubs and Davis County. Charles R. Mabey of

Bountiful was in favor of the bill because he said Davis County had been Salt Lake City’s sewage dump for far too long and he wanted relief from this sewage. Also representing

Davis County was Alma Hardy, health officer in Bountiful, who stated that the “typhoid

114 “Mayor Bransford is Right,” Salt Lake Tribune, 4 March 1911; and “Sewage System of Ogden,” Evening Standard, 3 March 1911. 115 “Declares Bill is Ruinous Act,” Salt Lake Tribune, 4 March 1911; and “Sewage Bill Dies in House,” Salt Lake Telegram, 4 March 1911. 66 fever epidemic from which [the residents of] Bountiful [suffer] every summer is

caused by the sewage from Salt Lake City.” However, after two hours of debate the committee adjourned until the following morning when it gave an unfavorable recommendation and the bill died in committee. Salt Lake City officials felt that disaster was adverted for Salt Lake City, and the Tribune declared that the bill’s defeat was a

“triumph of public utility and economics vs. sport.”116

Even though the bill failed, the sewer debate was not yet finished. Hunters and

Salt Lake City officials met and developed a plan to resolve their differences. The

hunters wanted the city to stop dumping sewage into the Jordan River, while city officials

did not want to dump directly into the lake. Instead of dumping directly into Great Salt

Lake near the Saltair, the city built a sewer extension, completed in November 1911,

which carried sewage by flume dumped the sewage onto salt flats ten miles away from

Saltair on the eastern shore of the Great Salt northwest of downtown Salt Lake. The

Saltair fully supported this plan because it moved the sewage disposal point further away

from their resort, and ever further than the old point which was only two miles from the

resort. All parties involved considered this plan a solid solution, except for Bountiful

which worried about open sewage and the diseases that came along with it, particularly typhoid fever.117

116 “Sewage Bill Dies in House,” Salt Lake Telegram, 4 March 1911; “Sewage Measure is Defeated in House,” Salt Lake Tribune, 5 March 1911; “What Happened to Bills in the Legislature,” Salt Lake Tribune, 19 March 1911; and “Untitled,” Salt Lake Tribune, 6 March 1911. 117 “May Settle Question of Sewage Disposition,” Salt Lake Tribune, 31 March 1911. For more on protests to the sewer extension, see “Salt Lake Sewage Menace to this County,” Davis County (UT) Clipper, 21 July 1911; “Peril of the Sewer,” Davis County Clipper, 22 September 1911; and “Sewer Still Menaces,” Davis County Clipper, 29 67 However, the debate on the cause of the waterfowl mortality was far from over.

In the spring of 1912, Fred W. Chambers, Utah fish and game commissioner, secured

assurances from the Bureau of Animal Industry that they would investigate the outbreak

in Utah and neighboring states suffering similar epidemics. However, in the meantime

the State Fish and Game began their preparations for curbing the disease. Chambers and a crew traveled up to the mouth of the Bear River to assess the situation so they could

assist federal officials in their preliminary studies of the disease. He also instructed his

deputy wardens to kill and bury every duck appearing to be suffering from the disease.

By the fall of 1912, the duck malady had all subsided. Locals credited fall rains and

rising water levels. The official numbers of deceased waterfowl were 30,000 from the

Weber River flats and 44,462 from Bear River, numbers much lower than Chambers and

his agency had expected for 1912.118

Dr. B. H. Ransom, chief zoologist of the Bureau of Animal Industry, U.S.

Department of Agriculture, arrived in Utah to investigate the cause of the disease. He

had previously investigated sheep deaths in Idaho and Montana. While in Utah for a

brief time, he reached the conclusion that the disease had to be of bacterial origin as it

spread easily from duck to duck. In declaring it an infectious disease, he went on record

September 1911. For more on the sewer’s completion, see “Woods Cross,” Davis County Clipper, 9 August 1911; “Sewer Extension Nears Completion: Indicates Progress of the City,” Salt Lake Tribune, 1 November 1911; “Will Open Outlet Canal Wednesday,” Salt Lake Herald, 4 November 1911; “New Sewer Canal Ready for Opening,” Salt Lake Herald, 7 November 1911; and “Sewer Extension is Now Completed,” Salt Lake Tribune, 9 November 1911. 118 “Duck Malady will be Investigated by Expert,” Deseret News (Salt Lake City, UT), 5 April 1911; “Checking Spread of Duck Disease,” Salt Lake Telegram, 15 August 1912; Walter D. Bratz, “Sport Gossip,” Salt Lake Telegram, 31 August 1912; and “Fine Game Season Nears, Say Wardens,” Eastern Utah Advocate (Price, UT), 26 September 1912. 68 stating that the cause was not due to sewage and refuse contamination. He also noted

that the disease was unique to Utah as it had not been seen anywhere else in the United

States. Before leaving, Ransom prepared carcasses and samples of water and soil for

further laboratory study in Washington, D.C.119

Even though the disease was less prominent in 1912 and 1913 than in previous

years, the mystery and fear surrounding the outbreaks continued to build as the nation’s

interest in protecting migratory birds increased. Sportsmen had lobbied the United States

Congress to consider the interests of migratory birds and protect them through legislation

for over a decade. Congressman George Shiras III of Pennsylvania was the first to

author migratory game bird legislation. He argued that since migratory birds did not remain in a single jurisdiction, but rather crossed state lines, the federal government could exercise authority over the birds under the Commerce Clause of the United States

Constitution. Even with such an important insight, Shiras’s bill failed to gain traction and failed to pass on Capitol Hill for several years. Shira’s bill became a model for future proposed bills.120

After years of lobbying, conservationists, led by William Hornaday, were finally

able to get enough backers for congressional action. Their proposal was to extend

Shiras’s proposed law to include all migratory birds, and not just game birds. This allowed the general public to get behind the bill, rather than just sportsmen. The aesthetic beauty of birds enthralled the American public, and the idea of ensuring their

protection was attractive to many in the American public. In 1912, Senator George

McLean of Connecticut and Congressman John Weeks of Massachusetts, with the

119 “Polluted Water Not Responsible,” Salt Lake Telegram¸ 28 September 1912. 120 Dorsey, Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 183. 69 support of conservation groups such as the National Associations of Audubon

Societies, and sportsmen groups such as the American Game Protective and Propagation

Association, proposed legislation that signaled the federal government’s first venture into

migratory bird protection. While, this bill had the backing of many people across the

nation, it had its fair share of detractors. Proponents of state’s rights argued that the bill

was an unconstitutional federal overreach, and President William Howard Taft, a

conservative legal scholar, threatened to veto the bill. On March 4, 1913, the Migratory

Bird Act arrived on President Taft’s desk as a rider on an agricultural appropriations bill.

Unaware of the attachment, Taft signed the act into law during the waning hours of his

presidency.121

The Migratory Bird Act was a turning point in migratory bird conservation.

However, the bill itself was rather weak. The act intended to stop commercial hunting

and the shipment of migratory birds across state lines. It gave the federal Secretary of

Agriculture the power to set hunting seasons nationwide in consideration of the

“distribution, abundance, economic value, breeding habits and times and lives of

migratory flight of such birds.” However, it never received the enforcement funding that

its authors desired. Congress appropriated a mere $10,0000 in 1913 to enforce the act.

The Biological Survey alone requested $200,000 for enforcement, but received no funding from Congress. While the Migratory Bird Act of 1913 had little chance of success because of constitutional challenges and a lack of funding, the legislation itself was recognition of the scale of bird migration beyond state and local governments and an

121 Ibid., 183–88. 70 important proclamation to the country that the plight of migratory birds was a national

issue.122

In 1913, the Biological Survey, in accordance with the new law, sent agents to the

Great Salt Lake to investigate the duck malady. Beginning in August of that year, S. E.

Piper conducted preliminary studies of the conditions of the marsh. However, it was not

until 1914 that the United States Congress appropriated $5,000 to investigate the malady

and construct a “duck hospital.”123 This appropriation was apparently separate from the

general funding of the Migratory Bird Act of 1913. A newspaper in Milwaukee even

poked fun at the idea of creating a hospital for ducks (see figure 10). It went so far as to

suggest that

“the annual north and south migration of wildfowl will be replaced by an annual pilgrimage to Utah, where the halt [lame] and blind of duckdom will be cured of the maladies and will leave their crutches and bandages as testimonial piled before the shrine of Saint Houston, secretary of agriculture and patron of wild ducks.”

This new notion of caring for and protecting migratory birds appeared strange and even

comical to the national audience. However, in Utah and surrounding states it remained a

serious matter.124

122Arthur S. Hawkins, “The U.S. Response,” in Flyways: Pioneering Waterfowl Management in North America, ed. A. S. Hawkins, R. C. Hanson, H. K. Nelson, and H. M. Reeves (Washington, DC: U.S. Deptartment of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, 1984), 4–5; Dorsey, Conservation Diplomacy, 198; and George Clinton, “Made Fogies Gasp,” Duchesne County (UT) Newspapers, 28 March 1913. 123 “Will Investigate the Duck Malady,” Ephraim (UT) Enterprise, 23 May 1914; and “Utah State News,” Duchesne (UT) Record, 12 June 1914. 124 Duck Malady in Utah is Still Very Mystifying,” Eastern Utah Advocate, 28 November 1912; “Wild Ducks Killed by Strange Malady,” Spokane (WA) Daily Chronicle, 27 December 1913; “Killed 400,000 Wild Ducks,” Boston (MA) Globe, 28 December 1913; “Will Investigate the Duck Malady,” Ephraim Enterprise, 23 May 1914; “Utah State News,” Duchesne Record, 12 June 1914; and “Uncle Sammy is Going to “Have A Heart” for Real Lame Ducks Now,” Milwaukee (WI) Journal, 3 January 1914. 71

Figure 10. “Uncle Sammy is Going to “Have a Heart” for Real Lame Ducks Now,” Milwaukee (WI) Journal, 3 January 1914.

The Biological Survey elected to station a full-time field biologist at the Bear

River marsh to research the cause of the malady. The young assistant biologist assigned

to Utah was Alexander Wetmore. The Wisconsin native became one of the most

influential and respected ornithologists of the twentieth century, and was widely regarded

as the dean of American ornithologists. Throughout his distinguished career, Dr.

Wetmore served as president of the American Ornithologists’ Union and later was

awarded honorary president for life of the same organization. His professional work led

him to study birds throughout the Americas, resulting in a four-volume treatise entitled

Birds of the Republic of Panama. Eventually Dr. Wetmore was appointed as secretary of the Smithsonian Institution where he remained active until his death.125

125 S. Dillon Ripley and James A. Steed, “Alexander Wetmore: 1886–1978, National Academy of Sciences, 56 (1987): 597; and Henry M. Reeves, “Alexander Wetmore,” in 72 While Wetmore went on to a distinguished career in his field, he was in his

formative days as an ornithologist when he visited the Bear River marsh. He had just

completed his bachelor’s degree at the University of Kansas in 1912 and was in the

process of working on a master’s degree from George Washington University at the time

of his appointment. His experiments there increased the understanding of migratory birds

and played a significant role in the establishment of a refuge in that locality.126

Ornithology in the early twentieth century was relatively new field of scientific

study focused on disease and diet of waterfowl. In the nineteenth century, naturalists that

cataloged new species dominated the field. This process often included observation as well as killing the species for later study. However in the later half of the nineteenth

century, the dire state of birds that drew the attention of biologists to study habitat.

Beginning in 1874, researches became interested in the unchecked mortality of ducks

throughout the nation. Lead poisoning had been killing ducks for decades from the Puget

Sound in Washington to Currituck Sound in North Carolina and Back Bay in Virginia,

and localities in between including Galveston, Texas and the Bear River marsh.

Concurrently, waterfowl throughout the West were perishing from duck sickness,

particularly in California and Utah. The desire to understand and halt disease enabled led

researchers to investigate the connection of environmental conditions to the health of

waterfowl. These early studies focused on diets and food habitats of birds, In the 1910s,

Flyways: Pioneering Waterfowl Management in North America, ed. A. S. Hawkins, R. C. Hanson, H. K. Nelson, H. M. Reeves (Washington, DC: U.S. Department of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, 1984), 75. 126 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake; and Washington Biologists’ Field Club, “Wetmore, Alexander—Biography,” USGS Patuxent Wildlife Research Center http://www.pwrc.usgs.gov/Resshow/Perry/Bios/Wetmorealexander.Htm (accessed 31 March 2015). 73 W. L McAtee investigated waterfowl diets and published findings on food habitats of

birds.127

Wetmore arrived in Utah and began work on July 12, 1914. He was stationed on

the marsh for the summers and falls of 1914 to 1916. During this time, he conducted the

first extensive experiments regarding the disease and the local environment, and took

detailed notes on the feeding, mating, and migratory habits of the waterfowl of the

region. His research required long hours in the field under arduous conditions such as

intense heat, soft marsh bottoms, shallow water, little shade, pesky insects, and the lack of shelter and fresh water.128 In addition to working in Utah, Wetmore gathered

information from other regions in the West that were suffering from similar epidemics.

