With the justifiable concern for the welfare of animals these days, we offer this particular piece of our past with some trepidation. The writer is not passing judgement but only reporting what happened, and it is not a pretty picture — necessary maybe — but definitely not pretty. Therefore, let the reader heed this warning: read on with caution.
The date was Jan. 16, 1889, and most of the occupants of the northbound train were on their way to Madera. The town’s perennial jackrabbit drive had surfaced once more, and participants of all ages were flocking to the Yosemite Hotel by the hundreds. So intense was the interest in the drive that the Fresno Expositor assigned a reporter to cover the story.
As the train pulled away from the little town of Borden, the reporter engaged his seatmate, a veteran hunter, in a bit of rabbit talk. The newsman was informed that Madera was home to thousands and thousands of jackrabbits and that they posed a serious threat to agriculture in the area. “You can talk about ravages and blight, but turn loose a family of six jackrabbits, with merely normal digestive apparatuses, in a 120-acre vineyard, and they will never let up until the vineyard is destroyed.”