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¶ Thousands of deer, quail, ducks, wild turkeys and antelope roam what is probably the nation's biggest wildlife preserve.
¶ Kingsville, built to service the ranch, now has 15,000 people and a King Ranch-controlled bank, newspaper, lumberyard, store and dairy.
There are 2,900 fast-starting, nimble "quarter horses" and 82 race horses in the ranch's stable. The ranch's Assault has won $623,370 to date, third biggest winner in racing history.
Fabled Prices. Despite the size of the King Ranch and its meat production, the nation focused anxious eyes last week on Bob Kleberg and his fellow U.S. cattlemen. This year they will send to slaughter an estimated record 36 million head of cattle. This tremendous movement of cattle from the ranges and feed lots has tended recently to force down the sky-high prices of meat in spite of the voracious demand. But now that the seasonal period of plenty is about over, what is the outlook for prices and supply? It is dark—if present demand continues.
And the U.S. meat supply is faced with a still greater threat—an invasion of the dread foot & mouth disease.* The worst outbreak (1914-16) forced the U.S. to slaughter and burn or bury (in quicklime) 175,000 U.S. animals before it was licked. The next time the battle may not be won—even at such cost. Said Dr. M. R. Clarkson, Department of Agriculture scientist: "If the disease ever gets across the Rio Grande, it would cost the U.S. at least $1 billion a year. It will affect all parts of the livestock industry, and it would be almost impossible to check."
The Department of Agriculture has already spent $35 million on a slaughter program in Mexico and failed to wipe out the disease (TIME, Dec. 8). Now, because of the rebellion of Mexican campesinos, who could not understand why their cattle should be given up to slaughter, the killing has been stopped (except animals actually infected) in favor of quarantine and vaccination of all Mexican cattle. But Bob Kleberg storms that neither of these methods has ever proved effective unless accompanied by slaughter and burial.
Like a general pinpointing a breakthrough of the enemy on battle maps, Kleberg has traced the progress of the disease northward. At week's end, the epidemic was only 300 miles away from his southernmost fences. Cried Bob Kleberg: "This thing has to be stopped even if it is necessary to spend $1 billion in Mexico. I'm in favor of replacing every slaughtered work animal with a free mule or ox, and sending Mexicans the cattle to restock their ranges. It would be cheap at the price."
Wyoming Lace. If one man could be the final expert on cattle raising, Bob Kleberg, at 51, would probably be it. He has a restless, all-consuming curiosity about cattle that is never satisfied. He has given his life to the job of running the King Ranch. As he says: "I have to. The bigger a thing is, the easier it is to lose!" On the ranch, he is awakened at 6 a.m. by the traditional King Ranch "good morning"—a cup of coffee brought to his bed. By 7 a.m. he has talked by phone to the foremen of the ranch's various divisions. By 9 a.m. he is usually charging over the prairie in his stripped-down Ford hunting car to whichever herd is being "worked" (rounded up, branded, culled for shipment, etc.) that day.