He visited Tulare Lake and Owens Lake, California in 1914, and in 1915 he conducted

studies in Montana and Idaho.129

While in Utah, Wetmore studied avian disease at the mouths of the Bear, Jordan, and Weber rivers. Additionally he spent time at the Willard Spur, Promontory Point, and

Locomotive Springs. However, due to the large land area and time constraints he spent most of his time on the Duckville Gun Club at Bear River, where after his first year of study, Wetmore constructed a rather primitive headquarters and experiment station on the club’s grounds. The building stood 12 by 16 feet, was well lit, and was screened as protection from flies and mosquitoes. In addition, he built enclosures with fresh water for

127 Eric G. Bolen, “Waterfowl Management: Yesterday and Tomorrow,” Journal of Wildlife Management 64, no. 2 (April 2000): 323–24. 128 Reeves, “Alexander Wetmore,” 75–76. 129 Ibid.; and Henry W. Henshaw to Alexander Wetmore, 18 September 1914, folder 6, box 137, Record Unit 7006, Alexander Wetmore Papers, Smithsonian Institute Archives, Washington, DC. 74 treating sick ducks. This building was a precursor to the Bear River Field Laboratory

that opened on 15 May 1916. As unimpressive as it was, it the field laboratory was one

of the first medical treatment centers for waterfowl in the United States. From this

laboratory, Wetmore conducted his studies on the West’s waterfowl.130

In 1914, after spending months observing diseased birds, he described the basic disease symptoms.

The birds affected first lose the power of flight and are unable to rise in the air . . . The legs next become affected and the power of diving is lost . . . As the birds grow weaker, they crawl out on the mud bars . . . hide in growths of grass or rushes . . . Finally the neck relaxes and the head lies prostrate. If in the water, death comes by drowning, but on land, birds may live for two days or more in this condition.131

At this point he had only witnessed the disease in eight different species of waterfowl, but

by the time he finished his studies Wetmore recorded that the sickness was fatal to at

least thirty species of birds at the Bear River marsh.132

The years 1915 and 1916 proved to be difficult years for studying the disease due to extreme drought conditions. The 1915 season was so dry that the marshes along the

Jordan, Weber, and Bear Rivers were dry mud flats. As a result, the birds that would have normally visited flew to smaller wetlands. In all, it was estimated that not more than five hundred birds died during the season. In 1916, there were no sick birds found

130 Wetmore, Mortality Among Waterfowl, 3–4; Letter to Alexander Wetmore, 10 May 1915, folder 8, box 137, Record 7006, Alexander Wetmore Papers, Smithsonian Institute Archives, Washington, DC; Reeves, “Alexander Wetmore,” 76–77; and “Uncle Sammy is Going to ‘Have a Heart’ for Real Lame Ducks Now,” Milwaukee (WI) Journal, 3 January 1914. 131 Wetmore, Mortality Among Waterfowl, 3–4. 132 Henry W. Henshaw to Alexander Wetmore, 4 June 1915, folder 8, box 137, Record Unit 7006, Alexander Wetmore Papers, Smithsonian Institute Archives, Washington, DC; and Wetmore, Duck Sickness. 4–5. 75 along the Jordan or Weber Rivers; however, at Bear River the sickness occurred 3 July

through 1 October with small numbers of sick birds present.133

Despite the less than optimum conditions for his studies, Wetmore studied all of

the potential causes of the disease. He eliminated bacterial infection due to the number of

species affected, parasitic nematodes, sulphuric acid from smelters near Salt Lake City,

waste water from sugar factories, sewage from surrounding communities, lead poisoning,

and arsenic poisoning.134 Ultimately, he concluded that the disease was a result of alkali

poisoning. Wetmore theorized that increased irrigation over time, but particularly during

drought years, decreased the water supply for the marshes, thereby increasing the

concentration of alkalis and salts in the marshes. He even went so far as to state that he

could predict the location of an outbreak by watching wind blow shallow water over a

dry salt flat. This theory of alkali poisoning was the most prominent and became the official explanation for the malady by 1918, but was later determined incorrect in 1930 by researchers from the Biological Survey who discovered that the disease was actually

Type C Botulism. The researchers were able to reproduce the disease at will in experiments by artificially feeding bacteria from the mud and water of an affected area to waterfowl. While the name and origin of the disease was later changed, the practices developed under the assumption of alkali poisoning were still effective and widely used to cure sick ducks.135

133 Ibid. 134 Reeves, “Alexander Wetmore,” 77. 135 Wetmore, Duck Sickness, 4–5; and U.S. Department of Agriculture, “‘Alkali Poisoning’ of Ducks Found to be a Bacterial Disease,” (Washington, DC: Office of Information Press Service, 26 December 1930). 76 Wetmore’s contributions to the field extended beyond the cause of the malady.

His work contributed to the understanding of how to cure sick birds. As noted, the field

laboratory contained enclosures of fresh water for treating ducks. Wetmore noted that a

sick duck would recuperate after being placed in fresh water. This remedy had a

significant impact on his conclusion about alkali. His ability to make the rather simple

connection between healthy fresh water and migratory birds increased ornithologists’

understanding of the importance of habitat management.

In addition to his treatment of sick ducks, Wetmore went one step beyond his

initial studies and placed leg bands on the cured birds to learn if the treatment was

permanent. The purpose of the bands was to determine how long cured birds survived

until found dead, and the cured birds’ range. Many small groups and individual scientists

had experimented with bird banding, but there was no concerted effort by the federal

government to get involved. Ornithologists had long known John James Audubon as the

“father of bird-banding.” In 1804 Audubon attached silver wire rings to the toes of

phoebe hatchlings, but for approximately eighty years he very few others joined the bird-

banding movement. In 1899, Denmark started banding the legs of white storks and

starlings to determine their migratory pattern. However, bird-banding was a small and

disjointed movement in the United States. The American Ornithologist’s Union (AOU)

created the American Bird Banding Association of New York City on 8 December 1909.

The AOU distributed bands to its members throughout the nation. The group hoped that

their efforts would increase the knowledge of migratory patterns, of which virtually

nothing was known at the time. Prior to bird banding experiments, most knowledge of

bird migration came from a collection of notes marking the existence of a particular bird 77 in a particular location. Wetmore originally intended bird banding as a way to see if

the birds had been cured, however it soon became apparent that this was an effective

method to discover the speed and distance traveled by migratory birds.136

Figure 11. Ducks caught for banding at the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, July 1931, P0020 Box 1, Item 132 Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge Photographs, 1927– 1970. Photo courtesy of Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives.

During his summers spent in the Bear River marsh, Wetmore “placed bands on

1,241 individuals of twenty-three species of marsh birds, the majority being on nine

species of ducks.”137 The initial purpose of this banding program was to measure the

effectiveness of “curing” birds that had suffered from malady through the application of fresh water, and to see if these birds were able to return to their natural lifestyles. Local newspapers instructed citizens throughout the state of Utah to watch for bands on all wild

136 Frederick C. Lincoln, “The History of Bird Banding,” Auk, 38, no. 2 (April 1921): 218; and Brinkley, Quiet World, 88. 137 Behle, Bird Life of Great Salt Lake, 168. 78 birds. The Bureau asked hunters to report back to the agency when, where, and how they killed each banded bird. Roughly twenty to twenty five percent of ducks and geese

bands were returned. Through the recovery of bird bands, Wetmore was able to

determine that fresh water treatment was an effective treatment for the long-term

longevity of sick waterfowl (see figure 11).138

While important to understanding the long-term prospects for treated ducks, the

actual contribution of bird banding was in the establishment and advancement of the

understanding of migratory flyways. Ornithologists originally understood that birds

migrated, but they did not have a clear understanding of how and exactly where. Hunters

recovered Wetmore’s bands throughout nine western states, particularly in Montana, the

Pacific Northwest, and the Central and Owens Valley in California. Through these

recovered bands, Wetmore was able to interpret possible migration routes for waterfowl,

and to show that the Bear River marsh was a major part of an international network of

habitats utilized by migratory waterfowl. He also was able to show that the Bear River

marsh was an essential part of two of the now known major flyways, what have become

known as the Central and Pacific Flyways.139

The 1910s were incredibly important to the continued sustainability of waterfowl

in the American West. The 1910 duck epidemic brought the malady of the birds to local

and national attention. Upon witnessing this horrible sight, sportsmen, politicians, and

138 “Watch for the Bands,” Richfield (UT) Reaper, 14 October 1916; “Watch for Bands on Wild Ducks,” Parowan (UT) Times, 11 October 1916; “Watch for Bands on Wild Ducks,” Box Elder News, 10 October 1916; Donald R. Griffin, Bird Migration (New York: Dover Publications, 1974), 4–6; and Reeves, “Alexander Wetmore,” 77–79. 139 John B. Van Den Akker and Vanez T. Wilson, “Twenty Years of Bird Banding at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah,” Journal of Wildlife Management 13 (October 1949): 359–76. 79 ornithologists searched for the cause and the cure of the disease. The researched completed on the marsh contributed greatly to the field of ornithology, particularly in regards to disease mitigation and migration patterns. The decade began with the disturbing prospect that migratory birds were nearing extinction, but concluded with some certainty surrounding the disease and what to do about it.

80 CHAPTER V

REFUGE ESTABLISHMENT

The 1910s, a decade full of intense debates and confusion surrounding the source of the duck malady, ended with a definite pronouncement from the United States

Biological Survey that alkaline poisoning was responsible for the deaths of millions of waterfowl across the American West.140 Alexander Wetmore’s research laid the groundwork to transition this seemingly local Utah concern into one of national importance. Over the next decade, the push to remedy the situation at Bear River delta took center stage in the nation’s debate over wildlife policy.

National Wildlife Reform

The United States government established its first bird refuges in response to the fear of extinction of species and pressure by sportsmen. With the single phrase of “I so declare it,” President Theodore Roosevelt designated the first national bird refuge at

Pelican Island on March 14, 1903. Pelican Island, a teardrop-shaped island in Florida, was home to the last breeding colony of brown pelicans on Florida’s east coast. This was the first of the Roosevelt administration’s fifty-one refuges established, followed by ten by Howard Taft, and eleven more by Woodrow Wilson. A majority of these refuges were

140 Alexander Wetmore, Mortality Among Waterfowl Around Great Salt Lake, Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1915); and Alexander Wetmore, The Duck Sickness in Utah (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1918).

81 small acreage plots located along the eastern seaboard and the Gulf Coast to protect birds

from overhunting.141

Until 1908, all bird reservations were set aside for non-edible waterfowl.

However, on 8 August 1908, Roosevelt established the Lower Klamath Lake in southern

Oregon and northern California for the migratory waterfowl that utilized the area. The

Lower Klamath Lake was well known throughout the West for the large number of

waterfowl that rested and bred on the lake including Canada geese, white pelicans,

Farallon cormorants, Caspian and Forster’s terns, grebes, and blue herons. Because of the

large numbers of edible waterfowl on the lake, it was a location of prime importance for

market hunters who harvested and shipped approximately 120 tons of waterfowl from the

region in a year.142

The United States Bureau of Biological Survey, a small agency within the

Department of Agriculture, was responsible for the management of these new refuges.

However this agency was prone to chronic underfunding, affecting their ability to

properly manage these new refuges. The Biological Survey had originally been

established to investigate the role of birds in controlling insect pests, and lacked the

capacity to staff and manage these new refuges. At the time that Roosevelt and the

United States Congress placed the agency in charge, it did not have law enforcement

authority or additional allocated funds to pay enforcement personal even if it had the

141 Thomas Gilbert Pearson, Adventures in Bird Protection: An Autobiography (New York: D. Appleton-Century Co., 1937), 236, 257; Douglas Brinkley, The Wilderness Warrior: Theodore Roosevelt and the Crusade for America (New York: Harpercollins, 2009), 492, 472; Reiger, American Sportsmen, 68; and Robert M. Wilson, “Directing the Flow: Migratory Waterfowl, Scale, and Mobility in Western North America” Environmental History 7 (April 2002): 250. 142 Wilson, “Directing the Flow,” 243.

