[From J. Ross Browne's Adventures in the Apache Country (1871); Illustrations by the author.]

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CHAPTER XLVII.

JOURNEY TO AUSTIN.

I WILL not subject the reader to the perils of another trip across the mountains. The road is familiar to him by this time. He has seen it in winter, spring, and summer—by day-light and by moonlight—on foot and from the front seat of a pioneer stage.

On a pleasant morning in the month of May, 1865, 1 took my seat in the stage for Austin. My fellow-passengers were a couple of Israelites in the ready-made clothing line; three honest miners, deep in ledges; and a motherly female, with five small children, including one at the breast. We were not to say crammed, but there were enough of us for comfort, considering the heat of the weather and the length of the journey. I do not wish to convey the idea that there is the slightest inconvenience in sitting bolt upright on a narrow seat between two heavy men, one of whom persists in telling you all about a patent amalgamator; and the other in smoking bad cigars, going to sleep at brief intervals, punching you with his elbows, and butting you with his head; or any thing to complain of in the boots of your opposite neighbor, which have a propensity for resting on your toes, ranging over your shins, getting up on your seat, and airing themselves on the adjacent window-sill; or cause of mental disquietude in the suspicion of being greased all over the back of your only coat by a numerous family of

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children, whose hopeless attempts to appease their appetites, by means of sausage, bread and butter, and mince-pies, are constantly impressed upon you; or any thing short of agreeable sensations in breathing clouds of alkali-dust, and fighting whole armies of gnats.. With special reference to stage-passengers who travel along the banks of the Carson in the early part of summer the afflictions are of too serious and complicated a nature to fall within the range of ordinary comprehension, unaided by an enlarged practical experience.

A trip to Austin is something to look back upon with pleasure in after-life. It is always a source of happiness to think that it is over; that there. are no more gnats and alkali-clouds to swallow; no more rickety and forlorn stations to stop at; no more greasy beans and bacon to pay a dollar for; no more jolting, and punching, and butting of heads to be endured on that route at least. And yet it has its attractive aspect; the rich flood of sunshine that covers the plains; the glorious atmospheric tints that rest upon the mountains, morning and evening; the broad expanse of sage-desert, so mournfully grand in its desolation. The whole journey of a hundred and seventy miles from Virginia City may be summed up thus: Forty miles along the Carson, picturesque and pleasant, though rather dusty and somewhat obscured by gnats; station-houses built of boards, posts, and adobes where the horses are changed; occasionally bars and bad whisky; bacon and beans, with a strange dilution of coffee three times a day; excellent drivers and the best of pioneer stages; sage-deserts and alkali-deserts, varied by low barren mountains; teams with heavy wagons, heavily laden with machinery and provisions for Reese River, slowly tugging through the dust; emigrant wagons filled with women and children, wending their way tediously toward the land of gold, and empty freight wagons, coming back from Reese, such are the principal features of the journey.

Of the country I shall only add that it is the most bar-

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ren; desolate, scorched-up, waterless, alkali-smitten patch of the North American continent I have ever yet seen—a series of horrible deserts, each worse than the other. Parallel ranges of naked mountains running nearly north and south, with spurs or foot-hills running east and west, form a continuation of valleys through which the road winds. These valleys sink in the middle, where there is generally a dry white lake of alkali in which even the sage refuses to grow. Very little wood is to be seen anywhere on the route—none in the valleys, and only a few dwarfish nut-pines on the sides of the mountains. I know of no reason at all why any human being should live in such a country; and yet some people do, and they seem to like it. Not that they are making money either, for very few are doing that, but they get a sort of fondness for alkali in their. food and water, and seem to relish flies, gnats, bacon, and grease as standard articles of diet.

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After two days and a night of concentrated enjoyment in this kind of travel, our last driver cracks his whip, and our stage makes a dive into a little rut and out again. There is a faint show of water on the wheels, "What's that?" cries every body in astonishment!

"Gents!" says the driver, "I didn't like to alarm you; but that's REESE RIVER, and there's Jacobsville!"

