NEBRASKAland

Speak Up

Sir / I read with interest your editorial with which I heartily agree. I am referred to as elderly, age 69. For some time, I have been of a mind to express my views on free hunting and fishing privileges extended to certain groups, such as myself. I am not in favor of passing on the cost of the privileges I enjoy so much to another group, nor am I in favor of seeing these services or privileges curtailed or discontinued because of lack of funds that would be a certainty if I and my group were to quit sending your office our meager hunting and fishing permit fees.

Because many of us elderly have more time to enjoy fishing and hunting, we get more benefit than the rest, and certainly I feel thankful for the fish, game, facilities and privileges that are available because of permit fees. A resident permit, when figured over a period of one year, costs about three cents per day, including federal and state bird stamps. It is the cheapest and best and healthiest pastime we have. I feel so strongly about this that I would buy a permit even if a free one was available.

In my lifetime, I have seen hunting and fishing access areas diminish to almost zero and return to special-use areas. Hunter and fisherman and farmer cooperatives are so abundant that few if any of us can find time to take advantage of all of them. The pheasant has come from zero to abundance, geese from the danger point to literally thousands, and mallards from danger to flocks that all but blacken the sky in December over corn fields just out of Omaha. Deer that we had to go to Wyoming or Colorado for now are a menace at our Omaha Airport and have been seen from our backyards in Omaha. Need I say more?

Sir / As a World War II veteran over 65 years of age, I had planned to obtain a free hunting and fishing license until I read your article. You convinced me that I should pay the regular fee, which I have done. I agree with your statement that it is unfair to shift the financial support of the Game and Parks Commission to other sportsmen who may be subjected to increased fees to compensate for funds lost by issuing free permits to special groups.

I do not believe there is such a great majority of disabled veterans and/or elderly sportsmen unable to pay their own way to justify free permits, or even permits at a reduced rate.

Sir / I would like to be counted as one who thinks the free permits are so much hogwash. I have been able to purchase hunting and fishing permits, along with upland game stamps and federal duck stamps since I was 16, all with money I earned through my own efforts. When the day comes that I have to depend on the state's general fund for my permit, I'll sell my guns and give my flyrod away.

I have every respect for old people. My grandfather lived to be 101. With luck, I'll be hunting and fishing up to my dying day, but I'll pay for it myself, thank you.

Sir / I am opposed to free licenses for any one under any circumstances. I know it takes a lot of money to hire wardens, and we need more money for research. We have made progress under the present program. Making radical changes might cause us to lose all we have gained.

Sir / During the past decade, and more, we have seen the quality of hunting and fishing increase to a marked degree in our state. The credit must go to competent and long range planning by the Game and Parks Commission, and the willingness of sports men to pay the price.

If we were to go to a program of state funding, the pressure of politics would make a shambles of all that has been accomplished during the past 20 years. I would suggest a program of education through your fine magazine, and speaking engagements by members of the commission and wardens to slow down and stop this growing movement, and to try to get these free privilege laws repealed.

Sir / I don't believe that a few free permits given to aged people and veterans would make much of a difference in your budget. For the most part, these people don't hunt. Some fish, but then just from the banks of ponds. As for lost funds, most of these people wouldn't have bought a permit any way.

Sir / I think we should be allotted money from the general fund to make up for lost revenue from free hunting and fishing permits.

Sir / I have subscribed to NEBRASKAland since 1963. In the many years of enjoyment from each issue, I always thought the hostess of the month was one of the main features of the magazine. Why has this feature disappeared? Many people in this area feel the magazine is not the same without the hostess of the month.

Sir / Robert Steffens's article did well in presenting the problem and challenging the individual to change, but legislation is the key to change. I'm not an ecology freak, nor have I ever been instrumental in the passage of legislation, but I am sincerely interested.

Sir / It seems to me that this article and the concept it conveys must not go unanswered. I am sure others are more capable of this than I, but I will at least try to express my thoughts on this subject and my objections to the thrust of Mr. Steffen's message.

I believe that his theory of a return to organic farming is no more than an impossible dream. Anything that is harvested from the soil and removed from the farm depletes the soil. In time, these withdrawals must be replaced. Of course it is accelerated under modern farming techniques due to much higher production, but it is not idle talk to say that if the population of the world is to be fed, it cannot be done with the production expected under crop rotation, crop diversity, low energy, farming-is-a-way-of life theory espoused by Mr. Steffen.

Naturally we must use the techniques of modern agriculture wisely, just like almost everything else in life, but I am firmly convinced that, where properly used, the commercial chemical fertilizers, herbicides and insecticides are a real blessing not only to agriculture, but to the entire population. I have lived nearly all my life on one section of land. I can well remember under some thing similar to Mr. Steffen's organic farm ing system yields of 40 or 50 bushels of corn and 25 bushels of wheat some years, and complete failures other years. These crops produced very little organic matter and the soil washed away in rains and blew away in the wind. We had insect problems, severe at times, and we always had weeds. Because of uncertain production, livestock numbers were low and fluctuated with the seasons.

Now we irrigate, fertilize, use herbicides and insecticides according to the best recommendations. Our yields of corn approach 1 50 bushels year after year and that is the only crop we raise. The organic matter in our soil is much higher than it ever was before. Erosion by water is much reduced, and by wind is almost nil. I have no counts of microbial activity before or now, but with the higher organic matter content and the good decay of it, I feel certain that the soil biology is much improved. We have continued to have our well water tested and the results are zero ppm nitrogen. I agree that it is desirable to feed back as much of the production as possible onto the farm, and we are attempting to do this, but more from an economic point of view than from an ecological one.

It seems to me that your magazine would serve a much more useful purpose if it would point out specific problems that face modern society and concentrate on finding answers, rather than publishing stories which make sweeping condemnations of what is being done and suggest that the only answer is to return to former times, which I feel is impossible. You have published articles finding fault with almost any suggestion to more fully utilize our water resources.

Sir / Dr. J. G. Spangler's letter in the January issue of NEBRASKAland practically demands a rebuttal. I'm going to do it by asking Dr. Spangler some questions, and then let his conscience guide him.

Do you eat meat of any kind? Have you ever visited some of the commercial slaughterhouses where little lambs, bleating to tear your heart out, are often callously butchered? Isn't it wonderful to be able to drive in solid comfort to the nearest super market for some choice lamb chops? Do you really know why some areas have an under-population of wild game, and why it would not be feasible to try restocking these areas? Could it have some

thing to do with loss of proper habitat, like poor farm practices and bulldozing for urban sprawl and superhighways?

Which is worse, outright killing of surplus game or allowing it to slowly starve to death, homeless and lost?

Where and how have you hunted in the past? Have you ever gone into the wilderness where your very survival might hinge on your ability to cope with some of the most arduous tasks demanded of man?

How much closer can we come to a so called "superior species" considering what is now occurring in Southeast Asia, where thousands of human beings are being slaughtered in the name of I don't know what?

Where do you propose that the "two of a kind" wild game be raised for the man who wishes to eat wild meat? In his back yard? Where would you release the other, now nearly domesticated animal, if it were possible to raise it at all in captivity?

Do you drive an automobile? Did you know that in some areas more game is killed by cars than by hunters? And that the occupants of the autos are also often injured, sometimes killed? Did you know that the automobile does not discriminate against killing songbirds, too?

In closing, I do not mean to be disrespectful of Dr. Spangler. If, on moral grounds, he chooses not to hunt, that is his privilege. On the other hand, his letter seemed all out of proportion to known facts, and appeared to be an unjust vilification of the true sportsman who finds hunting a vigorous, demanding and rewarding sport.

If he hasn't already done so, I'd like to suggest that Dr. Spangler read the article by William G. Lindeken, "Curbing The Vandal," on page 7 of the same issue. Mr. Lindeken tells of the kind of hunters we can well do without.

Sir / We people here in Pennsylvania are glad that Dr. Spangler expressed his views on hunting. We have barred the roads and are keeping watch for him at the border.

Out here we people are hunted by deer. The first day of the season a deer hooked a woman on her fanny and tossed her into a ditch, and she wasn't even hunting.

In my state, in 1972, 26,435 deer were killed by cars; hunters took over 107,000. If we take Dr. Spangler's suggestion to raise two and eat one, we add 107,000 to the deer population to die of starvation, and if we could raise them, they would not be wild.

Come on, Doc, and say you are just kidding. Your letter is the funniest I have read since they printed Captain Billy's Whiz Bang.

Sir / Would you, Dr. Spangler, like to see hundreds of thousands of pheasants killed by starvation and winter kill? I imagine it would give you "a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach." The pheasant harvest in Iowa for the 1971 season was 1,700,000. If these birds had not been harvested, the natural mortality rate would have been high.

Sir / You [Dr. Spangler] have fallen hook, line and sinker for one of our nation's latest fads. As usual, this fad was started by a few individuals who know only enough about the subject to sound educated. I have seen very few cases of wanton slaughter, and those who commit these acts cannot possibly be classified as hunters.

As for the possibility of encountering a superior species, I only hope that species will have as much concern for our welfare as the true hunters and sportsmen of this world have for the welfare of wildlife.

Sir / Thanks for your fine article on the Plum Creek Circle Tour. One spot you missed is the historical Evergreen Cemetery. The cemetery will be 100 years old this year. I am trying to catalog the original lot owners and to bring the Lexington records up to date on burials. The records I have are first dated August 8, 1873. Perhaps you might like to do a story on it some day.

Sir / Your December issue contained some great copies of C. G. (Bud) Pritchard's paintings. In the past, you have reprinted pictures such as these for framing. Will you be doing that again? If so, I would like a set of them.

Sir / The article "Gems In the Rough" was truly a gem. Old houses are topical sub jects for those with divergent interests.

Sir / Warren Spencer's article was one of the most interesting I have read in many a year. Being a native of Nebraska, I enjoy every trip back — several since I left York in 1935.

Years ago, around 1910, my father had a farm on the Blue River about five miles below Hebron. Our home was between the Rock Island railroad and the river. That's where I spent my boyhood days, hunting, fishing and swimming.

Your article brought back many old memories, including one about an old mansion about four miles southeast of Hebron, at that time known as the "Lake Mansion." I remember it as an enormous house with several large chimneys, a 2 1/2 story affair appearing to have many rooms. We were told that a family from the East Coast had become quite wealthy from a patent on evaporated milk, had bought the land, and had built the mansion in real Western style, but I cannot verify this legend.

Sir/ As a born and raised Nebraskan, I have enjoyed reading in NEBRASKAland about things that used to pass me by. I must say I loved this issue [March] the best. The pictures were gorgeous (any Texan would have to agree) and I can't tell you how much I loved the article "Gems In The Rough." It could have been longer with more pictures. Thanks for bringing back happy memories of tramping around lovely old houses myself.

Sir / I was impressed with your brief, but worthwhile article in the November 1972 issue of NEBRASKAland entitled "Who Owns a River?"

"Having grown up in Nebraska, now living just across the Missouri River in Vermillion, South Dakota, I can thoroughly appreciate what a river should look like. And, being an ecologist in a position to teach, I can only hope that it is possible to instill in younger people the real need for wild rivers, as well as other wild natural areas. There is so little of what is really natural left in man's progressive world that when we have something as natural as a stretch of river, it demands that people speak out to help keep it that way if possible. Who Owns a River? may be a question which only the courts can answer. Justice William O. Douglas, in an article in a recent issue of The Living Wilderness, points out that inanimate objects (if they are indeed inanimate) must have advocates for their survival, for they are unable to speak for themselves. To quote Justice Douglas in his article:

"The river, for example, is the living symbol of all the life it sustains or nourishes- fish, aquatic insects, water ouzels, otters, fishers, deer, elk, bear, and all other animals, including man, who are dependent on it or who enjoy it for its sight, its sound or its life."

Additionally, we have a responsibility to the future, and keeping a part of our landscape in its natural state is part of that responsibility. Too little is yet known about the ecological functions in natural systems to destroy them at will. Indeed, there will be future generations of people who for one

reason or another will want, or need, to have natural areas. This generation certainly has not the right to take away the opportunity for future generations to observe, enjoy, study and understand nature as it has been for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years.

Sir / The article on Brownville was extremely accurate. I have been through the town many times during the past five years and have seen the problems mentioned. I didn't interpret the article as being one of attack, but one of criticism — very fair, justified criticism. We read this kind of truth occasionally to put everything in perspective, as your beautiful photography and stories would have most people believing Nebraska is perfect. This might be the motivation which brings Brownville around to what it could be.