82 authority. This often meant that the Bureau did not have game wardens to manage the

refuges, undertake restoration projects, or guard them from recreational and market

hunters alike.143

The National Association of Audubon Societies (NAAS) recognized the problems

associated with the Bureau’s underfunding, and elected to manage and protect the

national refuges independently. Between 1903 and 1919, the NAAS was the principle

caretaker of the nation’s refuges. For example, when Roosevelt appointed Paul Kroegel as the first national wildlife refuge warden for Pelican Island, the Biological Survey had no money to pay his modest salary of one dollar a month. So, the Audubon Society stepped in and paid his salary. For Pelican Island, the Florida Audubon Society raised

$300 for the warden to build a powerboat, aptly named the Audubon, to better patrol the refuge. Similarly, the NAAS supplied men and boats to patrol and guard Lower Klamath

Lake and the Battledoor Island refuges. The NAAS played a crucial role in the establishment and management of the early refuge system. However, their management and enforcement role changed with the passage of stronger federal bird protection laws.144

Federal Protection

Differing policy objectives, chronic underfunding, and the private-public

partnership to run the refuges characterize the early history of the national refuge system.

However bird protection issues became more and more pressing on the national stage,

143 Ibid., 250; and Wilson, Seeking Refuge, 52. 144 Brinkley, Wilderness Warrior, 493, 497; Pearson, Adventures in Bird Protection, 239, 241, 244.

83 forcing the United States Congress finally to act. Through legislation and judicial

decisions, the federal government integrally involved itself in wild bird protection.

At the turn of the twentieth century, government regulation and management of wildlife and natural resources slowly increased through legislation pursued by bird protection interest groups. The first proposed bird protection laws originated at a meeting of prominent ornithologists in 1883 in New York. The AOU, headed by George Bird

Grinnell, drafted a model bird protection law, then promoted it to individual state legislatures for passage. The AOU model law defined game birds and called for their protection from overhunting. The law also called for a ban on interstate trading of migratory birds. Initially, most states were unreceptive to the idea of state laws regulating migratory birds because of potential constitutional issues over regulation of interstate commerce by restricting export of taken birds. As a result, only a handful of

states passed the AOU model law in the 1880s.145

The constitutional concerns surrounding the AOU model law were erased when

the United States Supreme Court finally heard the issue of game management laws. In

1896, the Court issued the groundbreaking decision of Greer v. Connecticut. State police caught Edgar Greer shipping grouse and quail to other states that he had legally taken in

Connecticut. Connecticut state law forbid such interstate sales of Connecticut game.

Greer argued that according to common law principals, wild game was not property until

captured.146 Therefore, a hunter should be able to use or dispose of the wild game as he or she wished. In upholding state law, the Court noted that states had “the right ‘to

145 Dorsey, Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 175. 146 See Pierson v. Post, 3 Cai. R. 175 (1805) (a Supreme Court of New York decision regarding a disagreement over a dead fox that helped establish the rule of capture in American property law).

84 control and regulate the common property in game’ . . . ‘as a trust for the benefit of the

people.’” Essentially, this meant that states could impose the restrictions and limitations

on the taking of game as well as what citizens could do with that taken game. The Court

reasoned that the state’s duty to preserve a food supply for its residents validated the need

for state regulation, as long as interstate commerce was only indirectly affected. In its

decision, the Court solidified the doctrine of state ownership of wildlife. 147

Following Greer, the AOU renewed their campaign to pass their model law in

legislatures across the nation. Before 1901 only five states had passed effective non-

game bird protection legislation. With the assistance of William Dutcher, Chairman of

the AOU Bird Protection Committee, and Theodore Palmer, Assistant Chief in the

Biological Survey, the AOU pushed for state-by-state protection. By the end of 1901, eleven additional states (bringing the total to sixteen) passed legislation protecting wild

birds, including the critical state of Florida where many birds wintered. Florida’s law protected bird colonies through the allocation of funds to hire wardens.148

While the AOU made progress with passage of the model law in a number of

states, proponents of bird conservation realized that uniform national protection was of

upmost importance to the survival of many bird species. At the turn of the century, game management laws differed from state to state. Each state had different hunting seasons

than its neighbors which meant that some states allowed shooting when species were most vulnerable. Likewise, there was a rivalry between states regarding game laws. If sportsmen in one state took birds during the spring migration, other neighboring states

147 Greer v. Connecticut, 161 U.S. 519, 528–29 (1896). 148 William Reffalt, “History of Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge,” http://www.fws.gov/Refuges/Centennial/Pdf2/Pelicanisland_Reffalt.Pdf (accessed 31 March 2015).

85 wanted that option as well. Inconsistency was the only constant in game management in

the early 1900s, and proponents of bird protection recognized the need for the federal

government to become involved in the protection and regulation of migratory birds.149

The first federal law passed to curtail and regulate wildlife exploitation was the

Lacey Act. In the spring of 1900, Iowa Congressman John Lacey first introduced the bill to the United States House of Representatives. The act made it a federal crime to poach game in one state with the purpose of selling the bounty in another. It also required all packages containing birds to be labeled as to the specifics of the contents and the origin.

This was intended to provide support for and prop up the existing state laws. This act represented the federal government’s introduction to wildlife conservation and regulation, but it proved ineffective due to a lack of enforcement power and the existence of a substantial black market for wild birds for consumption and ornamentation.150

The federal government’s second attempt to protect migratory birds came with

passage of the Weeks-McLean Act of 1913. This act attempted to regulate the killing of

migratory birds within individual states. Specifically, the bill made it illegal to shoot nongame birds, and to shoot game birds during the spring migration. While passage of

149 Hawkins, “The U.S. Response,” 3–4; and Dorsey, Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 170. 150 Lacey Act of 1900, 16 U.S.C. §§ 3371-78 (1900); Ashley R. Fiest, “Defining the Wingspan of the Migratory Treaty Act,” Akron Law Review 47, no. 3 (2014): 591; Rebecca F. Wisch, “Overview of the Lacey Act (16 U.S.C. §§ 3371–3378),” Animal Legal & Historical Center, 2003, https://www.animallaw.info/article/overview-lacey-act- 16-usc-ss-3371-3378 (accessed 23 February 2015); and Meredith Blaydes Lilley and Jeremy Firestone, “Wind Power, Wildlife, and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act: A Way Forward,” Environmental Law 38 (2008): 1178.

86 the law was met with fanfare from bird conservationists, states’ rights advocates

vigorously opposed the law.151

The public debate over the Weeks-McLean Act was intense. In support, William

T. Hornaday of the Audubon Society wrote a letter to the American people warning them that the “enemies of the migratory birds in North America ‘have their knives out, to let the life blood out of the Federal migratory bird law.’” Hornaday claimed that the enemies of the law were “thickest . . . in Missouri, Southern Illinois, Eastern Kansas,

Illinois and Delaware.” According to Hornaday, ninety five percent of Americans saw the benefits of this law, and it was just a few sportsmen from the aforementioned states that he deemed dangerous to the continued existence migratory birds. 152

In response to Hornaday’s remarks, Senator James A. Reed from Missouri publically berated Hornaday on the Senate floor. Reed stated

[e]very man who has dared to consider these questions from the standpoint of the Constitution or from the standpoint of economics has been berated and accused of being the enemy of all bird life.

Reed proclaimed that Hornaday held himself as the “chief apostle of mercy and kindliness, who denounces every man who shoots a duck as a pot-hunter,” but in all reality was a Hessian pot-hunter and nest thief himself. According to Reed, Hornaday’s

151 Act of 4 March 1913, Pub. L. No. 430, ch. 145, 37 Stat. 847 (1913); and Dorsey, Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 185. 152 “Our Birds in Danger,” New York Times, 25 April 1914. See also William T. Hornaday, “The Seamy Side of the Protection of Wild Game,” New York Times, 8 March 1914.

87 book Two Years in the Jungle was the bloodiest record of all time, and that Hornaday had

an “unadulterated lust for blood.”153

The debate over the federal law was colorful and passionate, but the federal courts

ultimately decided the fate of the law. Sportsmen prosecuted under the statute challenged its constitutionality as outside Congressional power and a violation of the Tenth

Amendment. These challenges relied on the principal set forth in Greer v. Connecticut

that states owned migratory birds for the benefit of their people. Therefore, Congress

lacked power to displace state ownership and exercise regulatory power over migratory

birds. By the end of 1915, the states’ rights argument prevailed and two federal district

courts held that the Weeks-McLean Act was unconstitutional.154

Even while the nation debated the constitutionality of the Weeks-McLean Act, proponents of bird protection called for a stronger law in furtherance of an international treaty with Great Britain. Conservationists worked with President Woodrow Wilson to open dialogue with Canadian officials regarding a treaty. After a number of drafts and negotiations, King George V signed the treaty in November 1916 and the US Senate ratified it 29 August 1916. The treaty’s provisions included restrictions to hunting seasons, illegal transport of game, and the importance of insect eating birds. The treaty’s inclusion of both bird and crop protection was important to both nations. In the United

States in particular, the agricultural inclusion made the law appealing as a way to ensure

153 “Reed Assails Hornaday,” New York Times, 24 May 1914; and William T. Hornaday, Two Years in the Jungle, 7th ed. (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1991). 154 See United States v. Shauver, 214 Fed. 154 (E.D. Ark. 1914); and United States v. McCullagh, 221 Fed. 288 (D. Kan. 1915).

88 the national food supply in the midst of world-wide shortages associated with World War

I.155

With the treaty signed and ratified by the Senate, the battle for migratory bird

protection was not yet complete. Unless the United States Congress passed legislation

implementing regulations for migratory birds, the treaty would have been moot.

Congress finally passed legislation known as the Migratory Bird Treaty Act in 1918

(MBTA). Opponents of the law raised the same constitutionality arguments that defeated

the Weeks-McLean Act in 1915. These congressmen believed that states owned the

migratory birds, and that it was a violation of the Tenth Amendment for the federal

government to attempt to regulate protection of wild birds. Conversely, proponents of

the legislation pointed to the immense distance traveled by birds in one day to support

their proposition that no individual state could possibly claim these birds as property.

Another persuasive argument was the economic importance of the birds to agriculture.

One senator went so far as to declare the passage of such a law was a “war measure”

because of its importance to the conservation of the national food supply during wartime.

He pointed out that the annual loss in cereals due to insects was substantial, and that

migratory birds in healthy numbers could curb this loss. Eventually, the conservationists’

arguments won the day.156

155 “Defends Federal Bird Law,” New York Times, 14 November 1913; Dorsey, Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 194–95; “Safety for the Birds,” New York Times, 5 December 1916; and “Saving the Birds,” New York Times, 2 September 1916. For a detailed discussion of the diplomatic process behind the signing of the treaty, see Dorsey, “Coordinating Science, Diplomacy, and Public Relations, 1913–1916,” in Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy, 194–214. For an analysis of the interactions between agriculture and migratory birds, see Wilson, Seeking Refuge. 156 Migratory Bird Treaty Act, 16 U.S.C. §§ 703–712; “To Give the Birds Real Protection,” New York Times, 26 January 1917; “Win Fight To Save Birds,” New York

89 Congress enacted the MBTA to implement the bird treaty between the United

States and Canada protecting North American and arctic migratory birds. Among its

major provision, the MBTA prohibited various acts involving the taking or possession of

migratory birds, bird parts, nests, or eggs. Additionally, the MBTA authorized the

Secretary of the Interior to promulgate regulations to allow some hunting or possession of

migratory birds, and provided penalties for violation of the MBTA, its underlying

treaties, or the regulations promulgated thereunder. With these enforcement mechanisms

established, and congressionally allocated funds for enforcement, the federal government

finally had the authority and the capacity to regulate migratory birds.157

Just as was the case with prior bird protection laws, sportsmen and states’ rights

proponents challenged the MBTA. However, this time their challenges proved futile. In

1920, the United States Supreme Court upheld the MBTA as a valid exercise of

congressional power.158 The Court ruled that the act was in concert with Congress’

power to make all laws necessary and proper for carrying into execution the federal

government’s treaty-making powers. Just as in prior cases, Missouri raised the states’

rights argument that the law constituted an unconstitutional interference with the reserved

rights of states, however the Court rejected this argument outright. Justice Oliver

Wendell Holmes, Jr., wrote that it was not enough that Missouri merely referred to the

Times, 7 June 1918; “Congress Debates Bird-Saving Bill,” New York Times, 14 July 1918. For a discussion on the importance of insectivorous birds to the early conservation movement, see Warren, The Hunter’s Game, 25–26. 157 Migratory Bird Treaty Act, 16 U.S.C. §§ 703–712; and “New Game Bird Law Bars Pot Hunting,” New York Times, 18 August 1918. 158 Missouri v. Holland, 252 U.S. 416 (1920).

90 Tenth Amendment of the United States Constitution,159 particularly because Article II of

the Constitution delegates the power to make treaties expressly to the federal

government.160 Additionally, Holmes noted that treaties made under the authority of the

United States, along with the Constitution and laws of the United States made in

pursuance thereof, are the supreme law of the land.161 Holmes rejected Missouri’s claim that migratory birds were owned by the states in their sovereign capacity for the benefit of their people and that states therefore had exclusive regulatory authority based upon the assertion of title.162 Finally, of upmost importance, Holmes declared that the protection

of migratory birds was “a national interest of very nearly the first magnitude.”163

The passage of the MBTA, and the Supreme Court’s subsequent upholding, firmly established that the protection and regulation of migratory birds was a national issue and within federal jurisdiction. Following this decision, the Bureau of Biological

Survey became more involved with the management of migratory birds, and pushed for the establishment of additional refuges in midwestern and western states. Conservation groups like the Izaak Walton League turned their attention to working with Congress to further their conservation agendas and ultimately pass federal environmental legislation.