No wonder we were startled, for Reese River is a source of astonishment to every traveller who passes over the road to Austin for the first time. It derives its name from an emigrant, who must have had a humorous turn of mind when he called it a river. That it is not so long as the Missouri or so majestic as the Mississippi is very generally understood; but when the expectant traveller comes to a sort of ditch in the desert about six feet wide, with the slightest glimmering of a streak of water at the bottom, he is naturally astounded at the frolicsome audacity of Reese. A jolly old Reese he must have been, to embark his name on the smallest river in the world, which sinks in the desert a few miles below the crossing, and thus undertake to float down the stream of life into an enduring fame! May you never be forgotten, Reese, while Reese River flows through the sage-deserts of Nevada! May you never be thirsty, even in the thirstiest region of futurity, when you think of that noble stream which bears your name forever onward over the upper crust of earth!

Seven miles more in the pleasant glow of a sunshiny afternoon takes us rattling up the slope of a canon, near the mouth of which stands the famous city of Clifton, or rather its ghost; for Clifton was the father of Austin, and died a sudden death about two years ago. All that remains of it now is a broad street flanked by the wrecks of many frame shanties, whose lights are fled and whose garlands must be dead, for they are nowhere seen, unless the everlasting bunches of sage that variegate the scene should be regarded in that metaphorical point of view.

It is said of the citizens of Clifton that they were

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blind to their own interests when they started the city. With florid imaginations in reference to the future, they established florid prices for town-lots, and thus drove honest miners higher up the cañon. The nucleus of a new town called Austin was formed; but the way to get to it was hard—like the way of the transgressor—and the Cliftonites chuckled much, believing they had the thing in their own hands; when lo! the Austinites suddenly went to work and built a magnificent grade, and down went Clifton, as if stricken by the fist of a mighty pugilist, with a cloud of mourning around its eye!

But we anticipate history. It behooves us first to explain why Clifton and Austin ever came to be built at all, there being nothing in the general aspect of the country to encourage settlement from any indication it presents of social, agricultural or commercial advantages over other parts of the world.

The present site of Jacobsville, seven miles from the mouth of the cañon, was an overland station prior to the discovery of the silver mines. Its principal feature was then, and still is, a line spring of water, which is a notable attraction in that dry country. The town of Jacobsville was started on speculation after the Reese River excitement commenced; it being the only place within a hundred miles where whisky could be had in any considerable quantity. Like Clifton, however, it received a black eye when Austin was started; and now stands a melancholy monument of human hopes frustrated.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

DISCOVERY OF THE SILVER LEDGES.

IN May, 1862, William Talcott, an employe in the Pony Express service, went to look for his ponies in the nearest ranges of mountains, which, as fortune ordained; was the Toyabe range. He took with him an Apache boy, purchased by James Jacobs in Arizona for a jack-knife and pair of blankets. Talcott and the Apache thus became the pioneers of civilization. They struck for the nearest cañon—and they struck up this cañon in search of the ponies—and while they were looking about them they struck a streak of greenish quartz, which Talcott thought resembled some quartz he had seen in Gold Hill. It was of a bluish green color, with a strong suspicion of mineral in it, but what kind of mineral nobody knew up to that date—not even the Apache who was born in a mineral country, and whose range of observation had been confined almost exclusively to mineral deserts from the time he was born up to the date of his purchase by Jacobs for a jack-knife and pair of blankets.

It is a remarkable fact that Fremont might have distinguished himself by this discovery, many years before, had he not passed a little too far to the south. His route lay through Death Valley and the southern rim of Smoky Valley, crossing by Silver Peak to Walker's Lake, and thence up the Walker River Valley. He left some of his men at Owen's Lake and crossed the Sierras into California. The great Pathfinder, unfortunately for himself, took the wrong path and missed the Reese River Mines by about 170 miles. Of course no blame

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can be attached to him for that, though there are people in Central Nevada who, having availed themselves of other people's discoveries, rather incline to the opinion that Fremont ought to have gone the Reese River route and opened up the mines. If mining speculations be a test of merit, is it not enough to have opened up and sold out the great Mariposa estate? And yet there may be people in New York who could wish that the famous Pathfinder had missed the Mariposa trail by 170 miles north or south, east or west—so it seems quite impossible to select a path that will suit every body.

On the 10th of July, 1862, the first miners' meeting in the Reese River country was held, and the district of that name was established. William Talcott, James Jacobs, Wash. Jacobs, and a Mr. O'Neill located a claim on a ledge, which was called, in honor of the pony express, the "Pony Ledge." It is a mooted question whether Talcott or the Apache boy can justly claim so much as the ponies they were in search of, which were thus summarily disposed of with a name and the four feet they happened to carry about them. This company located three other claims in the lower foot-hills, but none of them turned out very well. The ores first discovered were chiefly antimonial. Mr. O'Neill had a ranch on Truckee River, where he lived when he undertook to live in any particular locality. On his return from Reese River he took home with him some of the ores from the newly-discovered mines.