Sir / Having read your article on "Winter Cover" in the January issue, I am very impressed, yet know how true it is what the article brought out — the fact that good cover is a vital element for many animals to survive through the winter. Where I live, it is very easy to tell which fields hold pheasants. Some farms around us don't have one pheasant because of fall plowing, ditch mowing, fences and excessive use of sprays.

We have suitable places for pheasants on both my farms. Every year we set aside idle land which is sowed for pasture to give pheasants good cover. Also, we avoid excessive spraying. We mow no ditches and let waterways and fence lines go.

Sir / We have been to several fish boils in Wisconsin's Door County. They took place outdoors and we found them to be most interesting. The fish were delicious. Little did we dream we would be able to enjoy such a specialty in our own home. Recently, we boiled some coho salmon our son had caught in Michigan. Thanks for sharing the recipe with us.

Sir / Warren Spencer's article in the March issue was very interesting. I note that Fort Kearny is marked inland from the Missouri River, about in Pawnee County. Recently, I read an article in the Montana Historical Society's magazine that spoke of the development 8 of the original Fort Kearny on the Missouri River at the point where Nebraska City is now located.

It is interesting to note that there was a Fort Kearny No. 3 that was erected in Wyoming, according to this historical review of frontier forts, but that it was abandoned when the Indian uprising became so intense that those far-distant forts could not be supplied.

Sir / Like many other sportsmen of my acquaintance, I had heard stories, and read advertisements about the wonderful pheasant hunting in the state of Nebraska. At last the financial means and time were there for me to make a trip to your state to hunt pheasants. To say the least, the hunting was very disappointing. This was not because the birds were absent, but because it was almost impossible to find a place to hunt. I spent nearly one week driving around eastern Nebraska asking one farmer after another for permission to hunt and getting refused time after time after time. In addition, I would estimate that 70 to 80 percent of the land was posted with "No Hunting" signs, and, of course, in these instances I did not inquire at all.

I did not ask to hunt around buildings, in standing corn, milo, or soybeans, or around cattle. I specifically asked to hunt stream bottoms, fence lines and shelterbelts. I have hunted for many years in a number of states, and I have never been subjected to such a barrage of verbal abuse on the part of farm people as I was in Nebraska. Instead of a simple no to my inquiries regarding permission to hunt, many times I had to listen to farmers launch an emotional attack on me personally as a hunter. I'm no different than any other white middle-aged man of moderate means, and I was trying to be as much a gentleman as possible, so I must assume that this sort of behavior on the part of Nebraska farm people is not unusual. The only conclusion I can arrive at is that a very significant percentage of Nebraska farmers are a very ill-mannered, ill-tempered, sour, sorry lot of people. The first few times I was treated this way, naturally, I reacted with some anger, but after a while, when I began to see this type of behavior present as a pattern, I began to feel sorry for these people. Any group of people that are that untrusting and sullen and have that much hate in their hearts deserves to be pitied. I saw many churches throughout the Nebraska countryside as I drove around. One has to wonder what is being taught in those churches.

I am only one individual and I only spent around $250 while I was in Nebraska, but you can be sure that I won't spend $250 in Nebraska again. I also have a number of friends who are hunters who will hear of my experiences, and, of course, so will the outdoors editor of my local newspaper.

Before the farmer says to himself 'Great, he won't be back again to hunt,' let me remind him of a few facts of life. I am just as capable as he of writing to my elected federal representatives. I can write and say that perhaps the federal government should provide more recreational opportunities for the average family by forcing farmers, by financial means, to open up their lands. I can write and say that perhaps the individual private farmer is a thing of the past and that more and more American farming should be taken over by government bodies or large business concerns. I can write and state my opinions on such things as beef import quotas, foreign grain deals, leather import quotas and grain price supports. You can bet my opinions won't be stated in favor of the farmer. And, let me remind the farmer that in terms of numbers, he is by far the minority.

Let's hope that the next time a hunter drives 700 miles to Nebraska after pheasants, he leaves for home with less of a bitter feeling toward Nebraska than I did. —

Sir / After two years of planning, we finally got to hunt in Nebraska. Everything was perfect except the weather. We hunted two days of the five we were in Oxford because of an early storm. I saw more game than I had seen in my entire life. We would like to thank everyone in the Oxford area for making ours a memorable experience.

Sir / As a displaced Nebraskan in Michigan, I too found the article "Zigzag Zonk" in the June issue of NEBRASKAland distasteful. However, I find the responses of two readers in the November issue (Speak Up) even more so.

I find it difficult to understand the 'Johnny-come-lately' ecologists who find it necessary to castigate the true sports hunter who, through self-imposed taxation, license fees and outright donations, has been the prime financial support of land acquisition, law-enforcement programs, research, reintroduction of species and introduction of new species of wildlife by various game commissions. It would seem appropriate if, indeed, they would join forces to combat the real despoilers of the earth's ecosystem, namely the agri-industrial complexes and governmental agencies that show so little regard for the earth.

Might I also suggest that they employ themselves in educating the young in true sportsmanship and sensible ecological control of the environment, as hunters and fish ermen have done for years. Should they find it impossible to do these things, then the least they can do is to keep their mouths shut and permit those of us who have been engaged in this work in the past to continue.

Sir / Pollution has been growing worse since I came to this country in 1912 and liked what I saw. What has caused it? Well, man's greed for money has had much to do with it. Now, there will be much shout ing through the news media, and I hope they can get something done.

During every broadcast, radio station KFAB in Omaha, and others like it through out the state, is telling farmers just what poison to use. Every farm paper does the same thing. Our once-rich black soil has turned gray and won't stay in the fields any more. It washes away or blows out.

Nature is the only thing which can do something about our situation, and it is working on the case. I am 82 years old and would like to do a littie more fishing before I sign off, but it looks doubtful. Even the trout streams in my area are polluted.

for the Record

the purpose of the Game and Parks Commission

Every entity, be it an individual, a corporation or a government agency, must have a reason for being —a purpose. The Nebraska Game and Parks Commission is no exception, and in 1972 the department undertook a program to re-examine and re-evaluate its role in state conservation.

To serve a stated purpose, goals must be set as a basis to chart the direction of progress. For goals to be valuable, they must be broad and far-reaching. They must be forward or future-oriented, with the recognition that the future moves toward the present whether or not we move toward the future. As we set goals, therefore, our view should be as wide as the horizon, but with our course directed toward meeting the light of the approaching sunrise, rather than in chasing shadows of the retreating sunset.

The Nebraska Game and Parks Commission has widened its perspective through the following purpose and goals.

Purpose: Husbandry of the state's wildlife, park, and outdoor recreational resources in the best long-term interests of the people.

Goals: (1) To plan for and implement all policies and programs in an efficient and objective manner. Basic to the approach must be the commission's formula tion of policy which takes into consideration the concerns of the citizens of the state and the viewpoints of the staff. Only through a team approach can the complex task of wildlife conservation and outdoor recreation management be accomplished.

(2) To maintain a rich and diverse environment in the lands and waters of Nebraska. This agency is charged with the welfare of wildlife resources in Nebraska and must be concerned with the maintenance of entire plant/animal communities and the basic resources such as soil, water, air, land forms and gene pools, which constitute the foundation of these wild communities.

(3) To provide outdoor recreation opportunities. The commission must develop and maintain park and wildlife areas, and provide for the use of other public and private lands and waters for both the consumptive and non-consumptive user.

(4) To manage wildlife resources for maximum benefit of the people. While it may be necessary to take reasonable steps to manipulate wild animal population levels or to remove nuisance animals, the commission should first seek an ethic among land and water users that will insure a pattern of land use compatible with the many resident and migratory forms of wildlife.

(5) To cultivate man's appreciation of his role in the world of nature. Conservation of the wild community and its components ultimately rests not in the authority of the commission, but in the attitude of citizens and the values they place on wild things. Well-placed attitudes and values can come only from an understanding of the natural world, how it works, and man's role in it. The commission must provide the means by which Nebraskans can see themselves as a part of a total community of soil, water, plants, and other animals which make up our life-support system.

With the adoption of this purpose and these goals by the commission, the agency staff can now develop program objectives as yardsticks of progress. The questions are many. Why are we engaged in various activities? Are they bringing us any closer to our goals? Are they the best and most efficient ways of achieving our goals? What other programs could better accomplish these ends? We hope and expect that this effort will help us all pull together-public, commission and staff, in an attempt to reach the same ends and to better understand our reason for being.

THE LURE OF THE SAND HILLS

From a photo essay on the thin-legged avocet to a glance at what lies underneath, this issue focuses attention on

Our minds are attics cluttered with images we collect, sort through and save. Some tarnish and dim with years. Others stay clear and hold to life. Hazy and distant is the coyote which wanders still through a dusk-filled ravine; yet it persists today as strong a symbol of all that is wild and free as it did to your boy eyes. And forever quick and sharp is the sudden startle you shared with a bullsnake, surprised in the short grass. Some images remain hidden and dormant but then, like a jackrabbit, kick to life and run again across your mind when December stings, or perhaps the wind in April is right and leans the land to spring.

IN THE VAST, treeless sweep of Nebraska's Sand Hills, spring is prickly pear and spiderwort and yucca, and the land is fragrant with a desert scent. Where groundwater seeps to the surface, the sand supports oases of green meadow and teeming marsh, and the wind can be discovered in cattail and willow. Here, where water and land intertwine, the water birds come to construct their summer lives. Amid the prattling killdeer and busy, comic phalarope stands a surprising elegance. Like a badge of wilderness itself, with its striking shape and coloration, the American avocet strides conspicuous and bright along the shorelines of pond and pothole.

Even if it were not aggressive and bold, the avocet would find it difficult to conceal itself. It is a tall bird, standing up to 20 inches. Its blue legs, buff head, and flashing white and black body markings veritably propel it from its green and gray surroundings.

Intrude upon their nesting and feeding grounds, and the sky around you fills with avocets, circling and diving, the air ringing with alarm. Kleek, kleekf ple-eek, ple-eek come the cries of the plunging, darting birds. Ahead, closer to the nests,

more avocets stand as sentinels. When the inner defenses are penetrated, the protest becomes shrill, more urgent; the dives closer, faster, more reckless. Suddenly across your path flutters a "wounded" bird, "broken" wing trailing, its pathetic mewing promising an easy kill if you will but follow. Be careful now, for a nest is very near.

Examine the ground closely, for you will look right at a nest and for a moment not see it, so well do the eggs blend with the sand and stubble. Although no attempt is made to conceal them, discovering nests is a surprisingly difficult task. The shallow depression, about four inches in diameter and ringed with loosely woven bits of reed and grass, holds three to four olive-dappled eggs.

While there appears to be no ritualistic courtship display, elaborate posturings are often observed. One bird may open its wings and dance about, or teeter back and forth in the shallow water as if walking a tightrope. A deserted pond may suddenly fill with avocets in a procession of follow-the-leader or an exciting game of tag. Then, just as suddenly, the birds disperse. Prior to mating, a pair was,observed striding through the

water, occasionally pecking and caressing each other on the back with their bills. Then the hen assumed a graceful crouch in the shallow water, neck extended. The drake responded to this attitude of invitation with pretended reluctance, performing a charade of feeding and preening, occasionally tossing water with its bill. For several long minutes the hen remained motionless, ignoring the commotion of a parade of Wilson's phalaropes which paddled past on either side, busily feeding. Mating accomplished, the drake strode upon the shore and assumed a strange, deliberate pose —wings stretched straight up and neck extended —an attitude which lasted several seconds and was never witnessed again.

During incubation, the parents alternate between sitting on the eggs and feeding. Many nests are lost at this time to predators, bullsnakes taking a heavy toll in meadows densely colonized. Nests in low areas are often lost to flooding after severe rains. Once a nest is destroyed, no further attempts will be made that season.

Within hours of hatching, the chicks are mobile and expert at hiding in even the sparsest cover. Their juvenile plumage provides them excellent camouflage.

Taking to water immediately, the chicks show no hesitation, and are soon leisurely swimming and tipping up to probe for food.

Perhaps the most interesting feature of the avocet is its method of feeding. Dipping its long upturned bill below the surface and using it as a scythe, the bird sweeps its head from side to side, harvesting insect larvae, small crustaceans, even fish.

