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Mariposa’s Awesome $50 Gold Slugs (LOST!!)
Final installment
FOUND!! (And lost again.)
A couple of years after “Squeeky” was “escorted” out of town, Winter set in. It proved to be a long wet one that seemed determined to hang around, at least until summer pushed it out.
Due to all the rain and snow, most of the small independent miners were idle, waiting for the gulches, gullies and creeks to slow down the flow of run-off so that they could go back to working their claims. It was boring just hanging around town, with the only excitement being that of drinking, swapping “tall tales” of rich strikes and gambling, so it’s not surprising that almost everyone in town turned out when 2 prospectors showed up half carrying, half dragging another prospector. His clothes were in tatters and his face looked like he had lost a fight with an ornery bobcat. The prospectors holding him up said that they had found him wandering around in the brush near the old ford.
They took him to the nearest Doctor where he was washed and his wounds were treated. But he was too far gone from dehydration and exposure. But, before he died, he told the following story…………
“It was raining all day, so I was in my cabin doing a little reading when I heard something thump against the door. I grabbed my shot-gun and called out, who’s there? I heard a groan, then a cough. Taking my lantern, I eased the door open and saw this here guy laying across the step. Well, I set everything down then helped him inside. I knew he was terrible sick since I could feel his fever as I lifted him to his feet.
I helped him to my bunk and covered him with a blanket. I helped him take a drink of water then he went to sleep. The next morning, after he woke up, I helped him sit up and fed him a cup of hot soup. He was so weak with consumption, he could hardly walk and for the next couple of days only got out of the bunk when he had to answer natures call. By the third day, he seemed to be a little better, but I think he knew his time was about up because he told me about some hidden gold that he had found.
He said he was prospecting near the old ford and about noon, he climbed up on some old high bedrock to have a bite of lunch. He said he started towards the back of the bedrock where there was a little more shade. As he stepped across a wide crack in the bedrock, since the sun was directly overhead, he saw a flash of gold at one end of the crack.
He said it took him most of the afternoon to fish out a gold coin with a long stick with a bean can tied on the end. Well, he decided right then to go into town and have a drink to celebrate. He went to the saloon and dropped the coin on the counter, and all hell broke loose. He swore he didn’t know about the lost gold coins, or he wouldn’t have gone to town.
Anyway, I calmed him down and he eased off to sleep and never woke up. The next morning, I gave him a decent burial. Afterwards, I packed my old mule with some tools and blasting powder and took off to see if I could find Squeekies crevasse.
I got there around noon and when I found the crevasse, I used my old mirror to reflect the sunlight down in the crack. On one end I could see a leather bag with some gold coins spilling out of it. At the other end of the crack, there was another bag and I guess the pack rats had been gnawing one it, because I could see raw gold spilling out.
The crack was too narrow to get in, and too deep for me to reach the bottom, so I decided to set off a charge and see if I could open it up. After every thing was ready, I lit the fuse and stepped back to where I thought I’d be safe. Well, when the charge went off, even though I was about 50ft away, it felt like every little piece of shale that came out of the crack hit me.
I was knocked out, and when I woke up, at first I thought it was night time, because I couldn’t see. It was only later when I could feel the sun on my head, I knew I’d been blinded.
Like Squeeky, this miner only lived a few days before succumbing to his exposure and injuries.
Naturally, it didn’t take long for the towns folk to get out to the ford and start their search. The miners mule was found about a mile away, wandering around in the brush, but the crack wasn’t found. Neither were his tools. It was speculated that passing prospectors had seen the tools laying there and figuring they were abandoned, had packed them off for their own use.
Note: Over the past 50 years or so, this story has been bandied about and told and retold. Consequently, a lot of tales have circulated that only serve to confuse the issue. I’ve told it as best as I can remember. Obviously, I’ve filled it in and rounded it out for continuity as parts of what I was told had no way of placing elapsed years, or even seasons. I lived in the area long enough to know that most of the rain is during the winter. And I know enough to know that if you’re going to come down with “consumption”, that’s the most likely time to get it.
Over the last 20 years or so, it seems that there’s even a dispute over whether there was a mint in Mt. Ophir. And, nobody knows if there was a mint in Mt. Bullion. In all honesty, I can’t confirm either one, but I was told that there was one in Mt. Bullion and I’ll stick with that. I’m pretty sure that the mint was only in business for a couple of years before the San Francisco
mint went into production. Any time I find myself doubting a local mint, I remind myself that cash money was in short supply in the early years of the rush so there were certain emergency plans put into service. Once the present Western mints started up, there was no more use for any small scattered mints.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the story!!
Eagle