Mr. Vanderbosch, an intelligent Hollander, who had some knowledge of minerals, happened to see these specimens at the house of O'Neill, and immediately pronounced a favorable opinion as to the "indications of silver " contained in them. They consisted, in great part, of the metals usually found in connection with silver—copper, iron, antimony, and galena. The traces of silver were but slight; still sufficient, with the indications mentioned, to encourage the idea that there were deposits of rich silver ore in the vicinity. Specimens were subse-

DISCOVERY OF THE SILVER LEDGES 483

quently taken to Virginia City and tested by assay, with such results as to attract immediate attention. In October, 1862, David E. Buel, an enterprising miner and frontiersman, who had spent much of his life among the Indians of California, started for the Reese River country with two friends, William Harrington and Fred Baker. Buel was a man of indomitable spirit,

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great energy of character, and superior intelligence. He had served in various official capacities in California—for several years as Indian Agent in charge of the Klamath Reservation, where I first met him. And here let me say, as Ex-Special Agent of the Government, that I found Buel a remarkable man in more respects than one. He was an honest Indian Agent—the rarest work of God that I know of.

This party prospected about two miles south of the present city of Austin, the foot-hills. Nothing that could be properly denominated a ledge had been found at that time above the Pony Ledge. The only work done was the running of a tunnel, called the Highland Mary, which failed to strike any thing except a good place for burying money. San Francisco parties, I believe, were engaged in this.

Buel and his friends made several locations; some of which turned out well. They had a hard time of it, without shelter and with but little food. The town of Austin was named by Buel, who, if not its only father, was at least its biggest and ablest father.

As an independent historian I am greatly at a loss on this point. During my stay of nearly three months in the Reese River country I think I saw the first man who started Austin (according to his own account) in fifty different aspects. Sometimes he was tall and sometimes short; sometimes thick and sometimes thin; occasionally old and occasionally young; sober by turns and drunk by turns; always with a different name, and never concerned about his own fame, but merely desirous of setting me right and preventing interested parties from imposing on me. As a stranger, of course I could not be expected to know who built the first house—there it was, built by my informant; which accounts for the fact that fifty different houses were pointed out to me as the nucleus around which the famous city of Austin sprang up.

Mr. Vanderbosch, having satisfied himself as to the

DISCOVERY OF THE SILVER LEDGES 485

value of the ores, started over from Virginia, and arrived in December,1862, with a small party. Up to that date little had been done except in the way of prospecting. Wherever blue rock was found locations were made, but their value had not yet been determined.

The first locations of importance were made by Vanderbosch and his party. On the 19th of December the Oregon Ledge was discovered and located, near the upper end of the cañon, where now stands that part of the town called Upper Austin. Ten days later the "North Star" and "Southern Light" were located., These were the first true discoveries of rich silver ores in the Reese River district. All that had previously taken place was uncertain and conjectural. Six miles south, in the so-called but now abandoned district of Simpson's Park, Andrew Veatch, an enterprising explorer, who had been all through the Humboldt country, had discovered and located a claim called the "Comet," which attracted some attention. Veatch and his party went vigorously to work to develop their ledge. It went up like a rocket, and then came down like its stick.

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Vanderbosch obtained his first specimens of ore from the Oregon Ledge. They were found in a quartz vein three feet wide, with granite casings, showing silver chlorides, fahlertz, antimonial, and ruby silver. These specimens were sent to Virginia City to be assayed. The yield was so extraordinary—several thousand dollars to the ton—as to cause the most intense excitement.

DISCOVERY OF THE SILVER LEDGES. 487

Nothing so rich had yet been discovered in our mineral possessions. Numerous as the frauds and disappointments had been in mining speculations, there could be no doubt as to the wonderful richness of these ores. There were the ores and there were the assays to speak for themselves. What if the veins were narrow? Nobody wanted a very wide vein, when a narrow one yielded six

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or seven thousand dollars to the ton. The Comstock was prodigiously big and wide, but it looked poor in comparison with this. These assays were made in the latter part of December. Immediately the news spread—it flew on the wings of the wind, north, south, east, and west.