Once common to the eastern United States, the avocet proved too easy a target and was soon eliminated. Lack of habitat curtails its range today, but it is fairly widely distributed in the western United States and Canada. Avocets prefer alkaline water. Because of the many such lakes found on the Crescent Lake National Wildlife Refuge and Valentine National Migratory Waterfowl Refuge, these preserves provide the best avocet habitat in Nebraska.

To live a succession of long days amid wild song in a season when sun and grass increase, allowing the shell of human concern to shed itself moon upon moon, is to drink the finest wine. Voices you hear in the grass at dawn sing in the forenoon wind. Afternoon thunderheads build up and defy you to tarry. Nothing goes unnoticed then, nothing on land or water or in the sky.

The fourth chick to hatch was weaker than the rest. From the nest it frantically peeped, struggling to follow the others that ranged farther from the nest to seek their parents and the saving water. Finally it was alone. There was no protection now as the rain spattered down, then beat hard, smothering the calls of the parents and the pipings of the other chicks. When I brought the weakened chick to the water's edge, the parent avocet raised up from its feeding and stared, bill

dripping. We were very close and in the rain it showed no fear. We stared at one another. Here I was, no longer concealed by the blind, the mysterious presence it had known these many days. For a moment I thought I could see behind its stare and read — discern something that was not just instinct, not just the old circuitry of a machine. This foolish moment ended abruptly. The bird blinked, stretched, scratched the feathers of its breast, shook itself and turned, dropping its bill into the rain-disturbed water again. It stepped slowly off. Its nesting duty was done. I released the chick from the protection of my hands, setting it on the shore. Immediately it struggled to the water, swimming toward the other chicks which bobbed nearby, its purpose to escape, to swim, to live. It never looked back.

The nest disintegrated in the rain. Now my season here was finished. Reluctantly I began to pack my gear, dismantling the blind and shivering in the cold, wind-swept rain. I will be left with a tapestry of images which the years will disassemble and fade. But each spring from the clutter will rise the bright image of blue legs and impossible bill, standing above a nest, an apparition which is really undefined, knowledgeless and wild, a construction of wind, sun, rain, and the continual buzzing of water bugs. Let that suffice.

From the Pine Ridge to South Sioux City, this unique tour covers state's Sand Hills

NEBRASKA'S Sand Hills are unique unto themselves, offering hundreds of thousands of acres of stretch-out space for those with a yen for something a bit different from the humdrum, ordinary things in life. Scenic highways lace this land, opening special vistas to those who elect to probe the expanse. Crossing the wide Missouri at South Sioux City, U.S. Highway 20 meanders across northern Nebraska, giving travelers the option of a slower-paced, picturesque route. It provides a close-up look at this unusual land that becomes but a blur past the side window for those choosing the speed of the superhighway. From the horse races at Atokad Park in South Sioux City, this "Trans Western Route" offers interesting scenery and a saddlebag jammed full of activities. The lilt of Irish laughter seems to echo across the hills, as you enter O'Neill. At Valentine, you reach the "Heart of the Hills" and the hub of some must see attractions. En route, you may wish to pause awhile at Spring Valley Park at Newport to stroll through its elms. (Continued on page 64)

Prairie Grouse

Sharptail

Once more plentiful than the bison, encroaching agriculture reduced this "prairie hen" to remnant populations

THE PROMISE of a great network of fur-rich waterways beckoned 18th-century trappers into this nation's interior and led to white man's first encounter with the "hen of the prairie." At that time, sharp-tailed grouse seemed as inexhaustible as the great herds of bison blanketing the plains. ". . . and we put up grouse in such numbers that scarcely had laggers from one flock disappeared from sight before another covey rose," one early account read.

During lean years, while settlers adapted to prairie life, sharptails provided victuals for many a hungry family. Grouse were shot and trapped for home use, for sport, and for commercial marketing, but the sharptail's range spared them the carnage that had blighted the prairie chickens in heavily settled regions to the East. The uncompromising perversiveness of Nebraska's Sand Hills repulsed early settlement and provided sanctuary for the sharptail, while in other parts of their range they were forced to extinction.

The sharptail's original range was expansive, extending from Hudson Bay on the northeast and northern Kansas and eastern Iowa on the southeast, west across the plains and intermountain region to north-central Alaska and south to northern New Mexico. Pushed from much of that range by in tensified agriculture, sharp-tailed grouse extended their range into new regions as farm ing ventures failed, leaving more favorable habitats in their wake.

One of several subspecies, the range in Nebraska of the plains sharp-tailed grouse, Pedioecetes phasianellus jamesi, is confined largely to the 20,000-square-mile Sand Hills region.

The sharptail is known by many names, all descriptive, pin-tailed and sprig-tailed grouse, prairie hen and wild chicken being some of the more common ones. Early accounts often used prairie chicken and sharp-tail interchangeably, leading to considerable confusion in historical literature. After once holding a bird in the hand or watching its an tics oh a display ground, though, it is difficult to think of it as anything but a sharp-tailed grouse.

The two central tail feathers are about two inches longer than those on the side, giving rise to the sharptail's name. The sharp-tail's general appearance is that of a grayish brown, chicken-like bird. Adults weigh up to two pounds, with males slightly heavier than females. Pronounced, V-shaped markings cover the upper breast of both sexes. Super

SHARPTAIL RANGE

The sharptails' original range (top) was expansive, but as more brush land and prairie was cleared for agricultural use, they declined both in number and distribution. In isolated areas, though, they expanded their range as land-use changes created favorable habitats.

In Nebraska, the 20,000 square-mile Sand Hills region meets the sharptails' basic habitat require ments—unbroken expanses of grassland with small pockets of brushy cover. The expansion of irrigation will probably have a long-range, detrimental effect on grouse.

ficially, male and female plumages are identical. The tail is customarily spread in flight, revealing white feathers along the sides. Typical of all grouse, legs are feathered nearly to the toes with modified feathers along the toes forming natural "snowshoes" for winter.

Sharptails are strong fliers, often covering two or three miles in a single flight. The flight pattern, which cannot be noticeably distinguished from that of the prairie chicken, consists of a series of short bursts of strong wingbeats, interspersed with periods of gliding. While some band returns in Nebraska indicate movements up to 40 miles, most sharptails carry out their yearly activities within a radius of several miles.

Sharptails begin an elaborate courtship display in late February or early March that peaks in activity during late April and early May, although males may visit the grounds through much of June and occasionally into July.

Display grounds are usually from 100 feet across to an acre or more in size. These "dancing grounds" are generally located on a small hill or rise with little standing vegetation. Only the males dance, striving to claim small portions of the display ground, called territories, by intimidating other males with vocal and visual displays. Males begin arriving on the grounds about 45 minutes to one hour before sunrise and at the height of the breeding season display for as long as two or three hours, barring disturbances and depending on the weather. Activity is intense on bright sunny days and somewhat languid on cloudy, stormy days. Soaring hawks or passing coyotes may end the day's meeting early. Males also dance in late afternoon, but with reduced enthusiasm. While some display grounds may host as many as 50 or more males, an average ground in Nebraska holds about 10 birds. The same grounds are used year after year.

Early display activity consists of sparring and bluffing to determine individual territories on the dancing grounds. The most aggressive males usually command the center of the display area since it is preferred by the hens when they appear on the scene.

The actual sharptail display is an elaborate, somewhat comical combination of cooing calls (accomplished by the deflation of purple-tinged air sacs on the neck), rapid stamping of the feet, a mechanical clicking of the tail and headlong charges with wings drooping and tail erect.

Dr. D. G. Elliot, in 1897, provided an apt description of the whole affair.

The males, with ruffed feathers, spread tails, expanded air sacs on the neck, heads drawn toward the back and drooping wings (in fact the whole body puffed out as nearly as possible into the shape of a ball on two stunted supports), strut about in circles, not all going the same way, but passing and crossing each other in various angles. As the dance proceeds the excitement of the birds increases, they stoop toward the ground, twist and turn, make sudden rushes forward, stamping the ground with short quick beats of the feet, leaping over each other in their frenzy, then lowering their heads, exhaust the air in the sacs, producing a hollow sound that goes reverberating through the still air of the breaking day. Suddenly they become quiet, and walk about like creatures whose sanity is unquestioned, when some male again becomes possessed and starts off on a rampage, and the attack from which he suffers becomes infectious and all the other birds at once give evidence of having taken the same disease, which then proceeds with a regular development to the usual conclusion.

While the noises of an individual bird probably cannot be heard much more than 200 yards away, the combined din of a group of males displaying may be audible up to a mile away on a calm morning.

When hens visit the grounds, often in small groups, the males set up a terrific clatter of greetings. Seemingly unimpressed, the females wander coyly through the grounds, occasionally nipping at grass and seeds. At the female's pleasure, a male is selected and mating is accomplished with little show or fanfare.

By late May or early June, the hens no longer visit the grounds and males disperse, becoming quite inactive as if recuperating from the strenuous dancing chores. Much of their time is spent loafing in shady spots and browsing for insects and greenery.

By the end of April, most hens have sought out protected areas and have begun to fashion unpretentious hollows in which to lay their eggs. Thick clumps of grass or shrubby cover, on the cooler north- and east facing slopes, are preferred areas. The sharp-tailed grouse is not much of a nest builder, settling for a rough depression in ground vegetation, lined with whatever materials are readily available, usually grass, leaves and some feathers.

As soon as the clutch is complete, the hen assumes incubation duties. Clutch sizes range from seven to 17 eggs, but average

How They Compare

Feather patterns mark the species, sex and age

Sharptail Display

For several months during the spring male sharp-tails gather on dancing grounds for complex and ritualistic displays to attract hens for mating. The rapid, high-pitch cackling of the females, as they approach the grounds, is countered with leaps into the air by the males to advertise their exact location. Displaying cocks not only attract females, but maintain individual territories on the dance grounds. One of the most remarkable displays is the "tail-rattling" (center left). With neck extended, tail erect and wings held out from the body, the male begins his dance by rapidly stamping his feet. While dancing, either in place or on headlong runs, he produces a loud series of clicks with his tail feathers. At the height of the "cooing" display (bottom left) males inflate their purple-tinged air sacs while bowing to utter throaty calls. At the termination of that display air sacs deflate and the bird often assumes an alert posture (top center). Aerieal battles (bottom center) sometimes result over territorial disputes, but more commonly they are just "ritualized fight ing" (bottom right), where males try to intimidate each other. By the end of June, only tracks in the sand mark the site of one of North America's most remarkable phenomenons. Though comical, the sharptails' display is an integral part of its ecology.

about 12. The eggs are protectively camouflaged in olive, dark buff, or brown, usually with dark brown speckling, and measure about 1-4/5 by 1-1/5 inches.

Hens follow a regular routine during incubation. In the early morning the hen leaves the nest to feed for a short period, returning to spend the entire day on the nest until another short feeding period before dusk. Hens are easily flushed by disturbances early in the incubation period but as hatching time approaches they hold closely to the nest.

Finally, somewhere near the 23rd day, the eggs begin to hatch. In Nebraska, most sharptail chicks hatch within a short space of time, generally during the first three weeks of June.

Because most grouse nest during such a restricted period, heavy rains or other adverse weather can drastically affect hatching success and the population entering the fall. Unlike the bobwhite or pheasant, renesting is less persistent among sharptail. Generally 50 to 60 percent of the nesting hens bring off broods, that by late summer will number only six to eight birds.

The downy young are grayish yellow, with black and buff markings above and a pale greenish yellow below. Chicks are precocial and roam about the nest to feed soon after hatching.

Adult grouse are primarily vegetarians, especially during the spring months before abundant insect hatches. Fruits that cling to the shrubby and herbaceous plants over the winter months make up the bulk of the sharptail's food through the breeding and nesting period. The fleshy red "hips" of the wild rose are the most abundant fruit during this period and make up much of the sharp-tail's diet. Seeds from the different varieties of goldenrod also figure prominently in the diet. Wormwood, sedges, spurges, clover and bluegrass are taken later in the spring. Juniper berries and agricultural grains are used when available. Grasshoppers and leaf beetles are taken at every opportunity as the season warms.

Soon after hatching, the brood is led away from the nest. Characteristic of gallinaceous birds, only the mother provides parental care. Brood cover is not appreciably different from nesting cover; consequently summer territory rarely extends beyond a half-mile radius. Much of the brood's time is spent foraging for insects.