Izaak Walton League

On 14 January 1922, fifty-four fishing enthusiasts met to discuss the deteriorating conditions of America’s premier fishing streams. The culprits, according to those in

159 U.S. Const., amend. X (reserving to the states the powers not delegated to the federal government). 160 U.S. Const., art. II, § 2. 161 U.S. Const., art. VI. 162 Missouri v. Holland, 252 U.S. 416 (1920). 163 “Migratory Bird Law Upheld,” New York Times, 20 April 1920.

91 attendance, were uncontrolled industrial discharges, raw sewage, and soil erosion. The

group formed an organization to improve the conditions of America’s streams, forests,

wetlands, and wilderness areas, naming it after the seventeenth-century English writer

and angler Izaak Walton.164

Founded by anglers concerned about their local environment, the League soon

took on a national platform. In 1923, the League successfully campaigned to keep

Superior National Forest in Minnesota roadless. Over the rest of the decade, the League

successfully lobbied for the passage of the Black Bass Act of 1926, worked to ensure the

continued existence of the National Elk Refuge north of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and

fought against river and stream pollution throughout much of the nation.165

The League focused on wetland drainage in the Midwest. Wetlands were a

casualty of “progress.” Farmers, with the federal government’s approval drained a majority of wetlands for agriculture. In 1923, the Army Corps of Engineers approved a

drainage plan for the Winneshick Bottoms, and the League was determined to stop what

they proclaimed was the “drainage crime of the century.” The Winneshick Bottoms,

15,000 acres located along the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River, was a favorite

hunting and fishing destination. Will Dilg, the League’s founder and first president,

proclaimed that he had visited the area on average sixty days a year for twenty years at

164 Dawn Merritt, “The Roaring 20s: A Call to Action,” Outdoor America 77, no. 1 (Winter 2012): 25. 165 Ibid., 26–32; “Jackson Hole,” New York Times, 10 May 1925; “Wyoming Elk Land Offer is Approved,” Ogden (UT) Standard, 16 February 1927; and “Plans Laid to Preserve Elk,” Salt Lake Telegram, 5 March 1927.

92 the time of the drainage proposal. Upon hearing of the Corps’ approval of the plan, the

League engaged in a campaign to save the wetlands from destruction.166

The League lobbied Congress to preserve the river bottoms through the creation of the Upper Mississippi River National Wildlife and Fish Refuge. Representative Harry

Hawes of Missouri and Senator Medill McCormick of Illinois sponsored legislation that called for the creation of a three hundred square mile national refuge. McCormick wrote a letter of introduction for Dilg to President Calvin Coolidge. After a forty minute meeting, Coolidge stated that he supported “any legislation” the League wanted. Dilg turned his attention to working with Congress, League member and Commerce Secretary

Herbert Hoover to draft a bill. Within a year, Congress passed the legislation to establish the Upper Mississippi River National Wildlife and Fish Refuge.167

The success of the League can be attributed to a large membership base, political

allies, and a zealous commitment to the cause of conservation. These factors were

instrumental in foundation of the League, and became the strategy for future campaigns.

A large and influential membership was one of the main goals of the early league.

Leaders believed that every state should have a chapter. Just two years after its founding,

the League had more than 100,000 members, and by 1928 it had over 175,000 members

in forty states. Compared to other conservation organizations at the time, the League was

166 Vileisis, Discovering the Unknown Landscape, 3; “Urges Fostering of the Wild Fowl: Indiscriminate Drainage Would Rob them of Breeding Places, Says E. W. Nelson,” New York Times, 28 November 1920; Merritt, “Roaring 20s,” 27; Will Dilg, “The Drainage Crime of a Century,” Izaak Walton League Monthly 1, no. 11 (July 1923): 601, box 15, ff23, CONS41, The Izaak Walton League of America Records, Conservation Collection, The Denver Public Library (hereafter cited as Izaak Walton League Records); and “A Call to Anglers,” New York Times, 5 August 1923. 167 Merritt, “Roaring 20s,” 27–28; “Conservation of Wild Life Held Pressing Need,” Salt Lake Telegram, 6 November 1923; and “Sportsmen Start Drive for Big Game Preserve,” Salt Lake Telegram, 7 November 1923.

93 incredibly large. In 1924, the Sierra Club, American Game Protective Association, and

the NAAS each had a membership of 7,000 or less. The League’s leadership frequently

pointed to the importance of having a large voting membership with the reminder that

“fish and game cannot vote.”168

Along with sheer numbers, the League benefited from influential political allies

and nationally important members. The League had its fair share of high-ranking

officials amongst its ranks, men who were instrumental in implementing the League’s

ideas on a national scale. The League had supporters in the United States Congress, such

as Representative Harry Hawes of Missouri, Senator Medill McCormick of Illinois (who

had introduced Dilg to Coolidge), and Senator Lawrence C. Phipps of Colorado. Other

influential supporters in the 1920s and 1930s included Judge Jacob M. Dickerson, former

Secretary of War under President Taft; Seth E. Gordon, a leading game commissioner and future President of the American Game Association; Herbert Hoover, Commerce

Secretary and future President of the United States; and Jay “Ding” Darling, cartoonist

and future Chief of the Biological Survey (see figure 12). The League’s connections to

high-ranking officials helped make it a leading voice for conservation.169

168 Phillip V. Scarpino, Great River: An Environmental History of the Upper Mississippi, 1890–1950 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1985), 119. “Izaak Walton League Wants Million Members,” Salt Lake Telegram, 19 April 1928; Harold Trowbridge Pulsted, “The Vested Right to do Wrong,” Outdoor America 2, no. 5 (December 1923): 204, box 15, ff23, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; “Izaak Walton League of America Chapter Organized at Marysvale,” Piute County (UT) News, 24 July 1925; and “Game Protective League to Have Chapter in S.L.,” Salt Lake Telegram, 12 February 1925. 169 Scarpino, Great River, 133; Merritt, “Roaring 20s,” 27–28; “Seth E. Gordon— Member California All State Chapter,” box3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; “Original Editorial Staff, 1922,” box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; “J. N. Darling (‘Ding’) Named Chief of the Biological Survey,” Washington

Figure. 12. Statement from then Commerce Secretary Herbert Hoover endorsing the League’s cause. (Outdoor America 5, no. 7 (February 1927): 5, box 15, ff23, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records.)

Lastly, and quite possibly most importantly for the success of the League, was its zealous commitment to the conservation cause. To League members, the protection of nature was beyond merely securing the future of their favorite hunting and fishing spots.

To some, this was a personal religious and spiritual issue. So they went forth on an evangelical campaign to save their beloved wild lands as missionaries for conservation.

Early members of the League traveled thousands of miles from Chicago to neighboring communities to drum up support for the League. Dr. Preston Bradley put it eloquently on

January 14, 1922: “[f]rom this day I announce myself a volunteer missionary for this great cause which comes to me as a call to arms.” These men felt they were closer to

God in nature, and protecting God’s work was their mission170

Post, 11 March 1934, box 10, ff31, CONS47, Ira N. Gabrielson, Wildlife Management Institute Papers, Conservation Collection, The Denver Public Library, 170 “Biography of Dr. Preston Bradley,” box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; and Scarpino, Great River, 130.

Figure. 13. Cartoon depicting the Izaak Walton League fighting against industrial polluters. (Outdoor America 3, no. 4 (November 1924): 11, box 15, ff23, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records.)

To other members, this was a war for the future America. They believed that materialism and increased industrialization would destroy the environment they loved.

Harold Trowbridge Pulsted urged readers of Outdoor America to stand up to the polluters who felt that they had a “vested right to destroy the health, property, and happiness of others.” This approach to conservation portrayed this debate as a conflict between the general population and wealthy capitalists. In political cartoons from Outdoor America, cartoonists often depicted polluters as large greedy and materialistic villains out to destroy America, and the League was the hero. To many members, this war mentality was essential in order to defend and protect the wilderness (see figure 13).171

171 Pulsted, “The Vested Right To Do Wrong,” box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; and Charles W. Folds, “National Pollution War Opens,” Outdoor

96 Whether they used religious or wartime rhetoric, League success came down to

framing the issues in terms of public health and a loss of the American way of life they

knew and loved. The League argued that pollution was “long past the question of fishing

or more fish. It has become a question of public health and whether we are to allow

further corruption of our lakes and streams to continue as a detriment to our well being.”

By framing the issue as one of public health and safety, they took their cause to all of

America, not just sportsmen. In this way, they enlisted the support of newly enfranchised

women and gained support from the general populace—something that separated them

from other groups that specialized in conservation of game for scientific research or merely sport.172

Building on the message that conservation impacted all Americans, the League

pushed the idea that conservation was needed to restore essential American values. To

members, hunting and fishing was part of the American narrative. For years, the prospect

of going west and making oneself into a strong self-supported and independent person

was a foundational American myth. One of the great conservationists, Theodore

Roosevelt, credited his values and masculinity and success to his time in the Badlands of

North Dakota. There, he hunted, fished, and worked with the land. However, by the turn

of the twentieth century people began to worry that this was no longer an option. The

America 5, no. 4 (November 1926): 5–6, box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records. 172 Folds, “National Pollution War Opens,” 5–6, box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records; and M. D. Hart, “Pollution of Inland Streams,” Outdoor America 2, no. 5 (December 1923): 76, box 3, ff12, CONS41, Izaak Walton League Records.

97 frontier had officially closed, and the remaining places for one to find solitude in nature

were rapidly diminishing.173

The League’s members saw this way of life and national mythology as a cause

worth fighting for. Their time in nature instilled values in them that they could only get

from those experiences. The streams where they grew up fishing were rapidly declining

in quality from urban and industrial pollution. The wetlands where they hunted were

victims of flood control and industrial agriculture. Many of these cherished localities

were gone all together due in part to industrialization and the pollution associated with it.

Members were concerned that their own children would never be able to experience the

great outdoors, and without these experiences would not know what being an American

meant. Therefore, the League made it a priority to maintain and restore the way of life

they defined as genuinely and unquestionably American.

With this conservation strategy in hand, the League turned its attention to the

plight of western ducks in 1927. This campaign fit perfectly into the narrative that they

had spun since the organization’s founding. First, in the minds of the League,

industrialization poisoned water and made it uninhabitable for waterfowl, just as it had in

the East and Midwest. This unhealthy landscape was a public health concern, both

173 George P. Marsh, Man and Nature: Or, Physical Geography as Modified by Human Action, (1864; repr., Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1964); Theodore Roosevelt, Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail (1901; repr., Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 1983); Theodore Roosevelt, Theodore Roosevelt: An Autobiography (New York: Macmillan Company, 1913), 103–43; and Frederick Jackson Turner, Rereading Frederick Jackson Turner: “The Significance of the Frontier in American History”, and Other Essays, with commentary by John Mack Faragher (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998).

98 locally and nationally. Beyond public health, the loss of migratory birds in the West

meant the loss of the opportunity to hunt, an American tradition going back generations.

This western frontier experience was a common thread in the League’s narrative on what it meant to be an American. So, they set out to save the ducks, and they fixed their attention on the Bear River marsh.

Campaign to Protect the Bear River Marsh

The idea of establishing some sort of refuge at the Bear River marsh had been around since the early 1920s. After the devastating outbreaks of disease in prior years,

local private duck clubs took matters into their own hands. The Chesapeake Duck Club and the Bear River Duck Club, exclusive organizations with membership comprised mostly of prominent individuals from across the nation, took it upon themselves to create private refuges to ensure that their members had ample waterfowl for shooting. They managed water levels through a series of dams and dikes that impounded fresh water for use in maintaining healthy wetlands. Through hydrological engineering and the

construction of dams, the clubs “fixed” the problem in the minds of many policy leaders.

For example, the Bear River Duck Club impounded water on an area that encompassed

approximately 8,000 acres of fresh water. Just beyond the borders of the club existed the

treacherous and deadly conditions that killed millions of waterfowl. These private lakes

ensured the pleasure of a select few individuals, but they did not solve the actual problem

facing the marsh as a whole.174

174 “Articles of Incorporation of the Chesapeake Duck Club,” 16 August 1907, Chesapeake Duck Club Collection, 1903–1975, MSSB-211, folder 1, box 1, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, Utah; Migratory Bird Refuge, Bear River Bay, Utah,

99 Beginning in 1921, Utah State Game and Fish Commissioner David H. Madsen proposed the establishment of a large public shooting grounds at the marsh. Madsen looked to the private clubs for his inspiration for impounding water for the entire marsh.