Then came the great rush of January, 1863—the Washoe excitement over again! I flattered myself I had helped to put an extinguisher on these crazy mining speculations; but when will people learn any thing from experience? Kern River, Gold Bluff, Frazer River, Washoe—these were not enough! Time misspent and money misapplied only whetted the public appetite for the precious metals. Failure never yet disheartened the American nature, or quelched its individual members. General Grant was no more defeated by numerous repulses at the siege of Vicksburg than these hardy adventurers were by suffering, loss of means, loss of time, and constant failure to realize their expectations. Ever cheery, ever hopeful, they were up and at it again after every knock-down — knowing no such thing as defeat.

I am sorry for this trait in my fellow-countrymen. It is so annoying to our neighbors across the water. Englishmen can't understand it, and won't believe it; and yet we do these things in our own self-confident style, as if the British Lion were of no consequence whatever. Even the London Times never stopped us from winning a battle or opening up a new country, or emptying our pockets in any new speculation that offered the slightest symptom of a "pay-streak."

Ho, then, for Reese River! Have you a gold, mine? Sell it out and go to Reese! Have you a copper mine? Throw it away and go to Reese! Do you own dry goods? Pack them up for Reese! Are you the proprietor of lots in the City of Oakland? Give them to your worst enemy and go to Reese! Are you a merchant, broker, doctor, lawyer, or mule-driver? Buckle up your

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blankets and off with you to Reese, for there is the land of glittering bullion! — there lies the pay-streak! So, at least, every body thought in the winter of 1862-3. The weather was cold; the mountains were covered with snow; neither food nor shelter was to be had at Reese; but what of that? Did lack of food or lack of houses ever stop a Californian from going anywhere he pleased? Sage-brush was plenty, at all events, and bunch-grass; and if horses and mules and cows could live on sage and grass, men could live on meat. The only house in the cañon was a small stone cabin, situated near the Pony Ledge. Vanderbosch and party, Buel and party, and other leading pioneers, camped all the winter in open tents; and I am told they had a jovial time of it. Every body was wonderfully rich—in feet. Tents and wigwams of all kinds soon began to sprinkle the hill-sides. Then came great freight-wagons with lumber, and whisky, and food and raiment, which brought fabulous prices; and up went Clifton and Austin like magic. About five thousand people gathered in and around Austin during the spring and summer of 1863. They came from California, from Washoe, from Idaho, from Salt Lake, from every quarter of the compass—some with money, most without, but all with the brightest hopes of sudden wealth. Speculation soon reached a pitch of extravagance to which all previous mining excitements were tame. Lander Hill, Central Hill, and Mount Prometheus soon became riddled with claims, looking like naked giants, lying on their backs, sprinkled with small-pox. Every man who had a pick or a shovel dug a hole two or three feet in the ground, and called it the "Grand Magniff," or the "Great Stupendous Ledge;" and thereupon he took to speculation. It was all feet—but little or no mining. Every body wanted to realize the grand result without delay.

This was the memorable period to which I alluded in a former chapter, when lodgings in a sheep-corral had to be paid for at the rate of fifty cents per night in ad-

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vance; when no man could safely undertake to sleep under the lee of a quartz-boulder, in consequence of that claim being guarded by a prior occupant armed with a six-shooter; when it was a luxury to sit all night by a stove, or stand against a post behind a six-feet tent. I have heard of men who contrived to get through the coldest part of the season by sleeping when the sun was warm, and running up and down Lander Hill all night; and another man who staved off the pangs of hunger by lying on his back for an hour or so at meal-times with a quartz-boulder on his stomach. Of the wild speculations in mineral ledges it is needless for me to speak in detail. The subject is a sore one for some of my friends in San Francisco. A notable instance was re-

DISCOVERY OF THE SILVER LEDGES. 493

lated to me as characteristic of the spirit of the times. An adventurer, with nothing to sustain him but his own sanguine anticipations of the future, was one day engaged in digging a post-hole, when he struck something blue. It was a ledge—rich in mineral. He at once perceived that the ore was the best kind of chloride silver; and he staked off his ledge, putting down himself and numerous friends as locators. But speculation was too keen and too grasping for him to profit by the working of his mine. An immediate offer of $60,000 was made

him for his discovery, and he was fool enough to sell out, pocket his money, and retire from the mining business. At least every body thought he was a simpleton, till an assay of the ore was made. It was not chloride of silver, it was only chloride of lead—which may be valuable some day, when lead rises to a dollar a pound. The "Post-hole Ledge" attracted much attention at the time. I am told the purchaser does not place much confidence in the honesty of the discoverer, whom he at first regarded as a singularly verdant man to sell out at such a price, but now considers a cunning rogue.