The young chicks grow rapidly. By 10 days they can fly a little and by four weeks are well feathered and proficient on the

wing, though they continue to react to danger by freezing in place.

Broods seem to prefer to roost in the heavy cover of hill country. At daybreak they move to wetland meadows to spend the entire daylight period. Most of the early morning hours are spent feeding. During the day they rest, preen, dust on pocket gopher mounds, mock display and feed sporadically. Late in the day the broods begin to feed actively again before moving back into the roosting cover.

When eight to 10 weeks of age, the chicks resemble small adults and begin to show some independence from the mother.

Food habits change markedly during the summer, both for adults and the young of the year. The adults' diet is primarily made up of clover found in meadows and wetland range sites. As the young grouse mature, their consumption of insects drops from a high of over 90 percent of their total diet at three weeks of age to a low of eight percent when they are 12 weeks old.

Leaves and flowers of succulent plants, dry seeds, and fleshy fruits are important food items for adults and are used more by the young as the summer passes. Although the diet of the sharptails may include 200 or 300 different items, the great bulk of their food is composed of less than a dozen.

Sharp-tailed grouse, young and adult alike, seem to have little need for open drinking water. Dew meets some of the water requirements, and the insect diet of the young, and the fruit and green vegetation taken by all age groups provide moisture when free water is not available. Except as water abundance affects plant growth, it does not seem to be an important feature of prairie grouse habitat, even though some observers have reported grouse using windmill overflows. Ranchers often mention that they have seen grouse perched on the edges of stock tanks.

Flock size increases in the fall, and a rather loose social structure is maintained. Young male grouse of the year, virtually identical to the adults by September, gather with adult cocks to frequent the display grounds. Though no mating occurs during the fall, males congregate on the grounds and participate in a half hearted version of spring activities.

Food is abundant during the autumn months and little time need be spent to sustain sharptails. Birds near agricultural lands may take to foraging in the grain fields while those on wild lands feast on the natural crops of summer. Greenery, such as clover, and insects become less important in the fall diet. The fruit of the wild rose is again the most common food, along with the fruits of plum, poison ivy, ground cherry, nightshade and snow berry. Smartweed and dandelion are also important crops for the sharptail.

By late fall and early winter, sharptails gather into large flocks. Some research indicates that flocks are still segregated by sexes. Groups of 50 to 100 are not uncommon. Winter snows change their sedentary life of autumn as abundant food and cover diminshes. More time must be spent search ing for food and desirable roosting sites.

Seton, in the late 1800s, noted this change in grouse habit and wrote: 'They now act more like a properly adapted perching bird, for they spend a large part of their time in the highest trees, flying from one to another and perching, browsing, or walking about among the branches with perfect ease, and evidently at this time preferring an arboreal to a terrestrial life."

Night roosts on the ground are still used by the sharptails, though, the heaviest of cover being sought for this purpose. When deep powdery snows cover traditional roost ing sites, sharptails bury themselves in drifts, roosting in ruffed-grouse fashion. There may be some local movement to the more protected wood and shrub-lined rivers and streams during severe winters.

During the winter months, sharptails subsist mainly on the buds of the poplar and fruits of the wild rose. Grain is taken when ever available. Plum, goldenrod, poison ivy and juniper berries are consumed in substantial quantities.

While most authorities agree that predation is not an important limiting factor for sharp-tailed grouse, they are taken by flesh eating mammals and birds. During the winter months when sufficient food and satisfactory habitat are in short supply, some grouse are victims of predators as well as disease and parasites. These mortality factors are probably most prevalent when birds are stressed by the natural elements.

Cooper's and sharp-shinned hawks are probably the greatest avian threat to the grouse, but most research indicates predation by raptors is uncommon. Grouse may be more vulnerable when snow roosting or displaying. Foxes and coyotes occasionally take adult birds but are not significant predators. During the nesting season, skunks, crows, bull snakes and ground squirrels destroy some nests.

Sharptails, like most domestic and wild animals, are host to a number of diseases and parasites but rarely are any of them significant

"An obvious fact about both hunted and unhunted species is that there is a limit to the population level that may be reached. This level is almost always controlled by available habitat. The excess life produced is lost to such direct decimation factors as predators, disease and parasites, weather and accidents. Predators will take whatever prey is available. The factor controlling prey availability is habitat. It is common knowledge among anyone concerned with wildlife that the way to fight predation is by improving the habitat—not by killing predators."

Sharp-tailed grouse have been with us for millions of years, and have weathered the worst of the elements and natural enemies pitted against them. Only man seems capable of deciminating their numbers. If we can only realign our values and priorities to include the preservation of sharp-tailed grouse habitat, each spring will ring with their frantic dancing just as surely as the Sand Hills around them will flow green again.

Prairie Chicken

This grouse of the prairie suffered under the market hunter's gun and spreading bite of the settler's plow

EARLY colonists became acquainted with the heath hen, an Eastern subspecies of the prairie chicken, as soon as they arrived in Massachusetts and Virginia. As pioneers filtered over the Eastern mountain ranges and onto the plains, they encountered prairie chickens in numbers as abundant as "the sands of the seashore." Early literature abounds with accounts of tremendous prairie chicken populations. Predictably, man moved hastily to utilize and abuse the plentiful fowl. Reports from market hunters' day books are striking. In Iowa, three men killed 410 prairie chickens in three hours on one 80-acre field. Roosts in Missouri were reported to extend for more than a mile. Other accounts tell of birds in trees as thick as blackbirds, their weight often breaking the branches. In Nebraska, one early writer recalled that 300,000 prairie chickens were shipped out of the southeastern and eastern part of the state in 1874 alone. The demand for grouse in Eastern markets, the development of efficient railway shipping, and the willingness of individuals to pillage a seemingly unlimited resource were factors that combined to dramatically reduce the prairie chicken population. Encroaching agriculture, resulting in the reduction of suitable grouse habitat, proved the final blow. By the early years of the 20th Century, prairie chickens had declined to only remnant populations.

The original breeding range of the greater prairie chicken, Tympanuchus cupidopinnatus, occupied an area bounded on the east by western Pennsylvania; on the north by southern Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota; on the west by eastern Nebraska, Kansas and Oklahoma; on the south by northern Texas, southern Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois and northern Kentucky. Present distribution in the original range includes only isolated pockets in Missouri, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Kansas and Nebraska. Following the plow west and north into once unsuitable areas, the chicken's range expanded and substantial populations are now found in other states, including Nebraska. While limited agricultural production proved beneficial for prairie chickens in these new areas, extensive conversion to crop production in former range reduced the grassland habitat below the level required for their survival.

In Nebraska, insufficient winter food seems to limit prairie chicken expansion. Its primary range is located on the southern and eastern borders of the Sand Hills where grain is available. In areas where the conversion from grass to cropland exceeds 60 percent, the chicken has been almost entirely eliminated. In southeast Nebraska, several isolated flocks of prairie chickens continue to survive where small pockets of grassland exist among the rolling cropland.

There are three living prairie chicken subspecies. The greater prairie chicken, which occurs in Nebraska, is the most abundant. The other two subspecies, the Attwater's prairie chicken of southeastern Texas and the lesser prairie chicken of the south central states occur in restricted ranges and limited numbers.

The greater prairie chicken is slightly larger than the sharptail. Males average a little over two pounds and females about one pound, 10 ounces.

Males are predominantly rufous brown, broken by cross-barring over most of the body. The breast and belly are uniformly barred with brown and white. Males have tufts of stiff, elongated, dark-colored pinnae, or ear feathers, that stand erect during spring displays. Under each pinnae is a loose patch of brightly colored orange skin called an air sac, or tympani. These sacs are capable of

Once there were four North American subspecies of prairie chicken (top). The heath hen of the northeast is now extinct. The Attwater's and lesser subspecies occur only in limited areas and decreasing numbers. For now, the greater prairie chicken seems secure.

The eastern portion of the Sand Hills is the primary prairie chicken range in Nebraska. Isolated populations still occur in parts of the south east and southwest. Over most of the state they are holding their own, but compared with the sharp tail, their future is dark.

great expansion. Males also have fleshy, orange-colored eyebrows. The tail is short and rounded, accounting for the colloquial name "squaretail." The under-tail coverts are white with some brown spots. Legs are feathered to the toes, and feet are more yellowish than those of the sharptail. Females are superficially identical but have shorter pinnae and lack the air sacs and orange eyebrows. The tail feathers of females are barred and the males only slightly barred or solid brown.

The commencement of the spring booming season in late February marks the breaking up of winter flocks into smaller groups of separate sexes. While hens linger on the fringes of display grounds, males begin a most spectacular natural phenomenon. On display areas similar to those of the sharptail, called "booming grounds," each male vies for favorite territory which females will later visit for mating.

Males arrive on the wing or walk to the grounds shortly before sunrise. The morning performance generally lasts 11/2 hours or more. Unlike the sharptail's show, the prairie chicken's display is largely an individual effort unless one bird becomes involved with another in a territorial dispute. The display begins with short, headlong runs terminated with abrupt stops and rapid stamping of the feet. During much of the display, males erect their pinnae like warbonnets and inflate their air sacs until they look like small oranges. With wings drooping and tail spread to its full extent, the male produces a resonant booming sound for which he is known. The call is a series of three notes, each a bit higher in pitch and likened to the sound made by blowing across the open neck of a bottle. The air sacs are then rapidly deflated. At this point the bird may jump a foot or more into the air, uttering hen-like calls and whirling in what has been described as an attack of epilepsy combined with St. Vitus' dance. With heads lowered, they run to in timidate neighboring males and may actually engage in aerial battles, with a few lost feathers the only injury.

By early May, most hens have begun to nest. Heavy grass cover is preferred for the hollowed-out depression. An average of 12 olive- or tan-colored eggs flecked with brown comprise the clutch. The first eggs are pipped on about the 23rd day of incubation. Hens occasionally speed the process by removing bits of shell with their bills. Hatching is well synchronized, the time from first pipping to emergence of the last chick often being less than one hour.

Young spend their first few hours near the nest and begin feeding on insects almost immediately. During their first weeks, more than 90 percent of their diet is made up of insects. The feeding habits of adults are some what similar to those of the sharptail, but they rely more on grass and weed seeds. During the autumn and winter, agricultural grains become important. Shrubby fruits, while important, are probably not used extensively.

When the chicks' aptitude for flying is developed and they are able to feed regularly by themselves, the broods tend to move to higher ground nearer grain fields. At about eight to 12 weeks, broods begin to break up, and by September, the old cocks and the males of the year begin to congregate on the booming grounds again. Flocks made up of both sexes often unite during the day to loaf and feed.

Autumn brings about a great change in diet as animal foods assume secondary importance and grains, wild fruits and seeds be come available and are heavily utilized. Rose, smartweed, wild flax and clover are the most important fall foods of the prairie chicken. Late fall flocks of 20 to 30 chickens are common, and 50- to 100-strong flocks still occur, though they in no way approach their former abundance.

Unlike sharptail habitat, woody cover is important to prairie chickens only during severe weather. In areas where natural shrubs and herbaceous cover are limited, shelter belts become important components of prairie chicken winter habitat.

Winter is a critical link in the prairie chicken's annual life cycle. Cultivated grain becomes a staple food and dense stands of grass a necessity for survival. The prairie chicken's winter regime consists of feeding during early morning and late evening and loafing during midday.

Adverse weather, disease and parasites, predation and natural accidents all take a toll on the prairie chicken's population, but as with the sharptail, land-use practices have ultimate control over their destiny. The decline of native grasslands and shelterbelts, and clean cropping practices often spell the end of local populations.

Since his first meeting with the prairie chicken on the East Coast, man has been the determining factor in prairie chicken abundance, first through direct means by hunting, and now through the indirect way in which he manipulates habitat. If prairie chickens survive, it will probably be in spite of man's actions, not because of them.

Research provided alternatives for preserving prairie grouse; land-use will ultimately determine its destiny

Management

THE MANAGEMENT of any wild species is a discouraging matter at best, normally in competition with other land uses. Even on public lands, the voices of various interests figure prominently in management decisions. Seldom are these decisions based solely upon the most beneficial perpetuation or maximum production of wildlife. The welfare and proliferation of wildlife has all too often been relegated to a position of secondary importance.

If wildlife management on public land is discouraging, its counterpart on private land is disheartening. Though state and federal biologists may advise, the landowner has the final word on how he utilizes his land. His decisions, by necessity, are based on the economics of his operation.