Madsen drafted a proposal to construct a fourteen-mile dam across the mouth of the Bear

River in order to freshen up approximately 150 square miles of marshland. Madsen’s plan was to use a dam and a constructed environment to provide a safe and healthy place for migratory birds. However, he did not believe that this was an endeavor that the state of Utah should or could bear the responsibility for. Therefore, for several years, Madsen dedicated much of his time as commissioner to campaigning for the establishment of a national refuge at the Bear River delta.175

Madsen spread his message by traveling throughout the nation to solicit support.

He presented his idea in a vivid and urgent way by painting the picture of the disastrous conditions of waterfowl on the marsh.

If you were to take all the birds shot in a season and strew them over five miles of shore line on the marsh, they would not be nearly so thick on that area as the dead and dying that lie on the 150 mile or more of the meandering shore line around the bay, in tulle islands, small lakes, etc. Can you imagine walking along a shore line for twenty-five miles and passing an average of ten birds every time you step—fifty birds every rod? Imagine you go into a small lake recently flooded and count 4800 teal, pintail and shovelers that you are certain have died within forty- eight hours? And this two weeks before the opening of the shooting season.

Hearings on S. 5454, Before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry, 69th Cong. 6 (1927) (statement of Senator Lawrence C. Phipps, CO); “Minutes of the Meeting of the Directors of the Chesapeake Duck Club,” 4 August 1916, Chesapeake Duck Club Collection Minutes of Meetings, Articles of Incorporation, Receipts, Reports, etc. 1907– 1934, MSSB-21, box 2, folder 1, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, Utah. 175 “14-Mile Dike Now Planned Across Lake,” Box Elder News (Brigham City, UT), 29 October 1926.

100 Madsen further explained that while he knew when the disease (alkali poisoning) was

going to appear and what it was, there was nothing that he and his colleagues could do.

The only hope that remained was public policy action and the establishment of a large national public shooting ground. He urged his fellow conservationists to help save the ducks because this was not just Utah’s problem, but also the nation’s.176

Between 1921 and 1925, Madsen’s argument matured and became more focused.

He continued to stress the fact that the birds being killed by disease in Utah far

outnumbered those taken for game in the state. He also used bird banding reports to his

advantage. Madsen frequently explained that the birds that rested, fed, and bred at Bear

River were the same birds found later in most of the other western states. As of the early

1920s, birds banded in Utah had been found in eleven other states. This fact helped

Madsen make it clear to other commissioners and conservationists that the continued

existence of migratory birds in the West was dependent on a healthy Bear River bay, and

that this could not happen until the dam and dikes were constructed. He then urged his

fellow conservationists to take a stand by supporting his legislation and prevent this

tragedy through the establishment of a federal refuge. He argued it was “criminal on the

part of those concerned with wild life [sic] to allow disease to run rampant, almost any

plague can be stopped.”177

In 1925, support for Madsen’s bill materialized. He attended and presented at a

convention of game commissioners, conservationists, and sportsmen in Denver in August

176 “Utah’s Commissioner Pays Tribute to Sports for Game Protection,” Salt Lake Telegram, 12 December 1921: and “Public Hunting Ground Planned,” Salt Lake Telegram, 4 December 1921. 177 “Madsen Pushes New Game Bill,” Box Elder News, 25 September 1925; “Utah Indorsed as Duck Area,” Box Elder News, 22 December 1925; and “Bear River Bay Problem to be Discussed,” Box Elder News, 30 November 1926.

101 of that year. Leaders from the Izaak Walton League, National Audubon Society,

American Game Protective Association, Western Association of State Game

Commissioners, and International Association of State Game, Fish and Conservation

Commissions all joined together and endorsed Madsen’s plan. These conservation organizations established a committee with instructions to see that the bill became law in the following Congressional session. The committee consisted of Madsen; W. C. Adams,

Massachusetts Game Commissioner; one representative from the Audubon Society; one representative from the Izaak Walton League; and one representative from the United

State Biological Survey. The hope was that the committee would have the bill ready for

Utah Senator Reed Smoot to introduce in 1926, but that did not materialize because of other competing conservation bills.178

Over the next couple of years, Madsen continued his push for a refuge to no avail.

He continued on his speaking tour (visiting Spokane, Denver, Chicago, Omaha, New

York City, and Washington, D.C. among other cities), usually on behalf of the Izaak

Walton League. In each location he had a captive and supportive audience. The Bureau

of Biological Survey, the federal agency responsible for migratory birds under the

MBTA, and conservation groups across the nation endorsed Madsen’s plan, but that support was insufficient to get a bill through Congress.179

The following year, the bill received much needed support from the American

Game Protection Association, a sportsmen’s group that raised funds to study the

178 “Madsen Bill Favored at Denver Convention,” Salt Lake Telegram, 28 August1925; and Merritt, “Roaring 20s: A Call To Action,” 33. 179 “Utah Indorsed as Duck Area,” Box Elder News, 22 December 1925; “Reclamation of Bear River Bay Marsh is Urged,” Box Elder News, 11 December 1925; “Bear River Bay Problem to be Discussed,” Box Elder News, 30 November 1926.

102 practicality and potential success of the proposed refuge. The privately funded study,

completed by a local engineer, established that the refuge levee was possible, and

importantly that there was enough water available for flooding over 44,000 acres of

marshland through the construction of a water management system consisting of levees,

canals, and gates. In addition to the commissioned study, the League decided to become

more active in the protection of wild birds west of the Mississippi River.180

The League’s prior campaigns had proven quite successful. Now they turned

their full attention to western ducks, utilizing their established strategy for action: first

increase membership locally, second frame this as a larger national issue, and third make

this an issue about the Western spirit and what it meant to be American. On 31 October

1927, the League announced its campaign from a Denver radio station. Their appeal was

to all “Westerners to enlist on the side of humanity and of the future of Western duck

shooting.” They warned of impending extinction of western wild birds and the life

associated with them.181

The League completely engaged in the campaign to save Western ducks.

Prominent League members traveled to Utah to explain the League’s intentions, start

chapters, and enlist members. The League believed they could only be successful once

they had widespread support from local residents. Once they had a base of local members, the League began to frame the issue in two ways. The first was that this was a bigger issue than just a Utah hunter not being able to hunt for birds anymore. Just as

180 Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge: Hearings on S. 703 and S. 1272, Before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry, 70th Cong. 5 (1928) (statement of Paul G. Redington, Chief of the Bureau of Biological Survey). 181 “Izaak Walton League Comes to Rescue of Western Ducks,” Parowan (UT) Times, 2 November 1927.

103 Madsen had done, the League used bird-banding studies to prove scientifically that the

heath of the marsh was vital to western states, that it impacted every citizen of the

nation.182 Second, the League framed the issue as one of masculinity and what it meant

to be western and therefore American. Judge Jacob F. Dickinson, former Secretary of

War and president of the League, stressed that the “splendid character of Western

manhood, typical of the best American standard, is built on outdoor pursuits, and these

must be preserved.” From there, the League used their political connections to turn their plans into federal law.183

The League’s campaign to save the ducks was a much-welcomed development in

the West. Their reputation preceded them. Conservation and game commissioners were

instantly enthusiastic. Upon hearing the news, Madsen urged American sportsmen to

unite with all the other conservation groups and the League to support the refuge bill’s

passage. Thomas N. Marlowe, chairman of the Montana Game and Fish Commission,

stated that Montana lent its support, and likely the support of their congressional

delegation. Similarly, E.L. Perry, New Mexico State Game and Fish Warden, said “[i]t is

gratifying to know that the League is swinging its tremendous weight into the fight on the

side of the ducks. It has been my observation that things usually begin to happen when

the League rolls up its sleeves and begins to look for the best place to hit.” Overall, the

182 “National League Would Save Ducks,” Gunnison Valley (UT) News, 3 November 1927; “National Clubs to Save Ducks,” Manti (UT) Messenger, 4 November 1927; “Izaak Walton League Active in the West,” Roosevelt (UT) Standard, 17 November 1927; and “Save the Ducks,” Iron County (UT) Record, 16 December 1927. 183 “Izaak Walton League Comes to Rescue of Western Ducks,” Parowan Times, 2 November 1927; “National League Would Save Ducks,” Gunnison Valley News, 3 November 1927; “National Clubs to Save Ducks,” Manti Messenger, 4 November 1927; “Izaak Walton League Active in the West,” Roosevelt Standard, 17 November 1927; and “Save the Ducks,” Iron County Record, 16 December 1927.

104 response from western sportsmen was enthusiastic to the news of the League’s campaign.

This renewed passion in the campaign was needed to get Congress to act.184

However, unlike their previous campaigns, the League received some resistance

with their support of the refuge bill. Initially, the League proposed that a fund be set up

to purchase land for refuges nationwide. The source of this fund was to come from

redirecting a ten percent federal excise tax on firearms and ammunition, which averaged

approximately $3.5 million per year. However, many members of Congress wanted to

eliminate the tax altogether, and were unwilling at the time to appropriate money from

the general fund to purchase refuge land. Next, the League and other conservation

groups proposed to fund refuges through a $1 federal hunting license. This too was

unpopular because sportsmen already had to pay for a state license and consequently

many members of Congress opposed the idea of a tax increase to support this bill.185

With the debate over the general funding mechanism for a nationwide refuge bill, members of the League and the U.S. Biological Survey decided to move forward with an individual bill for Bear River bay. Senator William H. King of Utah first introduced a bill for establishment of the refuge in 1926. However, this bill did not make it to a vote.

The following year, Senator Lawrence C. Phipps of Colorado introduced a nearly

184 “Remedial Bills Asked by Madsen,” Gunnison Valley News, 10 November 1927; and “Club Wars Against Alkali Poisoning of the Game Birds,” Richfield (UT) Reaper, 17 November 1927. 185 Merritt, “Roaring 20s,” 33. The excise tax on firearms and ammunition was never repealed and continues to be in effect today. The Pittman-Robertson Wildlife Restoration Act of 1937 (16 U.S.C. §§ 669–669k) eventually directed the excise tax proceeds to fund grants to states and territories for projects to benefit wildlife resources and to conduct programs for hunter education. See M. Lynne Corn and Jane G. Gravalle, “Guns, Excise Tax, and Wildlife Restoration,” (CRS Report No. R42992) (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2013), 1, http://fas.org/sgp/crs/misc/R42992.pdf (accessed 31 March 2015).

105 identical bill to Congress. Phipps was an avid hunter of waterfowl, a proponent of the

Izaak Walton League, and had spent a fair amount of time at the Bear River marshes.

Due to the urgency to pass a bill to protect Bear River marsh, Phipps decided to submit a

bill without the Utah Senate delegation. Conservation groups and game and fish

commissioners widely supported Phipps’ 1927 bill, with many writing to Congress for

the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry Hearings professing their support. However,

Phipp’s bill met the same fate as King’s and never made it to vote prior to the end of the

congressional session. The following year both Senator Kings and Phipps each

sponsored their own bill for Bear River delta’s protection.186

In 1928, both pieces of sponsored legislation to protect this area ran into some opposition from those who were confused about how these bills interacted with South

Dakota Senator Peter Norbeck’s Migratory Bird Conservation bill that was also being

debated. Others felt that there was no need for this refuge since it did not impact the birds in their home jurisdictions. But the pressing need for the refuge as explained by

conservation groups, led by the League and the Biological Survey, ended up winning the

day over politics. Proponents argued that while there were many other areas worthy of

protection, Bear River marsh was the most important and the most endangered. At the

congressional hearings, members of Congress and the Biological Survey stressed the

importance of the Bear River bay to the nation. They pointed to the extensive bird

banding studies that indicated that if this area were lost, a large majority of birds in the

West would be gone as well. Additionally, the two senators argued that the establishment

186 Migratory Bird Refuge, Bear River Bay, Utah: Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge: Hearings on S. 703 and S. 1272, Before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry, 70th Cong. (1928).

106 of this refuge was important to ensuring that the United States fulfilled its treaty obligations under the Migratory Bird Treaty of 1916. By establishing this refuge,

Congress would be protecting an international resource.187

Agency officials and congressmen spoke frequently of the value of Alexander

Wetmore’s research at Bear River. Throughout the hearings, they referred to migration patterns and bird banding. They noted that these were a distinct group of birds from those in the East, and that birds banded on the marsh were found in sixteen western states. Additionally, all the people who testified before Congress argued that the massive bird dieoffs were the result of alkali poisoning, and that the research conducted by

Wetmore informed the agency that the best way to protect the birds was to provide fresh water.188

The main difference between the two separate bills introduced in 1928 by

Senators King and Phipps was the amount of land to be flooded and protected and the amount of money allocated. King’s bill called for $500,000 for the protection of approximately 100,000 acres, while Phipp’s bill asked for $350,000 for approximately

45,000 acres, providing that no more than forty percent be open for shooting. In the end,

Phipp’s smaller bill made it through committee and passed both the House and the

Senate. On 28 April 1928, President Calvin Coolidge signed the bill into law.189

187 Ibid. 188 Ibid. 189 Ibid.; Committee on Agriculture and Forestry, Bear River Bay Migratory-Bird Refuge, S. Rep. No. 310 (1928); and “Coolidge Signs Bill for Utah Bird Refuge,” Southeastern Missourian (Cape Giradeau, MO), 28 April 1924.