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Foreseeing that mills would be necessary to work the ores, Messrs. Buel and Dorsey took time by the forelock, and in June and July, 1863, erected a five-stamp mill in the cañon, which is now known as the California Mill. During the same summer the Rhode Island, Union, Pioneer, and Clifton mills were built. The Oregon Mill was commenced in May, but not finished and in running order till January, 1864. This and the Pioneer,

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were ten-stamp mills. All the rest had but five stamps each.

The work of building mills in this new country was attended with enormous labor and expense. Suitable timber for joists and beams was exceedingly scarce. Labor of every kind was high. Lumber was from $250 to $500 a thousand. The cost of transportation from California was a heavy item—freight being eighteen cents a pound from Sacramento. To get the necessary machinery across the mountains was a most laborious and expensive undertaking. There was scarcely anything in the country but the stones upon which to build the foundations. The mines had produced comparatively nothing as yet, and the greatest difficulty was to procure the capital for the prosecution of these enterprises. Besides, little was known of the quality of the ores or the proper manner of treating them. It was a mere experiment—but a very bold one. By the rude process of crushing and amalgamation the wastage was great, and the result by no means encouraging.

Mr. Vanderbosch, finding from the working of the first ores that it would be a losing business, and that a different plan must be adopted, erected a roasting furnace in March, 1864, which was a perfect success. It was the great event in the history of Reese River. Many bad begun to despair of getting any thing out of the ores; but the roasting process proved at once that they could be successfully and profitably worked. The experiment was made under the most discouraging circumstances. The weather was so cold that the bricks of the furnaces had to be covered with blankets to keep any heat in them; and the machinery was of the most primitive kind. Still it was a success. The yield was remarkable considering all things-ranging from $150 to $1750 to the ton. The first class chlorides averaged from $300 to $500; second class from $150 to $300; and the third class would have yielded from $100 to $150; but it was not considered profitable to work them

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so long as there was an abundance of superior ores. The cost of working was about $80. It is now, as announced, somewhat less.

During the latter part of 1863 the natural result of the wild speculations which had been going on during the year became apparent. Little or no work had been done on the ledges. Miners had expended all their means, and nothing was coming in to keep them in food and raiment. Outsiders began to feel their pockets and wonder if there was any thing in this Reese River country. The success of the Vanderbosch mill, and the development of the Oregon ledges during the ensuing spring, had an encouraging effect. Things began to brighten up; and San Francisco capital began to flow in. About $2,000,000 were invested in mines, mills, etc., during the year 1864.

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Before the close of 1864 a panic took place in the Reese River stocks. Some of the leading mines, which had been opened to the depth of sixty or seventy feet, had reached poor or barren rock, and a general impression prevailed that the ledges were not permanent. A fearful state of depression followed. Money was scarce, and it was impossible to go on working without capital. The supplies from San Francisco stopped. Those who owned stocks became tired of paying assessments; and now that there seemed no hope of returns in the future, many allowed themselves to be sold out.

The miners themselves remained confident—never for a moment losing faith in the mines. Such of them as were able continued to work on the ledges, hoping in time to get through the barren streak.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE IMMORTAL GRIDLEY.

IT is a leading peculiarity of the American people that they carry with them into every new territory their municipal and political institutions. A "city" of two houses and half a dozen inhabitants must have its Mayor and Common Council, its, primary meetings, and election excitements. An American could no more live without making speeches or hearing them, holding office or voting somebody else into office, participating in a torch-light procession or flourishing his hat over it, than he could without his newspaper or his daily "tod."

Austin was not exempt from this notable feature in American life. The city charter was passed with due solemnity in April, 1864. Public rejoicings followed as