The most serious, long-term threat to existing grouse populations is the secondary resurgence of mass conversion of grasslands to intensified agricultural use. Agriculture's initial surge in the late 1800s proved beneficial to grouse, but as the ratio of cropland over grassland increased, they were eliminated from much of their original range. The development of modern agricultural techniques, such as fertilization and irrigation, make possible the tilling of previously unarable lands and encourage further encroachment on native grasslands.

The long-range effect of pivot irrigation in the Sand Hills on grouse populations is being watched with considerable interest. Though the initial increase in cropland could provide a valuable winter food supplement, the removal of large tracts of natural grass land habitat could be detrimental to grouse numbers. Development of the Sand Hills could prove to be a small-scale duplication of the land-use policies that forced grouse from much of their range in the 1800s. The eastern edge of the Sand Hills, Nebraska's   primary prairie chicken range, would be the most drastically altered.

The most immediate threat to prairie grouse in Nebraska though, is overgrazing. Most researchers agree that livestock abuse of grasslands can be the major contributing factor to low numbers of grouse in local areas. Overgrazing undeniably reduces the number of grouse an area can support.

Bob Wood, a former Nebraska Game and Parks Commission biologist who studied the prairie grouse, noted that good range management is also good grouse management.

'The primary concern of ranchers is producing cattle for a living and not raising grouse . . . [but] . . . good range management produces more beef and more grouse than does overgrazing . . . range studies and research are providing ranchers with information they can use to produce more beef on their grassland while keeping it in better condition . . . Nebraskans can have their grouse and eat their beef, too," Wood commented.

Prairie fires have always been a natural element of grassland ecology and a significant influence on grouse numbers. When property, livestock or human life is jeopardized, fires must justifiably be considered something less than desirable. However, the vegetative diversity of grasslands, so important to the survival of many wildlife species, has always been maintained by prairie fires. Fire rejuvenates the prairie by encouraging an increase in forbs—important wildlife food. It removes dead growth from pastureland and creates vegetatively diverse islands that meet such life requirements as loafing sites, nesting cover and winter feeding areas. Generally speaking, limited and controlled prairie fires are advantageous to grouse populations.

Hunting, both legal and illegal, can have some influence on grouse populations. The regulation of hunting pressure is basically the only tool that the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission has to encourage prairie grouse proliferation on private land. By manipulating season dates, bag limits, and hunting areas, a renewable resource can be utilized without threatening its viability or continued existence.

Sighting counts made by rural mail carriers as well as data gathered by commission personnel from spring display ground counts, summer brood counts and the previous season's hunter success survey are compiled and used as guidelines in setting the fall season. The primary concern is the preservation of the prairie grouse, and hunter harvest is permitted only after it is determined that no detrimental effect will result.

Most researchers agree that up to 60 percent of the fall populations could be har vested without affecting the breeding core necessary to replenish the population. Estimates in Nebraska indicate that only four to five percent of the population is harvested by hunters each year. Annually, this amounts to somewhere between 40,000 to 60,000 grouse, in a ratio of three sharptails to each prairie chicken taken. Degradation of the grouse's habitat, not managed hunting, will be the factor that determines the future of the prairie grouse.

Diseases and parasites afflicting the grouse, predation, and weather are other factors limiting grouse populations and points to be considered in the mangement of this prairie bird. Under normal conditions, diseases and parasites are of little influence in determining grouse abundance. Predation and adverse weather conditions significantly affect grouse populations only when coupled with inadequate habitat.

Since 1958, research biologists in Nebraska have conducted studies into all segments of the prairie grouse's natural history and life requirements. Early work dealt with cover mapping to determine vegetative changes in habitat, establishing more effective techniques of estimating population trends, and composition, development of trapping and tagging techniques, and the initiation of productivity studies.

From trapped and banded grouse, daily and seasonal movements have come more clearly into focus. Methods of estimating population densities have contributed to a closer correlation between grouse abundance and the harvest the population can withstand.

Later studies, dealing with food habits and habitat requirements, will probably have the most far-reaching implications in prairie grouse management. Exhaustive studies of the seasonal food preferences and plant types required for each phase of the grouse's life cycle are now complete and being analyzed for practical application.

Wildlife researchers have probed the previously unknown requirements of the prairie grouse and pointed the direction for management to follow. The infinitely more difficult job of implementing these guide lines now faces governmental officials and concerned private individuals. The destiny of the prairie grouse hangs in the balance.

A renewable resource, grouse can be harvested

Hunting

THROUGH modern management practices, populations of the plains sharp tailed grouse, and to a lesser degree the greater prairie chicken, have stabilized over much of their original and expanded range. In some areas, grouse have come back in sufficient numbers to warrant strictly controlled hunting seasons. Nebraska is one of only a handful of states where the hunting of either the sharptail or prairie chicken is legal and one of two that permit the hunting of both species.

Prior to the 1900s, virtually no hunting controls were applied to grouse in Nebraska. By 1926, limits were set at 10 birds per day and a season was initiated. In 1929, the limit was reduced to five. Finally, in 1930, the season was closed. By 1950, grouse numbers had recovered enough to justify a limited two-day season with a two-bird limit. With the exception of 1954, when the season was once again closed, bag limits have remained at two, sometimes three birds, but season lengths have grown from several days to a week, and currently to one month.

Each year, new hunters take to the sandy ridges for grouse. Many neophytes, and a surprising number of old-timers, spend count less hours afield only to end the day with discontented grumblings about unplentiful grouse. The seasoned hunter, however, seldom falls victim to the same affliction. Having learned the history and habits of the grouse, he derives pleasure from being afield and puts more fowl in the kitchen.

By studying the grouse's daily and seasonal movements, food preferences and general behavior as presented briefly on preced ing pages, and in texts available at libraries and bookstores, aesthetic appreciation for the quarry and hunting success both receive a shot in the arm.

Linking random, seemingly unrelated details together and applying them to hunting conditions can help put the hunter where the grouse are.

During early morning, when grouse customarily feed, hunt the areas abundant with the bird's preferred foods. In autumn, patches of wild rose, snowberry, poison ivy and plum are good bets. Later, during the heat of day, seek out loafing areas—north facing slopes—that offer shrubby shade. Hunt near the tops of ridges where grouse best benefit from cooling breezes.

During severe weather, hunt areas that offer protection from the elements—shelter belts, brushy areas and dense grass.

When you have that first bird in hand, apply the fly fisherman's trick of "matching the hatch". Open the crop and look at what the bird has been feeding on. Chances are that other grouse in the area were eating the same foods. Take note where the plant foods are common, and then, during the next feed ing period, hunt those areas.

Gunning is the avocation of trapshooters, but knowledge of and admiration for game animals should be priorities for every sportsman.

The Environmental Revolution Enters A Crucial Phase

Between the idea and reality, Between the motion and the act, Falls the shadow. — T.S. Eliot

THE ENVIRONMENTAL REVOLUTION, now four years old, is entering a new phase.

We've had the dawn of awareness, the clamor for reform, a spate of legislation. Now comes the time of working a lot of bright hopes and plans through to fruition.

As William D. Ruckelshaus, head of the Environmental Protection Agency, put it recently: "We're in a gap be tween the time of commitment and progress visible to the man in the street."

Whose job is this critical new phase - and what are the chances of success?

Cliches aside, it seems clear that this new chapter in the Environmental Revolution inescapably involves everybody — government, business (both industrial and agricultural), communities, organized conservation groups, and citizens ... and that success hinges on the degree of coordinated effort among them.

What are our objectives and responsibilities?

Laws give part of the blueprint. Our target date for major achievements in air pollution is 1977. The new Water Pollution Control Act sets deadlines of 1977 (for application of "best practicable" control technology) and 1983 (for use of "best available" technology).

Timetables on the abatement of the other pollutions are less explicit. The 1972 Noise Control Act gave the Environmental Protection Agency 18 months to promulgate

standards for built-in noise reduction in all kinds of mechanical equipment, but from there on it's up to localities to muffle the din of equipment in use. Progress in solid waste management is primarily up to the nation's 15,000 communities. Reclamation of strip-mined land awaits definitive Federal and state action. Radiation, the last of the pollution categories emphasized by the Council on Environmental Quality in its 1972 report, is largely an anticipated problem — one area where we can apply an ounce of prevention instead of tons of cure.

Progress is not going to be automatic in any of these areas. Laws can be nullified by anemic appropriations and bureaucratic cowardice. Enforcement can be thwarted by crafty foot-dragging, specious bellyaching and obfuscation of facts and figures.

We've already seen some strenuous efforts to undermine the National Environmental Policy Act. Fortunately that law is a hard thing to impugn because its focal injunction is so simple: We should look before we leap. The unarguability of this is the law's strength. But despite its simplicity, it imposes tough restrictions in a society where commercial profit, without regard to side effects, has been sacrosanct justification for so many activities.

We've already heard a chorus of lamentation that environmental cleanup will cripple industry. Even some usually responsible publications have peddled the myth of "hundreds" of factories being closed. (A New York Times invitation to industrial spokesmen in key states to name three of these "hundreds" of afflicted enterprises yielded "uhhhhhhhh—s" rather than specifics.) The fact is, of course, that an enterprise that will be bankrupted by pollution control costs is an enterprise that by its own definition has survived only by virtue (or vice) of polluting — a role hardly acceptable to its competitors or the public.

We've already seen the Administration and Congress crawfishing on needed regulation. An example was the way the issue of airplane noise, the most ubiquitous and annoying of the pollutants, was finessed in the 1972 Noise Control Act. The Federal Aviation Agency, handmaiden of the airlines, didn't want to yield jurisdiction over noise, and the EPA (in what may have been the first time a government agency didn't grab for more territory) demurred at accepting responsibility.

Obfuscation? The air pollution director of a large western city where coal-burning power plants ride high in the saddle solemnly assured me: "Most of our sulphur dioxide comes from automobiles ..." — which is, of course, nonsense. We've all heard some industrialist say that "tech nology" was lacking to cope with his water pollution — which hasn't been true since God invented the pond.

Another obstructive tactic is to imply that the environmentally aware are some sort of "elitist" minority, where actually they speak for a universal desire: an agreeable standard of life, measured in physical terms that are a far commoner denominator than money.

Progress will depend a lot on how quickly people rid themselves of the notion that government — Federal, state or local — left to its own devices, will do the job. Government is not a self-propelling mechanism. Just as it gets every cent it has from citizens' pockets, so it gets impetus only from citizen pressures.

Industry, left to its own devices, is not going to bring about the Environmental Millennium. For one thing, industry bears only one part of the responsibility for environmental problems. Secondly, while corporations may make impressive gestures for the sake of public relations, management's basic legal obligation is to make money for shareholders. While "corporate responsibility" in a social sense is growing and is helpful, it would be unwise to place the burden of resource-use decisions on 300,000 individual industrial enterprises. In fairness to all, there have to be uniform ground rules, based on a citizen consensus.

"The cause of environment is one which the citizens have made. Citizens identified problems, organized to influence government actions, made themselves heard in public hearings, brought actions before administrative agencies and in the courts, and helped the press interpret their concerns ..."

Those words came, a full two years ago, not from any agitator in the "conservation lobby," but from the White House's ecological chaplain, Russell E. Train, chairman of the Council on Environmental Quality. When an occupant of public office thus virtually solicits citizen pressure, it seems worth hearkening to.

"But," still comes the lament from many a citizen, "what can one lone person do?" The answer of course is that there are a lot of things an individual not only can but should do. Many people might begin by simply finding out where their local sewage plant is and how adequate a job it's doing — rather than gazing at the river and mourning its pollution. Or finding out which local air polluters have been granted variances and why — rather than bemoaning murky skies. Environmental regulation now is a succession of public hearings. Any candid legislator will confirm that the presence of citizen observers at such hearings has a powerful effect on actions that are taken.

Every two years citizens get their say at the polls. In electoral dynamics, the "environmental vote" stands where organized labor and other historic minority movements stood a generation or two back: it can't win battles alone — it has to pick its shots carefully and try to be the pivotal force amid other issues.

In last November's election, the power of the "environmental vote" reached a new high. Of about 60 gubernatorial and Congressional candidates on which environmental interest was focused, some 45 won, and in a number of cases the environmental vote was manifestly decisive.