107

Figure 14. Map of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge showing extent of surveys in 1928, Salt Lake Tribune, 16 December 1928, Vanez T. Wilson, Photograph Collection, 1900–1975, P0468, box II, Scrapbook II. Map courtesy of Utah State University, Merrill- Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives.

With the bill signed into law, all that remained was for an exchange of land between the state of Utah and the United States.190 Utah and the federal government owned most of the land where the refuge was to be situated. In fact, the Utah State

Legislature passed a bill calling for cooperation with the federal government regarding the land transfer prior to passage of the federal law.191 Refuge construction went quickly.

The main development work, including land acquisition, dikes, and water control

190 In recent years the existence of a land exchange and an argument over ownership of the land under the refuge has come into question. For more on this land exchange issue, see Erin Mcauley, “Utah Says U.S. Has No Right to Lake Land,” Courthouse News Service, Environmental Law Review, 28 April 2012, http://www.cnsenvironmentallaw.com/2012/04/26/757.Htm (accessed 10 May 2015). 191 Migratory Bird Refuge, Bear River Bay, Utah: Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge: Hearings on S. 703 and S. 1272, Before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry, 70th Cong. (1928); and Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, 16 U.S.C. § 690 (1928).

108 structures were completed by 1931, and the area was officially opened in 1932.

Construction of refuge buildings was not completed until 1936.192

The path to establishment of the refuge was long and took the cooperative efforts

of many groups and individuals. The legal framework had to be laid by the passage of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and subsequent judicial decisions. Once it became clear that migratory birds were under the jurisdiction of the United States, the work to establish the refuge began. Local advocates needed the assistance of a large national conservation group like the Izaak Walton League to use its muscle and political influence to highlight the national and international significance of the waterfowl at the Bear River marshes.

Without the involvement of people throughout the nation and the establishment of federal game laws, the refuge area would likely be dry and barren today, and western migratory birds would be near extinction or a rare sight in Utah.

192 “Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge – Brigham, Utah: General Information For Visitors,” 1950–1959 Research for Articles Written—Commemorative Events and Anniversaries on Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge—1951 Twentieth Century, box 4, folder 15, Jack Goodman Papers, AACN 1521, J. Willard Marriot Library, Special Collections, University Of Utah, Salt Lake City, Utah.

109 CHAPTER VI

CONCLUSION

The Bear River marsh, once expansive, is much smaller in total acreage than when Frémont and his crew visited in 1847. Today the marsh’s existence depends on human management. Refuge employees create, protect, and manage approximately

41,000 acres of fresh water wetlands. Managers manipulate water levels in these wetlands through a series of floods and drawdowns to provide habitat for countless birds annually. The natural free forming marsh of the past no longer remains. Humans now determine water availability, and subsequently the marsh’s existence193

While the marsh’s character has changed dramatically since the 1800s, it still is ecologically rich and important to the Pacific and Central flyways. Because of this human manipulation, the refuge still serves as a staging area for migratory waterfowl with numerous ducks (500,000) and Canada geese (5,000) found on the refuge each fall.

Additionally, nearly seventy-five percent of the western population of tundra swans

(30,000) uses the marsh for fall staging. The marsh is an integral component to the continued existence of these wild fowl. These large numbers of waterfowl continue to draw hunters to the marsh each fall. Many of the duck clubs are still in operation and thriving, as are the formal and informal public shooting grounds. The duck clubs’

193 Downard, Endter-Wada, and Kettering, “Adaptive Wetland Management,” 23; Downard and Endter-Wada, “Keeping Wetlands Wet in the Western United States,” 394– 406; and Welsh et al., “Developing Adaptive Capacity,” 7.

110 continued existence in the marsh speaks to the richness of bird hunting in the area, and

each helps maintain the marsh through their own water manipulations.194

The Bear River marsh’s health over the twentieth century has been critical to the bird populations of the West, and its continued success will be crucial in the future.

However, this future is dependent on a number of factors that will impact how the marsh

is managed, and even determine its existence. Two issues of great importance to the

marsh’s future are continued population growth and global climate change.

The state of Utah, one of the fastest growing in the country at an annual rate of

1.6 percent, is likely to look to the Bear River to meet its water needs. Utah’s population

is projected to reach almost six million residents by 2060. Cache Valley, which

comprises much of the Bear River watershed, is projected to increase to 233,442 in 2040

and to 331,594 people by 2060. The state already intends to tap the Bear River to meet

the demand that will accompany this population growth. 195

In 1991, Utah passed the Bear River Development Act, directing the Utah

Division of Water Resources to develop the surface waters of the Bear and its tributaries

through planning, construction, and operation of reservoirs and other associated infrastructure.196 The Act allocates 220,000 acre-feet a year to the development, and

194 For more on the history of private duck clubs and water management along the Great Salt Lake, see Jack Ray, “Great Salt Lake Cuck Club History” (unpublished manuscript, 20 March 2015), pdf. 195 Division of Water Resources, “Utah’s Water Resources: Planning for the Future,” http://www.water.utah.gov/waterplan/SWP_pff.pdf (accessed 23 March 2015); Envision Cache Valley, “Final Report & Toolkit,” 7, http://envisionutah.net/projects/project- archive/item/download/94_383c1c7e7f75c04aa9029a0b7bd9d5a5 (accessed 16 March 2015); and Lee Davidson, “Utah Population Hits 2.9 Million as Second-Fastest Growing State,” Salt Lake Tribune, 30 December 2013. 196 Utah Code Ann. §§ 73-26-101 to 73-26-507 (2007).

111 divides the water as follows: Salt Lake County Conservancy District and Weber Basin

Water Conservancy District each may purchase 50,000 acre-feet per year; Cache County

and the Bear River Water Conservancy District may purchase up to 60,000 acre-feet a

year. In order to provide for the water needs of the state, the Division of Water

Resources has proposed to: (1) modify the existing operation of Willard Bay Reservoir;

(2) connected the Bear River with a pipeline and/or canal to Willard Bay along the Great

Salt Lake; (3) construct conveyance and treatment facilities to deliver water from Willard

Bay to the Wasatch Front; and (4) construct a dam in the Bear River Basin to store and

manage the water. The State of Utah has wavered on implementing this plan for years,

but the legislature recently reopened the idea of a diversion. Increased allocation and water use for a growing population will add pressure to an already stressed watershed.197

Climate change will also pose a serious risk to the health of the refuge. Changes associated with climate change will exacerbate current stresses on water resources from population growth and economic and land use-change. Glaciers and snowpack will be more susceptible to evapotranspiration (combination of water loss from the soil through evaporation and from the plant through transpiration), and increased runoff because of increased temperatures and earlier snowmelt, further altering the local hydraulic cycle.

Snow pack plays a crucial role in the West’s hydraulic cycle by providing runoff and

197 David G. Ovard, “The Bear River Project: Utah’s Last Water Hole,” Policy Perspectives 2, no. 3 (Salt Lake City: Center for Public Policy and Administration, 28 February 2006) http://www.imakenews.com/cppa/e_article000537701.cfm?X=B11,0,W (accessed 6 April 2015); Utah Foundation, “The Impacts of Utah’s Population Growth,” 9 October 2008, http://www.utahfoundation.org/reports/?page_id+270 (accessed 21 March 2014); Utah Code Ann. §§ 73-26-104 and 73-26-202; and Bear River Commission, “Seventeenth Biennial Report: Bear River Commission, 2011–2012” (Bountiful, UT: Bear River Commission, November 2013), 12–32, http://bearrivercommission.org/docs/17th%20BIENNIAL%20-%20Final.pdf (accessed 7 April 2015).

112 water to get through the summer drought. The Bear River watershed depends on

snowpack, and will be especially sensitive to such changes. Climate models show that

the overall temperature of the basin will increase along with the amount of precipitation,

resulting in snowpack melting a week earlier than it currently does.198

While these issues paint a dire picture for the marsh’s future, there may be hope.

Climate models and water use are based on current policies and habits. Human societies

can still make the decision to make behavioral changes in water use to mitigate the

effects of future climate change. Journalist Cynthia Barnett in her book Blue Revolution:

Unmaking America’s Water Crisis, called for what she termed a water ethic. This water

ethic involves changing not only the way society uses water, but also the way we value

and view it. Society can choose to place more value on water and its lack of availability,

and use it in a way that does not jeopardize water availability for future generations.

Governments can work with citizens to promote water conservation by all users,

including the agricultural industry. Individual consumption changes will have to be

made. The development of a water ethic is just one step to ensuring the marsh’s, and

ultimately our, survival, part of a larger necessary change in how we approach our

interaction with the environment on local, regional, and global scales. 199

198 Environmental Protection Agency, “Snowpack,” http://www.epa.gov/climatechange/ pdfs/print_snowpack-2012.pdf (accessed 15 April 2014); Environmental Protection Agency, “Climate Change Impacts in the Southwest,” http://www.epa.gov/ climatechange/impacts-adaptation/southwest.html#impactswater (accessed 27 March 2015); Envision Cache Valley, “Final Report & Toolkit,” 7; Geng Zhang et al., “Modeling Current and Future Water Use in Utah with NASA’s Terrestrial Observation and Prediction System,” (presentation ASPRS 2009 Annual Conference, Baltimore, MD, 8–13 March 2009), 1–3. 199 Cynthia Barnett, Blue Revolution: Unmaking America’s Water Crisis (Boston: Beacon Press, 2011), 219–29.

113 The history of the Bear River marsh, its decline and conservation, offers lessons

to today’s society. Large-scale irrigation development in the late nineteenth and early

twentieth century transformed the Bear River watershed into a thriving agricultural

economy. However, the mass manipulation of nature had drastic effects on the Bear

River marsh. Humans consumed and put water to beneficial use that once reached the

marsh and the Great Salt Lake. This decline in the marsh’s water supply combined with

higher temperatures turned the marsh dry. With this change came disease, particularly

avian botulism. In response to these changes on the marsh, sportsmen, scientist, and

politicians came together and worked to conserve this landscape.

The lessons learned in the Bear River watershed about the potential unintended

consequences of manipulating nature are valuable beyond the watershed’s borders. In the face of global climate change, society should ask harder questions about the use of limited resources and adopt sustainable practices and approaches. A local change in resource use can have widespread effects, as the history of the marsh’s conservation shows. Just as historian Jennifer Price showed how the stories told about the passenger pigeon’s extinction were cautionary tales about human interaction with nature and overuse of resources, the narrative of the decline and conservation of the Bear River

marsh are cautionary tales about water consumption and the manipulation of nature in the arid American West.200

200 Jennifer Price, Flight Maps, 52.

114 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Special Collections

Alexander Wetmore Papers, Record Unit 7006, Wetmore, Alexander, 1886–1978. Smithsonian Institute Archives, Washington, DC.

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge Photographs, 1927–1970, P0020 1:206. Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Logan, UT.

Chesapeake Duck Club Records, MSSB-211. Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, UT.

Compton Photograph Studio Archive, P0313 C0748, Utah State University, Merrill- Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Logan, UT.

Historical Photoboards Collection, A-3378, Utah State University, Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Logan, UT.

Ira N., Gabrielson, Wildlife Management Institute Papers. CONS37. Conservation Collection. The Denver Public Library, Denver, CO.

The Izaak Walton League of America Records. CONS41. Conservation Collection. The Denver Public Library, Denver, CO.

Jack Goodman Papers. Accn1521. J. Willard Marriot Library, Special Collections, University of Utah, Salt Lake City, UT.

Shipler Commercial Photographers Collection. Mss C 275. Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, UT.

Vanez T. Wilson, Photograph Collection, 1900–1975, P0468. Merrill-Cazier Library, Special Collections and Archives, Utah State University, Logan, UT.

Primary Sources

Dilg, Will. “The Drainage Crime of a Century,” Izaak Walton League Monthly 1, no. 11 (July 1923): cover, 570, 600–01, 623.

Dodds, J. J. “Hunters Do Not Report Those Hungarian Birds,” Day (New London, CT), 20 October 1910.

115 Folds, Charles W. “National Pollution War Opens.” Outdoor America 5, no. 4 (November 1926): 5–6.

Frémont, John Charles. The Expeditions of John Charles Frémont: Travels from 1838 to 1844. Volume 1. Edited by Donald Jackson and Mary Lee Spence. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970.

