Cadillac Desert: The American West and Its Disappearing Water

by Marc Reisner

The railroad land grants were a gift the size of California plus the major part of Montana. The deeded lands usually paralleled the railroad’s track; reproduced on maps, they resembled jet streams flowing in reverse. Anyone who bought land from the railroads would be utterly dependent on them for getting his harvests to eastern markets and receiving supplies in return. When the time came to set rates, the railroads could charge pretty much what they pleased. But first they had to seduce the settlers who were still content to battle stumps in Kentucky or endure peonage in Germany and Ireland. J. J. Hill, the founder of the Great Northern, said as much himself. “You can lay track through the Garden of Eden,” he told an acquaintance. “But why bother if the only inhabitants are Adam and Eve?” The upswing in precipitation, and the crypto-science that explained it, were exactly what was needed. From there it became a job for advertising.