But policy questions arising by the week can't be shaped with biennial nudges. A typical Congressman has 400,000 constituents, and if even one percent of them tried to register their views with him as individuals, the result would be useless babel. That is where conservation organizations come in as vital conduits of public sentiment to the halls of government. Organization pressures have figured critically in major achievements of the Environmental Revolution: air and water pollution legislation, the blocking of the SST, the deferral of the Alaska pipeline, the halting of the Florida barge canal and the Everglades jetport, and a score of other items. In the new phase of the Environmental Revolution, conservation organizations, such as the National Wildlife Federation, will continue to spearhead the vital citizen pressures that Russell Train bespoke.

The breadth of the environmental movement was dramatized at the United Nations Conference on the Human Environment at Stockholm last June. In the face of some opinion that environmental quality was too sophisticated a concept for the underdeveloped "Third World," delegates of 113 nations participated, representing over 90 percent of the world's people. There was remarkable consensus on global environmental problems; on environmental responsibilities between and among nations; and on a program of specific reparatory and protective steps. Though the Soviet Union boycotted Stockholm for purely political reasons, the conference's impetus was quickly evidenced in the October agreement under which selected Russian and United States cities will be linked in environmental research observations.

The most important aspect of the Environmental Revolution's new phase is the rapid emergence of the real environmental problems. The pollution abatement with which we have been preoccupied is only the "dirty dishes" prelude to the real task of putting our environmental house in order.

Thrusting themselves upon us are questions of far larger and more complex dimensions: land use, resource management, energy production, public transportation, population stabilization, and the broad issue of Growth. Air and water pollution, as well as the complex problems involving the best use of natural resources, are graphically summarized in the 1973 EQ Index.

Threatened energy shortages, the fuel squeeze, and the ineffectiveness of recycling efforts are telling us something: that we must stop gobbling resources as if they were limitless and make some rational plans for stretching them through the eternity to which we pay lip service.

And we can't go on much longer playing ostrich about the population bomb, and looking on advocates of population limitation as mere eccentrics or evil abortion-promoters. Living space around the globe and in this country is finite: humanity can't go on multiplying exponentially without nullifying the environmental progress for which we're struggling. Limiting population is as valid an issue as limiting the number of people allowed to crowd into an auditorium so they won't all perish in a holocaust. The issue is whether the problem is handled calmly and reasonably or via panic button, strife and misery.

Nor is the question of Growth nearly as abstruse as many people have suggested. It's entirely a matter of whether you define growth in terms of quantity or quality. In terms of quantities, the notion of endless growth, in a finite world, is absurd. In terms of quality, the potential is indeed infinite.

This next "generation" of environmental problems is not going to wait for the next generation of us. It's here. The shadow that T. S. Eliot sketched is upon us.

the Dunes

The National Wildlife Federation's Fourth Environmental Quality Index stands at 54.4 (100 being the ideal environment). It's down from 55.5 scored by the Third EQ Index published in the fall of 1971. We are still sufferiin air and water pollution has slowed. Hopefully, the Fifth EQ Index, to be published a year from now, will show for the first time that we are gaining — not losing — in the fight against pollution.

Not an exact measurement, the EQ Index represents the collective judgment of the National Wildlife Federation. It reflects the quality of seven EQ factors, their relative importance in the ecosystem, and year-to-year changes.

Overall U.S. Environmental Quality in 1973 is an uneven situation which Gladwin Hill describes. His conclusion: To bring all seven categories into the "GAIN" side will require the cooperation of everyone.

Noio that youve seen what's happening to our frail ecosystem, if you really want to help ...ng substantial losses in six of seven EQ categories, but the rate of increase

IF YOU WILL MAKE small changes in your life-style:

Buy a smaller car next time; small no longer means "cheap."

Walk, or bicycle, instead of driving on short errands.

Don't buy all-terrain vehicles; people had fun before they were invented.

These environmental actions take no extra time or effort:

Don't burn gasoline with a higher than necessary octane rating (All 1972 and 1973 cars run on regular gas). Put pop tops inside the can; fish and diving birds die if they swallow them. Check weather report for rain before watering lawn or garden.

Don't tell service station to "fill 'er up" — gas expands and spills.

Bend the arm down on the toilet tank float to use less water with same efficiency.

Use a nozzle with a shut-off control when washing the car.

Environmental action suggestions for homeowners:

Next time, buy the quietest lawnmower available.

When remodeling, remember fluorescent lighting is more efficient, cooler.

For car owners:

Get your engine tuned every 6,000 miles.

If you change your own oil, take it for recycling to the service station where you buy gas regularly.

For homemakers:

Send old toys, furniture, clothing and appliances to non-profit organizations for repair and reuse.

Use cloth napkins and towels.

Buy low-phosphate laundry detergents.

Ask grocer to stock returnable bottles.

When you have a choice, don't buy products packaged in plastic containers.

For the younger crowd:

Start a community recycling center through your school — aluminum is worth $200 a ton.

Stack your family's newspapers for recycling.

Grow a garden; fresh vegetables are great.

Pick up discarded returnable bottles; deposits average five cents each.

Drive smoothly — fast acceleration is big gas waster.

If you're a letter writer: Find out which local industries are granted pollution control variances — and why; then contact local papers and stations.

Write newspapers, television and radio stations calling attention to polluting industries.

Write newspapers and other local media, recognizing businesses and industries that have cleaned up their operations.

You can make maximum impact by joining a local conservation group:

Suggest the group investigate the local sewage treatment plant. Is it adequate now? Will it be adequate in 5 years? Work to end industry domination of air and water pollution control boards. Enlist the aid of other civic groups in special ecology projects.

Encourage the school board to support effective environmental education. Support family planning clinics and tax incentives for small families.

Order EQ reprints for your friends, your child's classroom, and members of clubs you belong to.

One reprint of the EQ Index may be ob- tained free by writing to Educational Ser- vicing, National Wildlife Federation, 1412 16th St. N.W., Washington, D.C. 20036.

Orders for additional quantities of the 4th Annual EQ Index should be sent to Na tional Wildlife Federation, 1412 16th St. N.W., Washington, D.C. 20036. Payment should be enclosed with order.

The Sand Hills are unique on this continent; only a thin vegetative blanket holds them down

A VISITOR who drives the length of Nebraska along Interstate 80 can't help but be impressed by the flatness of the land around him, but he misses many scenic parts of the state unless he leaves the broad valley of the Platte. North of the valley, he can follow one of the roads leading through Nebraska's Sand Hills, the largest single area of dunes in North America.

Covering more than 19,000 square miles, the roughly diamond shaped Sand Hills region extends 130 miles south from the Nebraska South Dakota border and stretches 265 miles from west to east. Crests of the dunes are more than 4,000 feet above sea level in the western part of the region from near Alliance to Ashby, but become steadily lower toward the east. North of Burwell, the altitude of dunes along the eastern fringe of the Sand Hills is about 2,400 feet, a drop of 1,600 feet in 75 miles, or about 21 feet per mile. Along the northeastern edge, the border of the Sand Hills is indistinct, but around most of the region, the change in landscape Ls abrupt.

Early travelers in central Nebraska considered the Sand Hills a desolate and dangerous region. Explorers who visited the edge of the Sand Hills regarded the vast expanse unfit for cultivation and not at all suitable for agricultural development. Reports of some of the early explorers referred to the Sand Hills as the "Great American Desert," and pioneers who crossed the territory during the 1840s seldom ventured into the region.

While the dunes may all look the same at first glance, there are three main kinds of dune shapes. The most striking are long, continuous, massive ridges almost a mile across and as much as 10 miles long, which slope gently toward the north or northwest and more steeply toward the south or south east. Not all the massive dunes, however, are long ridges. Some are almost circular in shape. Many of these individual dunes stand 200 to 250 feet above the flat, linear depressions or irregular hollows that separate them from neighboring ridges, and some are even higher. Wild Horse Ridge, for example, in Grant County about seven miles south of Ashby, crests almost 400 feet above the pond just north of it. These massive sand ridges make up most ot the duneland across central and southwest Cherry County, southeastern Sheridan County, Grant County, and much of Hooker and Arthur counties. They are much larger and seem to be much older than the other types. Stabilized by prairie grasses, their characteristic shapes have been smoothed through time by rainfall. Some of them show gullies on their steeper faces; others have been reshaped and pitted by wind.

These massive sand ridges follow an east-west trend through the middle of the belt where they are primarily found, but toward the west they bend southwest, and east of the Snake River they head south east. Most of the Sand Hills lakes are in the interdune troughs and hollows between these great dune ridges.

Dunes of the second type occur primarily in the southeastern part of the Sand Hills. The dunes of Logan County, the Bessey Division of the Nebraska National Forest at Halsey, and most of Blaine and Loup counties, are narrow ridges rising to a height of about 40 feet, elongating northwest to southeast. Some of these long, parallel dunes seem to have been reshaped by wind-blown sand from the larger dunes, but most of them are unrelated to the big ones.

and few others flow out of the region. Those that do are supplied almost entirely by groundwater and have a remarkably steady flow. The sand blanket is extremely permeable, and much of the rain and snow that falls on the Sand Hills each year soaks downward quickly. In some places the water table is high enough to intersect the land surface between dunes, resulting in wet meadows or lakes.

The groundwater that feeds the North Loup and Middle Loup rivers and their main tributaries, the Calamus and Dismal, flows steadily and smoothly from the sand, but in some places springs trickle and seeps ooze out of the river banks. Springs show up particularly where rivers have removed all loose sand from underlying bedrock and are working their way down into the Ogallala Formation, an older, compact layer of silty sand lying beneath most of central Nebraska. Ogallala sand and silt were deposited as a gently sloping sheet across Nebraska by streams that drained eastward from the front ranges of the Rocky Mountains perhaps five to 10 million years ago. Because the Ogallala sediments are more compact than the overlying sands, they retard the downward movement of water, so wherever the contact zone of the Ogallala Formation with the sand above it is higher than river level, water emerges from springs along the banks.

The extremely steady flow of the North and Middle Loup rivers stands in contrast to that of streams like the South Loup, which receive little groundwater and depend on runoff for flow. During drought years, the North and Middle Loup rivers supply a large amount of water to the lower reaches of the 52 Platte River. Even though the total amount of precipitation received each year is not great, ranging from 16 inches each year near Alliance to 24 inches near Burwell, a large amount of water is stored in and under the region's sand. The stream's discharge is thus in equilibrium with recharge from rain and snow.

Geologists have long wondered how such a large mass of stabilized dunes could have come into exist ence in the middle of Nebraska, and several have speculated as to their origin. The hypotheses are difficult to verify, however, because nature has made it difficult to investigate the Nebraska Sand Hills. One of the best methods of investigation is to study the materials that lie beneath, but the dunes blanket the surface so effectively that it's only along the cut banks of the few rivers that have eroded trenches NEBRASKAland through the Sand Hills where a person can get a glimpse of what the dunes rest on. Test holes drilled recently by the Conservation and Survey Division of the University of Nebraska have aided immeasurably in learning more about what lies beneath them. They have confirmed, for example, that the sand is much thicker in the southern part of the Sand Hills.

Large dunes and dune fields can form only under a few kinds of conditions. The principal requirements are an abundant source of loose sand and strong winds that come mostly from one direction. These conditions can be found in deserts, along some coastal regions, and along the floodplains of some large rivers, particularly rivers that carry water from melting glaciers. Speculation about the origin of the Nebraska Sand Hills is based on one or another of these possibilities.

The first theory about the origin of the Sand Hills is offered by Dr. Alvin Lugn, professor of geology at the University of Nebraska until his retirement in 1962. Dr. Lugn believes the dunes were formed during the last glaciation directly from the sandstone of the Ogallala Formation beneath central Nebraska along with silt blanketing much of the state south and east of the Sand Hills, ana that the region was at that time a vast desert. He argues that strong northerly winds which must have accompanied the glacial ice were capable of building dunes, and that the Sand Hills were produced by them.

Another geologist, Dr. H. T. U. Smith, formerly of the University of Kansas and now in Massachusetts, studied the Nebraska Sand Hills along with other dune regions of the world for more than 25 years. He compares the Nebraska dunes with great dune fields elsewhere in the world and finds that the large, massive dunal ridges are, in form and size, most like some of the transverse dunes of the north central Sahara. From this he concludes that the large dune ridges in the Sand Hills probably formed under desert conditions with strong northerly winds. He believes that these conditions must have existed around the ice during the early part of the last glaciation about 25,000 to 60,000 years ago. Modification of some of the large dunes to form the smaller, northwest-southeast ridges took place later during the same glaciation, perhaps 15,000 years ago, according to his interpretation. The non-oriented dunes and blowouts are even more recent.