Grinnell, George Bird. “The Audubon Society.” Forest and Stream 26 (11 February 1886): 41.

Hart, M. D. “Pollution of Inland Streams.” Outdoor America 2, no. 5 (December 1923): 76.

Lincoln, Frederick C. “The History of and Purposes of Bird Banding.” Auk 38, no. 2 (April 1921): 217–28.

Pulsted, Harold Trowbridge. “The Vested Right to Do Wrong.” Outdoor America 2, no. 5 (December 1923): 204.

Stansbury, Howard. An Expedition to the Valley of the Great Salt Lake. Philadelphia: Lippincott, Grambo, and Co., 1852.

Thomason, Jr., Major John W. “Our Disappearing Ducks.” Saturday Evening Post 207, no. 45 (11 May 1935): 16–17, 44, 47.

Government Documents

Barnett, Jack A. “History of the Bear River Compact.” Utah Division of Water Rights. http://waterrights.utah.gov/techinfo/bearrivc/history.html (accessed 23 March 2015).

Bear River Commission, “Seventeenth Biennial Report: Bear River Commission, 2011– 2012” (Bountiful, UT: November 2013).

Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. Bear River Bay Migratory-Bird Refuge, S. Rep. No. 310, 1928.

Corn, Lynne and Jane G. Gravalle. “Guns, Excise Tax, and Wildlife Restoration.” CRS Report No. R42992. Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2013.

Division of Water Resources. “Utah’s Water Resources: Planning for the Future.” http://www.water.utah.gov/waterplan/SWP_pff.pdf (accessed 23 March 2015).

116 Environmental Protection Agency. “Climate Change Impacts in the Southwest.” http://www.epa.gov/climatechange/impacts-adaptation/southwest.html #impactswater (accessed 27 March 2014).

Environmental Protection Agency. “Snowpack.” http:/www.edpa.gov/climatechange/ pdfs/print_snowpack-2012.pdf (accessed 15 April 2014).

Envision Cache Valley. “Final Report & Toolkit.” http://www.cachecounty.org/assets /department/cpdo/Envision%20Cache/ECV%20Final%20Report.pdf (accessed 16 March 2015).

Johnston, Clarence T, and Joseph A. Breckons. Water-Right Problems of Bear River. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1899.

Gilbert, Karl Grove. Lake Bonneville. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1890.

Hunt, Charles B., Helen D. Varnes, and Harold E. Thomas, Lake Bonneville: Geology of Northern Utah Valley, Utah. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1953.

National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, “Precipitation Rankings, May 1910, Utah.” http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/temp-and-precip/climatological-rankings/ (accessed 19 March 2015).

———. “Utah, Temperature, March–May 1895–2010.” http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/temp- and-precip/timeseries/index.php?parameter=tmp&month=5&year=1910&filter =3&state=42&div=0 (accessed 23 March 2015).

U.S. Census Bureau. Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics of Population—Idaho Supplement. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913.

U.S. Census Bureau. Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics of Population—Utah. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913.

U.S. Census Bureau. Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Vol. VII, Agriculture: Nebraska-Wyoming, Alaska, Hawaii, and Porto Rico. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913.

U.S. Census Bureau. Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Statistics for Wyoming. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1913.

U.S. Congress. Senate. Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. Bear River Bay Migratory-Bird Refuge. 70th Cong., 1st sess., 1928. S. Rep. No. 310.

117 U.S. Congress. Senate. Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. Migratory Bird Refuge, Bear River Bay, Utah: Hearing on S. 5454 before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. 69th Cong., 2nd sess., 15 February 1928.

U.S. Congress. Senate. Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge: Hearings on S. 703 and S. 1272 before the Committee on Agriculture and Forestry. 70th Cong., 1st sess., 14 February 1928.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. “‘Alkali Poisoning’ of Ducks Found to be a Bacterial Disease.” Washington, DC: Office of Information Press Service, 26 December 1930.

U.S. Geological Survey. “Great Salt Lake, Utah.” http://ut.water.usgs.gov/greatsaltlake/ (accessed 12 May 2015).

Utah Irrigation Commission. Irrigation in Utah: Articles Concerning Irrigation Work and Conditions in Utah, and Problems of the Arid West. Salt Lake City: Utah Irrigation Commission, 1895.

Wetmore, Alexander. The Duck Sickness in Utah. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1918.

———. Mortality Among Waterfowl Around Great Salt Lake, Utah. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1915.

Wyoming Water Development Office. “Wyoming State Water Plan—Bear River Basin.” http://waterplan.state.wy.us/basins/bear/bear.html (accessed 23 March 2015).

Constitutions and Statutes

Act of 4 March 1913, Pub. L. No. 430, ch. 145, 37 Stat. 847 (1913). An Act Regulating the Disposal of Sewage from Cities and Towns, S. Res. 25, 9th Leg. (Ut. 1911). Lacey Act of 1900, 16 U.S.C. §§ 3371-78 (1900).

Migratory Bird Treaty Act, 16 U.S.C. §§ 703–712. Pittman-Robertson Wildlife Restoration Act of 1937 (16 U.S.C. §§ 669–669k). U.S. Const., amend. X. U.S. Const., art. II, § 2.

118 U.S. Const., art. VI. Utah Code Ann. 1953 § 73-1-2 (West 2014).

Utah Code Ann. 1953 § 73-1-4 (West 2014). Utah Code Ann. §§ 73-26-101–507 (West 2014).

Court Cases

Coffin v. Left Hand Ditch Co., 6 Colo. 443 (1882).

Greer v. Connecticut, 161 U.S. 519 (1896).

Irwin v. Phillips, 5 Cal. 140 (1855).

Missouri v. Holland, 252 U.S. 416 (1920).

Pierson v. Post, 3 Cai. R. 175 (1805).

United States v. Caldwell, 231 P.434 (Utah 1924).

United States v. McCullagh, 221 Fed. 288 (D. Kan. 1915).

United States v. Shauver, 214 Fed. 154 (E.D. Ark. 1914)

Newspapers

Bakersfield Californian

Boston (MA) Globe

Box Elder News (Brigham City, UT)

Davis County (UT) Clipper

The Day (New London, CT)

Deseret News (Salt Lake City, UT)

Duchesne County (UT) Newspapers

Duchesne Record (UT)

Eastern Utah Advocate (Price, UT)

119 Ephraim (UT) Enterprise

Evening Standard (Ogden, UT)

Gunnison Valley (UT) News

Idaho State Journal (Pocatello, ID)

Iron County (UT) Record

Manti (UT) Messenger

Milwaukee (WI) Journal

Montreal Gazette

Nashua (NH) Telegraph

New York Times

Ogden (UT) Standard

Parowan (UT) Times

Pittsburgh (PA) Press

Piute County (UT) News

Richfield (UT) Reaper

Roosevelt (UT) Standard

Salt Lake (UT) Herald

Salt Lake (UT) Herald-Republican

Salt Lake (UT) Telegram

Salt Lake (UT) Tribune

Southeastern Missourian (Cape Giradeau, MO)

Spokane (WA) Daily Chronicle

120 Washington (PA) Observer

Washington Post

Secondary Sources

Adams, Todd. “Planning for Utah’s Water Needs, Envision Utah.” Envision Utah. http://envisionutah.org/images/projects/Your_Utah_Your_Future/Water/Planning _for_Water_?_Todd_Adams.pdf (accessed 23 March 2014).

Adler, Robert W., Robin K. Craig, and Noah D. Hall. Modern Water Law. St. Paul, MN: Foundation Press, 2013.

Altherr Thomas L., and John F. Reiger. “Academic Historians and Hunting: A Call for More and Better Scholarship.” Environmental History Review 19 (Autumn 1995): 39–56.

Amato, Anthony J., Janet Timmerman, and Joseph A. Amato, eds. Draining the Great Oasis: An Environmental History of Murray County, Minnesota. Marshall, MN: Crossings Press, 2001.

Armitage, Kevin C. The Nature Study Movement: The Forgotten Populizer of America’s Conservation Ethic. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2009.

Arrington, Leonard J. Beet Sugar in the West: A History of the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, 1891–1966. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1966.

———. Great Basin Kingdom: Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830–1900. 1958. Reprint, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966.

———. “Life and Labor among the Pioneers.” In The History of a Valley, edited by Joel E. Ricks, 140–169. Logan: Cache County Centennial Commission, 1956.

Badger, Curtis J. A Natural History of Quiet Waters: Swamps and Wetlands of the Mid- Atlantic Coast. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2007.

Baker, Ron. The American Hunting Myth. New York: Vantage Press, 1985.

Barnett, Cynthia. Blue Revolution: Unmaking America’s Water Crisis. Boston: Beacon Press, 2011.

Barrow, Mark V. Jr. A Passion for Birds: American Ornithology after Audubon. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998.

121 ———. Nature’s Ghosts: Confronting Extinction from the Age of Jefferson to the Age of Ecology. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009.

Bederman, Gail. Manliness and Civilization: A Cultural History of Gender and Race in the United States, 1880–1917. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995.

Behle, William H. The Bird Life of Great Salt Lake; The Life History, Ecology and Population Trends of the California Gulls, White Pelicans, Double-crested Cormorants and Great Blue Herons, Together with an Account of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1958.

Bennet, Cynthia Larson. Roadside History of Utah. Missoula, MT: Mountain Press, 1999.

Betts, John Rickards. America’s Sporting Heritage: 1850–1950. Reading, MA: Addison- Wesley, 1974.

Bolen, Eric G. “Waterfowl Management: Yesterday and Tomorrow.” Journal of Wildlife Management 64, no. 2 (April 2000): 323–35.

Box Elder Chapter Sons of Utah Pioneers. Box Elder Lore of the Nineteenth Century. Brigham City, UT: Box Elder News and Journal, 1951.

Brinkley, Douglas. The Quiet World: Saving Alaska’s Wilderness Kingdom, 1879–1960. New York: HarperCollins, 2011.

———. The Wilderness Warrior: Theodore Roosevelt and the Crusade for America. New York: HarperCollins, 2009.

Buell, Lawrence. “Wetlands Aesthetics.” Environmental History 10 (October 2005): 670–671.

Chapman, Frank M. Autobiography of a Bird-Lover. New York: D. Appleton-Century Co., 1935.

Cioc, Marc. The Game of Conservation: International Treaties to Protect the World’s Migratory Animals. Athens: Ohio University Press, 2009.

Coyle, David Cushman. Conservation: An American Story of Conflict and Accomplishment. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1957.

Credland, Arthur G. “Colonel Hawker and Durs Egg: An Unrecorded Wildfowling Gun, His Famous Two-Barreled Punt Gun and a Passion for Fowling.” Arms & Armour 3, no.1 (Spring 2006): 91-103.

122 Daughters of Utah Pioneers. History of Box Elder County. Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1937.

Dean, Walter E., Richard M. Forester, Jordan Bright, and Roger Y. Anderson. “Influence of the Diversion of Bear River into Bear Lake (Utah and Idaho) on the Environment of Deposition of Carbonate Minerals.” Limnol. Oceanographer 52, no. 3 (2007): 1094–111.

Denton, Craig. Bear River: Last Chance to Change Course. Logan: Utah State University Press, 2007.

Derig, Betty. Roadside History of Idaho. Missoula, MT: Mountain Press, 1996.

Dombeck, Michael P., Christopher A. Wood, and Jack E. Williams, eds. From Conquest to Conservation: Our Public Lands Legacy. Washington, DC: Island Press, 2003.

Dorsey, Kurkpatrick. The Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy: U.S.-Canadian Wildlife Protection Treaties in the Progressive Era. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1998.

Downard, Rebekah, and Joanna Endter-Wada. “Keeping Wetlands Wet in the Wetern United States: Adaptations to Drought in Agriculture-Dominated Human-Natural Systems.” Journal of Environmental Management 131 (2013): 394–406.

Downard, Rebekah, Joanna Endter-Wada, and Karin M. Kettering. “Adaptive Wetland Management in an Uncertain and Changing Arid Environment.” Ecology & Society 19, no. 2 (2014): 23.

Ducks Unlimited. “Waterfowl Facts – The Great Salt Lake.” http://www.ducks.org/utah/ utah-projects/waterfowl-facts-the-great-salt-lake (accessed 7 April 2015).

Dunlap Thomas R. Saving America’s Wildlife. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988.

———. “Sport Hunting and Conservation, 1880–1920.” Environmental Review 12 (Spring 1988): 51–60.

Egan, Timothy. The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire that Saved America. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2009.

Endter-Wada, Joanna, Theresa Selfa, and Lisa W. Welsh. “Hydraulic Interdependencies and Human Cooperation: The Process of Adapting to Droughts.” Water, Climate, and Society 1 (October 2009): 54–70.