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a matter of course. There was immense excitement at this time touching the political issues of the day. Re-publicans and Copperheads were pretty evenly divided; and the state of feeling between them was exceedingly lively, if not hostile. A great deal of betting took place on the test questions, the chief of which was the election of Mayor. Every man felt not only a local and personal but a national interest in the result. The two candidates were well matched. On the Democratic side was my friend David E. Buel—"Uncle Dave," as his fellow-citizens familiarly called him—a man of imposing presence, six feet four, and large in proportion, without a fault save that of being always on the wrong side, and with a frank, generous, off-hand way about him that was wonderfully attractive to the honest miners. Buel was a miner himself, and enjoyed a high reputation for energy and honesty. A more popular candidate could not have been chosen to give strength and respectability to a bad cause. It was expected that he would carry a large portion of the Republicans, and doubtless he would have done so at any other time. The other candidate was Charles Holbrook, a young man of excellent character , and fine business capacity. Holbrook had just erected a handsome store, built of cut granite, and was one of the leading merchants. His integrity was undoubted, his intelligence of a superior order, and his political faith ultra-Union. The gladiators went heart and soul into the fight. Betting was the order of the day. Each party was perfectly confident of success. Among the bets made was one of a somewhat eccentric character. Dr. H. S. Herrick entered into an agreement with R. C. Gridley to the following effect: If Buel was elected, Herrick was to carry a sack of flour from Clifton to Upper Austin, the distance being about a mile and a half, and the grade up-hill all the way. If Holbrook was elected, Gridley was to carry a sack of flour from Upper Austin to Clifton, having the advantage of the down-hill grade.

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The battle was exciting, but it was bravely and honorably fought on both sides. Holbrook, the Republican candidate, was elected by a fair majority. The sentiment of the people was sound when it came to the great question of maintaining the Union.

Gridley, true to his engagement, was on hand at the appointed time with his sack of flour. An immense

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concourse of people had assembled in Upper Austin to witness the novel performance. Laughter and good. humor prevailed on all sides. The best feeling existed between the victorious and the defeated candidates. Winners and losers enjoyed the scene with equal gusto. A grand procession was formed, headed by an excellent band of music. The newly-elected officers, including his Honor the Mayor, followed the musicians, mounted on horseback. Next to them came the hero of the day, the redoubtable Gridley, with a sack of flour on his back. On each side marched a standard-bearer, carrying high in the air the flag of the Union. Gridley stood up to his task like a man, never flinching before the glorious emblem of liberty. If the truth were known he worshiped it in his heart, though he had an eccentric way of showing it. Friends, citizens, and strangers followed. Never was there seen such a lively crowd in Austin. "Go it, Gridley!" "Stick to it, Gridley!" "Never say die, Gridley!" were the encouraging words that cheered him on all sides.

Arrived at Clifton, it was suggested by some enterprising genius, whose speculative spirit kept pace with his patriotism, that the sack of flour should be sold for the benefit of the Sanitary Commission. The proposition was received with unbounded applause. In a moment an empty barrel or a dry-goods box was found, and an auctioneer mounted upon it. The bidding was lively; but the crowd were not quite warmed up to the joke, and the flour only brought five dollars.

It was then determined that there should be another auction held in Austin. The sack of flour was taken up again, and the procession started back with it—this time marching to the tune of "Dixie." The most uncompromising Copperhead was won over; and all united in common sympathy for the suffering soldiers. It was a clever stroke of policy for the Republicans. The procession halted in front of the store owned by his Honor the Mayor. By this time the crowd was immense. Every

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body turned out to see the fun: miners from their holes in the ground; Reese River capitalists from their shanties; business men from their stores; women and children from their cottages and cabins.

The sack of flour was once more put up at auction with a general hurrah. This time the bidders were in earnest. They bid by the hundred, and by fifties and by twenties, many bidding against themselves. Republicans and Democrats bid without distinction of party. The best feeling prevailed; and $3000 was the grand result! The last purchaser always donated his purchase back to the Sanitary Fund. A third auction was held on the following day. The result on this occasion was $1700. The nucleus, of so large a fund thus formed aroused the patriotic fire in the soul of Gridley. It was a glorious cause that could thus win the sympathies of every party. Henceforth Gridley was with it body and soul. He would make an institution of this sack of flour. He would immortalize it—make a magnificent donation to the sick soldiers and a reputation for himself. So Gridley set forth with his sack of flour. It was sold at Virginia City for $8000; at Sacramento for $10,000; and at San Francisco for about $15,000. I was witness to the procession in San Francisco. It was the memorable event of the times. Never did Montgomery Street present a more imposing appearance. The beauty and fashion of the city were there; and so was Gridley, decked out in glorious array, the observed of all observers. Who would not have been Gridley then—gazed at as the great man of the age? What would Grant or Sherman have amounted to when Gridley was in view? Thus did Gridley draw the surplus cash from the pockets of the generous public; and thus did he do good service in the cause of freedom. All honor to Gridley!