Not all geologists agree with Smith and Lugn on the origin of the Sand Hills. Nebraska's former State Geologist, E. C. Reed, does not accept the hypotheses that desert conditions existed in the Sand Hills because other deposits in the state, such as loess, are considered to be the same age but show no evidence of a dry climate. Just the opposite. He feels they indicate cool and moist conditions on the High Plains during the last glaciation. He offers as an alternative suggestion that streams in the Sand Hills region deposited sand in their valleys and that strong northerly winds accompanying advancing glacial ice then produced the dunes from these valley deposits. The massive dune ridges, according to Reed's hypothesis, were formed parallel to the river valleys from which the sand came.

Recent studies have produced evidence that the headwaters of the North Platte River once drained northeastward across the area that is today's Sand Hills. The region was trenched by this valley, its position now marked by coarse gravel along modern rivers such as the Middle Loup, North Loup and Calamus rivers wherever they cross its former course. This river, which headed in Wyoming in the Laramie Range of the Rocky Mountains, carried vast amounts of sediment across north-central Nebraska until it was diverted southeastward into its present position about 700,000 years ago during an early glaciation. At that time, its valley through the Sand Hills region be came filled with sand, burying the gravel beds that had been laid down in the bottom of the valley and its environs. The lower sediments exposed in cuts along both the Middle Loup and Dismal rivers are unquestionably deposits laid down by a river, and drilling samples studied by James B. Swine hart of the Conservation and Survey Division suggest that much of the region beneath the dunes may be composed of similar stratified sediments.

That the dunes of the Sand Hills must have blown up from this sand plain is a fair conclusion, but whether warm desert conditions existed when the first dunes began to accumulate is a question still unanswered. Certainly the large massive dunes resemble desert dunes more than those of any other environment. Past experiences during the 1930s show that the grass cover which binds the dune sand together can be destroyed within a few years when precipitation is lower than normal, and that blow outs develop quickly in the broken surface of stabilized dunes. The stabilizing cover of the Sand Hills is sensitive to even slight changes in climate. Many new blowouts developed during early spring in 1972 after only (Continued on page 63)

Sand Hills water above, and below ground

Economic development will provide solutions to many problems ... and water is the key to such development.

THIS PHILOSOPHY in one form or another has, over the years, provided motivation for intensive development of both surface and groundwater. Numerous public projects have been constructed for the purpose of increasing utility of river water, and over the same time period, substantial investments in the development of groundwater have also been made.

Some statistics from Nebraska might be cited to illustrate the situation. Recoverable water beneath the surface of Nebraska has been estimated to be over 1.6 billion acre feet, enough to cover the entire state to a depth of 39 feet. At the current rate of use (about three million acre feet per year) that quantity of groundwater would last for over 600 years without recharge. But recharge rates are substantial — about eight million acre feet per year — or more than double the current withdrawal rate. In fact, groundwater tables are rising in some areas, and severe drainage problems are being encountered. Nor is irrigable land in short supply. Although approximately four million acres are currently under irrigation in Nebraska, the potential has been placed at five times that number, or almost 20 million acres.

Reflecting on this potential, irrigation from groundwater has been developing in Nebraska, particularly in the Sand Hills, at a substantial rate in recent years. Since 1966, the number of acres of farmland under irrigation has increased over 200,000 per year. During the same period, new irrigation wells have been registered at an average rate of over 1,600 per year. These data (Continued on page 57)

SAND HILLS WATER

are quoted with pride by those who subscribe to the statement that "water is the key to such development."

On the other hand, other statistics, and another point of view deserves consideration. For example, in 1970, water tables declined in areas of 75 of Nebraska's 93 counties. In some areas, cumulative declines total 25 to 50 feet. By mid-August, some irrigation wells suck air. Where irrigation development has been intense, some domestic wells have gone dry and perennial streams have ceased flowing. The proponents of federal water development projects argue that surface water is required to supplement and recharge groundwater.

If declines in groundwater tables are to be halted, one of two things must happen — rates of withdrawal of water must be reduced or rates of recharge must be increased. Many people are not in favor of restricting withdrawal. They believe that the only acceptable solution to the problem of declining groundwater tables is to improve the efficiency of water use through research and education, and to develop alternative sources of water to recharge or supplement dwindling stocks.

This view is far too optimistic. In the first place, the opportunities for developing alternative sources of water at reasonable costs are severely limited —groundwater will continue to be a scarce resource in many areas irrespective of any conceivable water development projects. Furthermore, the political problems in this era of tight budgets and ecological concerns render funding of such projects most unlikely. Secondly, and more importantly, the need for a legal and administrative system for regulating water use, restricting rates of withdrawal of groundwater, and allocating groundwater among users is heightened by efforts to use ground and surface water conjunctively.

Hydrologists have long contended that groundwater is a local phenomenon. Abundance in one location rarely satisfies needs elsewhere, at least not at an acceptable cost. Large stocks of water located beneath the surface, or for that matter on the surface, in one area do not prevent widespread shortages elsewhere. Nor do aggregate recharge rates in excess of withdrawals justify sweeping assertions of underutilization. From an economic standpoint, development of water is justified only to the extent that utilization will yield net benefits. An analysis of the history of development of groundwater and of projections of develop ment over the next decade indicates that an effective institutional framework for public intervention in the management of ground water is required.

Historically, groundwater has beenviewed as being a resource similar to minerals and (Continued on page 61)

What to do

MAY breezes into Nebraska with an array of activities to keep young and old moving outdoors. Hours and hours of outdoor fun are free for the taking on many acres of public land in the state. Trail rides, baseball, horse racing and an ethnic festival all combine to provide plenty of entertainment under balmy spring breezes. In McCook, the fourth annual German Heritage Days festival will be the focal point for many Nebraska residents who descended from that sturdy Old World stock that clung to the prairie sod many years ago. Historical pageants, German music, dancing and Old World food tantalize the tastes of thousands of visitors to McCook for the two-day celebration May 5 and 6.

Later in the month, McCook again features family entertainment with the annual fishing derby at Red Willow Reservoir. As in years past, three trophies are presented in each of two adults' and two childrens' categories. Winners are selected on a point system, with each species of fish good for a specified number of points.

Whether fishing for prizes or for food, Nebraska anglers have many waters to choose from. They offer anglers a cornucopia of tantalizing morsels for the creel. Bullheads to catfish, walleye to crappie, the state's waters support a MAY 1973 varied bill of fare.

The Women's College Softball World Series is scheduled for May in Omaha. Sanctioned by both the Amateur Softball Association and the Division of Girl's and Women's Sports, the series will draw at least 16 teams (including a Japanese group) to George Dill Stadium. The tournament provides competitive training for young women destined for careers in physical education.

There's more outdoor activity in Nebraska. From May 1 to July 14, the ponies run at Ak-Sar-Ben in Omaha. Horses move at a slower pace in Cambridge, however, for the annual trail ride May 6. A week-long trail ride starts May 13 at Nebraska National Forest. Evening activities for that ride vary each night to include films, square dancing, and discussions on horses and horsemanship. The beautiful setting of the 90,000 acres of ponderosa pines makes for a trail rider's paradise. The Middle Loup River, the heron rookery, acres of rich ranch land, and other scenic trails make each of the five days in the saddle outstanding and enjoyable.

The bone-busting thrills of rodeo charge out of the chutes May 31 for a summer of activity at Lexington where the Jaycee rodeo is the first of the season.

Track and field meets highlight the calendar featuring the Mid-state Track Meet at Cozad. Washburn, Minnesota and Nebraska universities meet in Lincoln for shell racing.

A well-rounded schedule of events is planned for Brownville beginning May 27, the two-day program to include a Muzzle Loaders Contest, a Flea Market and a concert, all part of the town's spring festival.

Bike week in Lincoln features a one day bike tour over about 30 miles of trails. The tour is historically oriented, and includes such spots as the Kennard Home and Fairview. Clinics on maintenance and repair of bikes add an in formative dimension to the event.

Square dancing adds to the festivities as country music and Saturday-night spirits combine to bring back old days on the trail across Nebraska. Quieter entertainment can be found at collectors' shows such as the National Gem and Mineral Show, and the Coin Collectors' Show, both in Lincoln.

Early season vacationing in Nebraska is enhanced by the opening of state park lodging May 15. From sleeping bags under the stars to modern duplex cabins, Nebraska's varied terrain provides an outdoor paradise.

Antique hunters will have their hands full in Brownville May 27 and 28 as the annual Spring Festival and Flea Market brings old objects out of basements and attics.

For those who prefer the indoors, there are plenty of activities to keep them busy. Community playhouses have scheduled performances through out the month. Fiddler on the Roof is featured in Norfolk May 16 through 20, and at the other end of the state, the Centennial Art Show at North Platte is open throughout the month.

With the outdoors an amphitheater for state events, activity warms to the approach of summer. From May Day to Memorial Day, the calendar is chock full of fun and excitement.

SAND HILLS WATER

fossil fuels, which are also found beneath the surface of the earth. In particular, analogies have been drawn in law and in economics between groundwater and cruc' oil, perhaps because both are liquids. However, under most conditions, groundwater is not best managed as a nonrenewable stock. With respect to the management of nonrenewable resources, such as petroleum, a major consideration is a determination of the fraction of the exhaustible stock to be used during successive time periods. But with a resource such as groundwater, which is usually self-renewing or capable of being regenerated, the principal issue is not a determination of the appropriate time period for using up the stock. On the contrary, judicious management of groundwater usually requires that some portion of the stock never be with drawn. In other words, equilibrium between average rates of recharge and withdrawal should be achieved prior to exhaustion of all the economically recoverable stocks.

For developing principles of management, useful analogies can be drawn between rechargeable groundwater and impounded surface water. The impoundment and the aquifer are both reservoirs, and water in a reservoir, be it on or beneath the surface, is in most cases best managed not as a stock resource, but more properly as stored flow. The total amount of water flow ing in a stream at a given location is neither increased nor diminished by impoundment below the location. The advantage of storing part of the water flowing in a stream is not that the total supply of water is in creased, but comes from the fact that the rates of release of water from the reservoir may, at any given time, be greater or smaller than the stream flow. Since stream flows and water requirements vary, sometimes inversely, this capability has the potential of greatly increasing the proportion of the flow which can be diverted for beneficial uses, particularly if the intended use is a seasonal one like irrigation. By using aquifers as natural underground reservoirs, groundwater may be managed in the same way with similar opportunities for gain.

One other analogy between groundwater and impounded surface water is that not all the water in storage can be used economically. Some of the water in reservoirs, whether on or beneath the surface, is physically, but not economically, part of the stock. In the case of a surface reservoir, an inactive pool is maintained either for aesthetic reasons or because the drop is too short to operate turbines or for the water to flow into ditches. With respect to ground water reservoirs, the existence of inactive pools reflects the fact that the capacity of wells is limited by the rate at which water can move laterally into the pump intake. A major factor in determining this rate is the depth of the cone of depression around the wellhead as the pump is being operated. Irrespective of the transmissibility of the underground water-bearing materials, no well can yield water unless the water table is above the pump's intake.

With respect to groundwater, the inactive pool is defined as the water which cannot be recovered economically. Water in an aquifer above the inactive pool is reserve stock available for use whenever requirements exceed concurrent recharge. An aquifer with no reserve is economically exhausted. Demands for water in excess of concurrent recharge cannot be met by an aquifer which^has been exhausted.

Even in an aquifer which is being managed on a sustained yield basis, seasonal and year-to-year fluctuations in the reserve supply of water will likely be substantial. If the water is being used for irrigation, the quantity of water in reserve will invariably be depleted during the pumping season and augmented during the rest of the year. Furthermore, in a year of below average precipitation, the quantity of water in reserve will likely diminish from the preceding year. Conversely, in a year of above average precipitation, the reserves will in crease. This fluctuation varies directly with the amount of precipitation, but far more than proportionately. On the other hand, the rate of withdrawal of groundwater for irrigation varies inversely with the amount of precipitation.

Management decisions by irrigation farmers are dependent on the availability of a minimum amount of water throughout the irrigation season. Only with reasonable certainty concerning the water supply can efficiency in production be achieved. If the quantity of water available is under-estimated, the operations will not be sufficiently intensive to achieve the potential output. If, on the other hand, the supply of water falls short of expectations, substantial losses will likely be incurred from moisture stress.