123 Evans, Richard J. Death in Hamburg: Society and Politics in the Cholera Years, 1830– 1910. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Farmer, Jared. On Zion's Mount: Mormons, Indians, and the American Landscape. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2008.

Fiege, Mark. Irrigated Eden: The Making of an Agricultural Landscape in the American West. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1999.

Fiest, Ashley R. “Defining the Wingspan of the Migratory Treaty Act.” Akron Law Review 47, no. 3 (2014): 587–615.

Fischman, Robert L. “The Significance of National Wildlife Refuges in the Development of U.S. Conservation Policy.” Journal of Land Use & Environmental Law 21, no. 1 (Fall 2005): 1–22.

Flores, Dan. “Bison Ecology and Bison Diplomacy Redux: Another Look at the Southern Plains from 1800 to 1850.” In American Environmental History, edited by Louis S. Warren, 161–75. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Foundation for Water and Energy Education. “90 Years Later, Early Bear River Projects Still Work,” 6 September 2000. http://news.fwee.org/?p=2266 (accessed 27 March 2014).

Fox, Stephen. The American Conservation Movement: John Muir and His Legacy. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1985.

Francaviglia, Richard V. Believing in Place: A Spiritual Geography of the Great Basin. Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2003.

Garone, Philip. The Rise and Fall of the Wetlands of California’s Great Central Valley. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011.

Godfrey, E. Bruce, Clark Isrealsen, and Dale Baker. “Cache County Agriculture Profile.” Utah State University. http://www.ctahr.hawaii.edu/sustainag/wsare/ Cache_County_Agriculture_Profile.pdf (accessed 7 April 2015).

Godfrey, Matthew C. Religion, Politics, and Sugar: The Mormon Church, the Federal Government, and the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, 1907–1921. Logan: Utah State University Press, 2007.

Graham, Frank, Jr. The Audubon Ark: A History of the National Audubon Society. New York: Alfred Knopf, 1990.

124 Grayson, Donald K. The Desert’s Past: A Natural History of the Great Basin. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1993.

Griffin, Donald R. Bird Migration. New York: Dover Publications, 1974.

Harrington, Winston. “Wildlife: Severe Decline and Partial Recovery.” In America’s Renewable Resources: Historical Trends and Current Challenges, edited by Kenneth D. Frederick and Roger A. Sedjo, 205–46. Washington, DC: Resources for the Future, 1991.

Hawkins, Arthur S. “The U.S. Response.” In Flyways: Pioneering Waterfowl Management in North America, edited by A. S. Hawkins, R. C. Hanson, H. K. Nelson, and H. M. Reeves, 2–9. Washington, DC: U.S. Dept. of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, 1984.

Hays, Samuel P. Conservation and the Gospel of Efficiency: The Progressive Conservation Movement, 1890–1920. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1959.

Headwaters News. “New Report Says West’s Drought Cycle Not Unusual.” New West. Last modified 23 February 2007. http://newwest.net/main/article/new_report _says_wests_drought_cycle_not_unusual/ (accessed 23 March 2015).

Helm, Julie D. “Coccidiosis in Poultry.” www.clemson.edu/public/lph/ahp/ disease_links/images/coccidia.pdf (accessed 24 January 2015).

Herman, Daniel Justin. Hunting and the American Imagination. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, 2001.

Hornaday, William T. Our Vanishing Wild Life: Its Extermination and Preservation. 1913. Reprint, New York: Arno, 1970.

———. Two Years in the Jungle, 7th ed. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1991.

Huchel Frederick M. A History of Box Elder County. Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1999.

Jacoby, Karl. Crimes Against Nature: Squatters, Poachers, Thieves, and the Hidden History of American Conservation. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001.

Jennings, Jesse D. Prehistory of Utah and the Eastern Great Basin. University of Utah Anthropological Papers, no. 98. Salt Lake City: University of Utah, 1978.

125 Kadlec, John A. “Avian Botulism in Great Salt Lake Marshes: Perspectives and Possible Mechanisms.” Wildlife Society Bulletin 30, no. 3 (Autumn 2002): 983–89.

Kadlec John A. and Loren M. Smith. “The Great Basin Marshes.” In Habitat Management for Migrating and Wintering Waterfowl in North America, edited by Loren M. Smith, Roger L. Pederson, and Richard M. Kaminski, 451–71. Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 1989.

Knapp, Bevil, and Mike Dunne. America’s Wetland: Louisiana’s Vanishing Coast. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2005.

Kohlstedt, Sally Gregory. Teaching Children Science: Hands-On Nature Study in North America, 1890–1930. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010.

Langston, Nancy. Where Land & Water Meet: A Western Landscape Transformed. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003.

Lilley, Meredith Blaydes, and Jeremy Firestone. “Wind Power, Wildlife, and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act: A Way Forward.” Environmental Law 38 (2008): 1167–214.

Lindsay, David Moore. “Duck Shooting on Bear River Swamps.” In Camp Fire Reminiscences: Or Tales of Hunting and Fishing in Canada and the West, 65–87. Boston: Dana Estes & Company, 1912.

Locke, Louis N., and Milton Friend. “Avian Botulism: Geographic Expansion of a Historic Disease.” In Waterfowl Management Handbook, edited by Diana H. Cross and Paul Vohs, 1–6. Fort Collins, CO: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, 1988.

Loo, Tina. States of Nature: Conserving Canada’s Wildlife in the Twentieth Century. Vancouver, BC: University of British Columbia Press, 2006.

Marsh, George P. Man and Nature: Or, Physical Geography as Modified by Human Action. 1864. Reprint, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1964.

Mcauley, Erin. “Utah Says U.S. Has no Right to Lake Land.” Courthouse News Service, Environmental Law Review, 28 April 2012. www.cnsenvironmentallaw.com /2012/04/26/757.htm (accessed 10 May 2015).

McCarthy, Max R. The Last Chance Canal Company. Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press, 1987.

126 Meindl, Christopher F. “Past Perceptions of the Great American Wetland: Florida’s Everglades during the Early Twentieth Century.” Environmental History 5 (July 2000): 378–95.

Merritt, Dawn. “The Roarding 20s: A Call to Action.” Outdoor America 77, no. 1 (Winter 2012): 24–33.

Mighetto, Lisa. Wild Animals and American Environmental Ethics. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1991.

Millard, Alan. The Great Salt Lake Guidebook: A Unique Educational Resource. Bountiful, UT: Horizon Publishers 2000.

Miller, Oliver Thorne. A Bird-Lover in the West. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1894.

Morgan, Dale L. The Great Salt Lake. 1947. Reprint, Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1995.

Nelson, Lowry. The Mormon Village: a Pattern and Technique of Land Settlement. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1952.

Ovard, David G. “The Bear River Project: Utah’s Last Water Hole.” Policy Perspectives, 2, no. 3 (Salt Lake City, UT: Center for Public Policy and Administration, 28 February 2006. http://www.imakenews.com/cppa/e_article000537701.cfm?x =b11,0,w (accessed 6 April 2015).

Pearson, Thomas Gilbert. Adventures in Bird Protection: An Autobiography. New York: D. Appleton-Century Co., 1937.

Peterson, F. Ross. A History of Cache Valley. Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1997.

Price, Jennifer. Flight Maps: Adventures with Nature in Modern America. New York: Basic Books, 1999.

Prince, Hugh. Wetlands of the American Midwest: A Historical Geography of Changing Attitudes. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997.

Pyne, Stephen J. Year of the Fires: The Story of the Great Fires of 1910. New York: Viking, 2001.

Ray, Jack. “Great Salt Lake Cuck Club History.” Unpublished manuscript, 20 March 2015. pdf.

127 Reeves, Henry M. “Alexander Wetmore.” In Flyways: Pioneering Waterfowl Management in North America, edited by A. S. Hawkins, R. C. Hanson, H. K. Nelson, H. M. Reeves, 75–81. Washington, DC: U.S. Dept. of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, 1984.

Reiger, John F. American Sportsmen and the Origins of Conservation. 3rd ed. Corvallis: Oregon State University Press, 2001.

———. “John F. Reiger’s Commentary on Thomas R. Dunlap’s Article, ‘Sport Hunting and Conservation, 1880–1920,’ in ER 12:1 (Spring 1998).” Environmental Review 12, no. 3 (Autumn 1998): 94–96.

Reffalt, William. History of Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge. Fish and Wildlife Service. http://www.fws.gov/refuges/centennial/pdf2/pelicanIsland_reffalt.pdf (accessed 31 March 2015).

Rich, Russell R. Land of the Sky-Blue Water: A History of the L.D.S. Settlement of the Bear Lake Valley. Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press, 1963.

Richards, Stuart H., Lynn H. Davis, and Richard E. Griffin. Irrigation & Canal Companies of Utah. Logan: Agricultural Experiment State Extension Services Utah State University, 1963.

Ricks, Joel Edward. The Beginnings of Settlement in Cache Valley. Logan: Faculty Association, Utah State Agricultural College, 1953.

Ripley, S. Dillon, and James A. Steed. “Alexander Wetmore, 1886-1978.” In Biographical Memoirs. 596–626. Vol. 56 Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 1987, 597–626. http://www.nap.edu/catalog.php?record_id=897 (accessed 2 April 2015).

Roosevelt, Theodore. Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail. 1901, Reprint, Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 1983.

———. Theodore Roosevelt; An Autobiography. New York: Macmillan Company, 1913.

Rosenberg, Charles E. The Cholera Years: The United States in 1832, 1849, and 1866. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962.

Rotundo, E. Anthony. American Manhood: Transformations in Masculinity from the Revolution of the Modern Era. New York: Basic Books, 1993.

Scarpino, Philip V. Great River: An Environmental History of the Upper Mississippi, 1890–1950. Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1985.

128 Simms, Steven R. “Farmers, Foragers, and Adaptive Diversity: the Great Salt Lake Wetlands Project.” In Prehistoric Lifeways in the Great Basin Wetlands: Bioarchaeological Reconstruction and Interpretation, edited by Brian E. Hemphil and Clark Spencer Larsen, 21–54. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1999.

Smalley, Andrea L. “‘Our Lady Sportsmen’: Gender Class, and Conservation in Sport Hunting Magazines, 1873–1920.” Journal of Gilded Age and Progressive Era 4 (October 2005): 355–80.

Stradling, David, ed. Conservation in the Progressive Era: Classic Texts. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2004.

Turner, Frederick Jackson. Rereading Frederick Jackson Turner: “The Significance of the Frontier in American History”, and Other Essays. Commentary by John Mack Farragher. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998.

Utah Foundation. “The Impacts of Utah’s Population Growth,” 9 October 2008. http:www.utahfoundation.org/reports/?page_id+270 (accessed 21 March 2014).

Van Den Akker, John B., and Vanez T. Wilson, “Twenty Years of Bird Banding at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah.” Journal of Wildlife Management 13 (October 1949): 359–76.

Vileisis, Anne. Discovering the Unknown Landscape: A History of America’s Landscape. Washington, DC: Island Press, 1997.

Warren, Louis S. The Hunter’s Game: Poachers and Conservationists in Twentieth- Century America. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997.

Washington Biologists’ Field Club. “Wetmore, Alexander—Biography.” USGS Patuxent Wildlife Research Center. http://www.pwrc.usgs.gov/resshow/perry/bios /wetmorealexander.htm (accessed 31 March 2015).

Welsh, Lisa W., Joanna Endter-Wada, Rebekah Downard, and Karin M. Kettering. “Developing Adaptive Capacity to Droughts: The Rationality of Locality.” Ecology and Society 18, no. 2 (2013): 7.

Whisker, James Biser. Hunting in the Western Tradition Volume 2: Our Hunting Heritage: The Written Tradition, c. 800 B.C. –1925 A.D. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1999.

Williams, Terry Tempest. Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place. 1991. Reprint, New York: Vintage Books, 2001.

129

Wilson, Robert M. “Directing the Flow: Migratory Waterfowl, Scale, and Mobility in Western North America.” Environmental History 7 (April 2002): 247–66.

———. Seeking Refuge: Birds and Landscapes of the Pacific Flyway. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2012.

Wisch, Rebecca F. “Overview of the Lacey Act (16 U.S.C. §§3371-3378).” Animal Legal & Historical Center. http://www.animal law.info/article /overview-lacey-act-16-usc-ss-3371-3378 (accessed 23 February 2015).

Worster, Donald. Rivers of Empire: Water, Aridity, and the Growth of the American West. New York: Oxford University Press, 1985.

Wrenn, R. Scott. “A History of Water Resources Development in the Bear River Basin of Utah, Idaho, and Wyoming.” Master’s thesis, Utah State University, 1973.

Zhang, Geng, Kate Lowry, Ramakrishna Nemani, J. W. Skiles, and Cindy Schmidt. “Modeling Current and Future Water Use in Utah with NASA’s Terrestrial Observation and Prediction System.” Presentation ASPRS 2009 Annual Conference, Baltimore, MD, 8–13 March 2009.