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Branding Season in the North

A vivid, firsthand account of the dangerous and dust-filled work of a cattle drive and roundup in the Pacific Northwest.

The story, cleaned up

A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.

The land boom is beginning to subside for this season, but with the opening of spring it is thought it will loom up brighter than ever. Newcomers still continue to arrive. The branding season is passed, and, although it is somewhat tiresome and dangerous, the royal sport connected therewith renders it a period to be looked forward to with no small amount of pleasure. Generally two or three of these happy stock raisers aid one another in this work to their common advantage. Early in the morning half a dozen or more men, well mounted, set out to bring in a band of cattle. About noon they return with a band, and, as soon as corraled, proceed to separate, the calves only being left within. Next a fire is lighted and the several brands laid thereon. When red-hot, three or four men, armed each with a lariat, enter the corral, and proceed to lasso each a calf. As soon as one is taken the end of the lariat is passed between the logs of the corral to the man attending the fire, who makes it fast. Another lariat is thrown around its hind legs, then it is thrown to the ground and quickly pounced upon and held down by one of the men, while another dexterously marks the ear with a sharp knife; the next instant he is enveloped in a cloud of smoke, arising from the heated brand burning through the hair and coming in contact with the skin. Where is the danger here? Just when the resentful beast gains its feet and springs for the nearest man, who springs decidedly faster for the safety afforded in scaling the walls of the corral. Occasionally one is overtaken and measures his length in the dust, rising with a rib badly bent, or spine curved like a crescent.

“Occasionally one is overtaken and measures his length in the dust, rising with a rib badly bent, or spine curved like a crescent.”

— Printed in Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, 1883
Then · 1883143 years apartNow · 2026

While Seattle has transitioned from a frontier hub to a tech metropolis, the region remains defined by its relationship with the vast landscapes to the east. This account captures the raw, physical reality of the livestock industry that paved the way for the development of towns like Spokane.

The original page

Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, 1883-12-15. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.

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About this story

From
Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, DEC 15, 1883, Page 4
Rights
Public domain
Place
47.65900, -117.42502 · placed automatically
The paper in the Library of Congress catalog ↗