The concept of sustained yield refers to the equation of the average rates of water entry and exit from an aquifer. Aquifers in their natural state are in dynamic equilibrium; that is to say they function on a fluctuating sustained yield basis. When man intervenes by withdrawing water from an aquifer or by inducing recharge, the natural equilibrium is disturbed. However, if the intervention is consistent over time, a new equilibrium is eventually established. If the induced recharge exceeds withdrawal, the stock of groundwater will be greater compared with the natural state. Conversely, if withdrawal exceeds recharge, the stock will diminish.

On the other hand, in the absence of artificial recharge, some mining of the stock of groundwater from an aquifer will occur initially with appreciable withdrawal of water for irrigation. This mining is both inevitable and, in a sense desirable. It is inevitable since the withdrawal of water during the irrigation season will almost always exceed the concurrent recharge, at least in the immediate vicinty of the wells. The mining is desirable in that it provides storage space for water during off seasons. As with a reservoir on the surface, flows of water during the off-season can be impounded in an aquifer only to the extent that water has been withdrawn previously to provide space to capture it.

Futhermore, the rate at which water leaves an aquifer by natural avenues will most likely be reduced as the water table declines. For example, lowering of water tables which are at or near the surface to levels below the root zones will halt evapotranspiration of the groundwater and permit diversion of an equivalent amount of water to alternative uses. Also, springs flowing from groundwater aquifers will dry up if the water tables are lowered to a level below the stream beds into which they flow. Finally, the lateral movement of water in an aquifer may be diminished by a lowering of water tables and the consequent change in the hydrologic gradient. This factor may be of particular importance if the lower part of the aquifer is a basin.

Within the limits of their capacity to hold a stock of recoverable water, all reservoirs, whether on or beneath the surface, must come to a condition of fluctuating equilibrium. They must function on the basis of sustained yield. At the one extreme, an aquifer (reservoirs) will be completely filled. Additional water will remain on the surface and be lost through evapotranspiration or runoff. At the other extreme, the stock of recoverable water will be exhausted. Subsequent to exhaustion of the stock, thequantity of water withdrawn cannot exceed that which enters. Stated differently, the yield of an aquifer over any time period cannot vary from the quantity which enters during that time period by more than the water in storage.

Water cannot be withdrawn from an aquifer for an indefinite period at a rate in excess of the rate at which water enters. All aquifers ultimately function on a sustained yield basis. If water is withdrawn at an average rate greater than the average rate of recharge, one or two changes must occur. Either the rate of withdrawal must be reduced, or the rate of recharge must be in creased, or both.

The objective of public action in restricting withdrawal of groundwater is not solely to equate average rates of withdrawal with average rates of recharge, since ultimately such a balance will be achieved without any rationing system. But as the stock of groundwater in an aquifer is depleted, with drawal of water will eventually become uneconomical, and finally impossible. The objective, then, is to achieve a balance between recharge and withdrawal before the reserve is exhausted.

Will stocks of groundwater be economic ally exhausted in the future if we continue to operate under the present system of incentives and restraints? Many of those who make decisions concerning the utilization of water tend to have short planning horizons. They attach little value to income streams beyond a decade into the future. 60 NEBRASKAland MAY 1973 61   The supply of water which can be economically used tends to be overestimated. High gross revenue seems to be unduly attractive to prospective irrigators, to those who sell farm equipment and supplies, credit capital, and those who handle and process farm products because of the opportunity to profit regardless of how the irrigator fares, and to real estate owners and businessmen not directly related to irrigation because of the opportunity for economic gain.

Large unrecoverable investments in volved in initiating irrigation lead those who have installed systems, but find them unprofitable, to continue to irrigate in attempts to minimize losses. The resulting products, even though they may be in surplus, are sold into a market which is vast and government supported and which, therefore, is not measurably affected. Furthermore, government programs of production control such as acreage restrictions and land retirement force other producers and other communities to retrench.

The individual user normally draws water from a common pool. Changes in his rate of use will not appreciably affect the total quantity of water used. On the contrary, in the face of an impending general shortage of water, individuals may initiate water-using activities for the purpose of establishing a history of water use. With property rights in groundwater uncertain at the present time, many current and prospective users believe that if, at a later date, water is rationed, the bases for apportionment will include past beneficial use. At such a time, those who have a history of use will likely have established a valuable right which may be either exercised or sold. Those without a history of use are likely to end up with lesser rights or none at all. Furthermore, a declining water table, with consequent diminishing well yields, tends to result in accelerated water development activities in the form of additional wells to maintain sufficient flows to operate systems already installed.

Individual users, communities, areas and states are motivated to rapidly exploit readily available stocks of water on the as sumption that when the supplies are exhausted, new sources will be developed to supplement dwindling stocks, with most of the cost of such development being borne by those who are not the primary beneficiaries.

Statistics indicate that substantial overdevelopment has already occurred in some areas and more is inevitable unless public restraints are imposed. Such overdevelopment, though beguiling in the short run, may be harmful to the public interest and perhaps to the interest of the individual irrigator in the longer run. Over-development is defined as the establishment of water-using activities which ultimately exhaust the stock of groundwater in an aquifer. Some of the advantages of refraining from overdevelopment, particularly if the water is to be used for irrigation, are as follows:

(1) Avoidance of overinvestment, both public and private, associated with depletion of the stock;

(2) Improved decisions on the part of water users based on firm commit ments of water for specified periods;

(3) Lower pumping costs reflecting reduced lifts and higher well capacities; and

(4) Higher yielding wells to provide sufficient water during critical periods.

Point one simply reflects that the installation of pumping and distribution systems larger than necessary to pump out available water on a sustained yield basis represent unnecessary investments. Perhaps of greater magnitude are the social implications of what happens when irrigation is developed, and later abandoned.

Communities which flourish in response to heavy irrigation may become virtual ghost towns after the water supply is exhausted. Public and private investments in such communities can be written off only with severe loss and great pain.

Aquifers, including those in long-run equilibria, tend, in the short run, to depart radically from even rates of ingress and egress of water, and the actions of man often accentuate these fluctuations. Furthermore, particularly with irrigation, these rates of recharge and withdrawal tend to vary inversely, and the magnitude of these variations cannot be accurately predicted from one year to the next. Water users can be assured of a given quantity of water from

an aquifer during a particular time period only if a reserve is maintained from which water can be drawn during dry periods. By the same token, excess water will be lost through unproductive dissipation unless the aquifer has the capacity to store it.

Reactions to the withdrawal of ground water at rates in excess of recharge can be of three types, or a combination of them.

(1) The situation can be ignored, in which case exhaustion of the stock of recoverable groundwater will eventually limit the rate of withdrawal to the rate of recharge;

(2) Alternative sources of water may be developed to augment underground water; or

(3) Prior to exhaustion of the economically recoverable stocks of water, restrictions may be imposed in order to limit withdrawal to a rate which can be sustained indefinitely.

Option one leads to substantial overinvestment, both public and private, and to the production of commodities already in surplus. It could lead to the early reduction, and perhaps the destruction of net benefits from water resources, and to the traumatic experience of severe retrenchment in economic activity.

Option two is reasonable, subject of course, to physical and economic limitations. The view held by some, that alternative sources of water to augment dwindling supplies will be available in quantities sufficient to obviate the necessity of restrictive allocation, is excessively optimistic. Irrespective of any conceivable development activities, water will continue to be a scarce resource requiring judicious use.

Option three —restricting withdrawal to rates which can be sustained indefinitely, keeping reserve stocks of water in the aquifers-is the course of action most likely to maximize net benefits. This option should in no way inhibit water development activities which are physically and economically feasible. But the more urgent need is the development of a legal and administrative system for promoting and protecting the interests of both the individual water user and the public at large while decision-makers still have reasonable alter natives from which to choose. The time is now to stop exploiting our water resources as if there were no tomorrow.

THE DUNES

a single winter of light snow cover when the surface was not fully protected from strong late-winter and early-spring winds.

If dry climatic conditions and accompanying winds caused the sand plain to drift into the huge ridges, it must have happened between glaciations, rather than during a glacial age. Recent studies of pollen deposited in a Sand Hills lake during the last glacial age show that spruce trees grew nearby. During each of the glacial ages the Nebraska Sand Hills probably supported

scattered spruce trees and were more heavily covered with grass than they are now. Precipitation may have been greater then, and because of the cooler climate, evaporation less.

Geologic evidence accumulating now indicates that the climate in Nebraska may have been more arid than it is now after the Platte River shifted into its present course. If so, very dry, possibly even desert conditions could have existed for a long enough time between two of the glacial ages —perhaps even several tens of thousands of years ago —to have produced the Sand Hills from the sand plains built by the rivers of more than half a million years ago. Some of the dunes, too, could have formed during glacial times, blown from the floodplains of the Niobrara, which carried and spread a broad sheet of sand and gravel from the Rocky Mountains during each glaciation. Thus, central Nebraska truly may have resembled, at one time, a "Great American Desert."

COWBOY COUNTRY

Fort Niobrara National Big Game Refuge, just east of Valentine, gives visitors an opportunity for a look-see at deer, elk and buffalo. A herd of long-horned cattle (once the backbone of giant beef empires) provides a special treat for sightseers.

South of Valentine is Valentine National Wildlife Refuge, which attracts hundreds of thousands of waterfowl during their spring and fall migrations. The refuge is also a haven for fishermen, offering some spirited angling for northern pike and bass. A bit to the west, Merritt Reservoir provides still more action for fishermen, while offering a broad gamut of outdoor and water-oriented activities. Near Merritt is Snake River Falls, Nebraska's largest waterfall. And, while in the area, visitors will want to take in the Sand Hills Museum with its collection of vintage automobiles and antiques.

Farther west, at Gordon, you enter the land that author Mari Sandoz made famous in her many books about the frontier West. Highway 20 takes you into the heart of the Pine Ridge, where history is indelibly etched in the ponderosa-studded hills. The great Sioux Chief Crazy Horse, Indian hero of the Battle of the Little Bighorn, died at Fort Robinson near Crawford. Fort Rob played a major role in the last of the Indian Wars, and it was there the Northern Cheyenne fought for freedom. An active military installation until after World War II, the fort is now headquarters for a growing vacation complex, and you can sleep in the same quarters that once housed the bluecoats of the 19th Century.

Also nestled in the picturesque Pine Ridge region is Chadron State Park, another major park complex that even offers group camp facilities.

Near the tiny hamlet of Agate is the developing Agate Fossil Beds National Monument, one of the largest fossil finds in the country. And, for a complete departure from the modern world, you can step into the eerie setting that is Toadstool Geologic Park. Access is primarily by foot or horse back, but the grotesque beauty of the area is well worth the effort. There, a few miles north of Crawford, nature chiseled a moon like landscape that thrills the imagination.

For Interstate 80 travelers who want a glimpse of the fantastic Sand Hills, Nebraska Highway 2 offers a refreshing excursion in to this vast cattle country as well as a short cut to Nebraska's Pine Ridge. Leaving I-80 at Grand Island, you'll drive through the heart of God's great pastureland. If you get going early, you can watch as the sun slowly penetrates the morning mists to reveal the panorama of the Sand Hills. This is cow country and helps give rise to Nebraska's nickname, "The Beef State."

As Highway 2 gradually angles north west, you'll skirt the north edge of the Bessey Division of the Nebraska National Forest near Halsey. Totally man-planted, it lies between the Middle Loup and the Dismal rivers.

All along the way, nature lovers should keep an eye peeled for the myriad wildlife species that inhabit the hills, and there's some mighty fine fishing in some of the natural lakes that dot the region.

For a little side trip into some lovely country, jog north on U.S. 281 at Grand Island to follow the North Loup River valley through the eastern Sand Hills. You leave U.S. 281 at St. Paul to take Nebraska High ways 92 and 11. Visit the chalk mine at Scotia and Fort Hartsuff State Historical Park near Ord, now being restored. Con tinue on Highway 11 to catch Highway 91 at Burwell, where Nebraska's "Big Rodeo" cuts loose each August. Leave the Loup Valley at Brewster to resume your journey on Highway 2.

Regardless of the route you choose, Nebraska's "Cowboy Country" opens new horizons for city-weary people. It will expand the imagination, as it gives you hundreds of thousands of acres on which to roam, innumerable things to see and do, and good clear air to breathe.

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