Of the career of this distinguished gentleman on the Atlantic side I have read wonderful newspaper accounts. He was feted, and gazed at, and admired, and hurrahed, and printed in weekly pictorials, and puffed, and joked

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—was the irrepressible Gridley; and the grand finale was $100,000 to the Sanitary Commission! Ever praised, ever sung in song be Gridley! It was a noble speculation, based upon a sack of flour and the popular sympathy for a noble cause. It commenced in Austin and ended with a net profit of $100,000 to the suffering soldiers, and immortality to the name of Gridley.

On the strength of his fame Gridley became interested with Mr. John W. Harker and other experienced financiers, and raised sufficient capital in New York to return to Austin and start a bank. The great banking establishment called the "First National Bank of Nevada" is now one of the prominent institutions of the country.

Buel, after his defeat for the Mayoralty of Austin, concluded to run for the Governorship of the State. He was nominated by the Convention at Carson—alas for Buel! The State was Republican. My worthy friend was sanguine to the last; he had many votes, but failed for want of votes enough. May he have better luck in his choice of party next time! He is a good fellow, and deserves to win in a good cause. Morally, he still lives; politically, he is a dead Buel.

CHAPTER L.

A SPECULATOR.

A GENERAL impression seems to prevail in these new mineral regions that every visitor who makes his appearance for the first time is a capitalist, or a gentleman of profound scientific attainments, or the representative of some heavy moneyed corporation, or a person who in some way possesses extraordinary influence over public opinion. The worthy citizens of Austin are proverbial for their hospitality. Not only do they feast every new-comer of any pretensions whatever with a prodigal hand, but extend to him all manner of invitations to explore their ledges and fill his pockets with specimens of chlorides, bromides and sulphurets.

I fear there is something scientific in the expression of my countenance. For three months I lived principally underground. My travels were through drifts and tunnels and shafts and inclines—tracing ledges and probing veins rather to oblige the mining community than from any expectation of individual profit. When I come to reflect upon the number of times I have gone down hundreds of feet under the earth in rickety buckets, the bumps and jams and alarms I have had in being conducted through dismal subterranean passages and hoisted out like a bag of ore, the damage to my clothes and disfigurement to my person, it really strikes me that there is some inconvenience after all in having a scientific reputation. Scarcely a day passed, during my sojourn at Reese, that I was not beset with invitations to explore mines varying from ten to a hundred and fifty miles distant. The prevalent idea was that I was en-

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gaged in the preparation of elaborate works for Messrs. Harper & Brothers; and every man who had a mine or a ledge or the shadow of a claim appeared to think it would never do to leave the country without seeing that particular property, inasmuch as by that alone the wonderful richness of the mineral belt could be fairly appreciated. Never was there any thing so fabulously rich! —ledge forty feet wide—outcroppings three hundred dollars to the ton!—the virgin silver everywhere visible! It was quite useless to urge that I was merely engaged in jotting down some general notes on the country, and could not well spare the time to go into such minute details. How was it possible to form any idea of the country without seeing the "Carotid Artery," or the "Great Umbilical," or the "Mammoth Siwash?" One active and enterprising little fellow with a bull-terrier face dogged me for three days, insisting upon it that I should climb a rugged mountain about five or six thousand feet high and take a look at the "Smiling Jane," in which he had a half interest. It was by all odds the best thing in Reese. All it wanted was development. The ledge was forty feet wide and nearly pure silver.

"Why don't you work it?" said I, somewhat annoyed at his pertinacity.

"That's just what we want to do," answered my friend, briskly. "But you see me and my pardner is bust. We must have capital, and to have capital we must sell out an interest in the Smiling Jane."

"What do you ask for the whole mine?"

"Well, it ought to be worth two hundred thousand dollars—that would give us a hundred thousand apiece."

The cool audacity with which this was said gave me rather a favorable impression of the man's speculative genius.

"Really," said I, "that's a ledge worth owning. But I don't see what profit it is to me whether your ledge is worth two hundred thousand dollars or two cents."

"Oh, you're on the make, are you?" suggested my

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shrewd friend rather indignantly—as if he thought there was a large amount of moral turpitude in my being "on the make" while he, an honest miner, had no predilections at all in that way.

"Why, yes, to be candid, I'd like to make fifty thousand or so. I think that amount would quicken my interest in the Smiling Jane."

The bull-terrier didn't see it in that point of view. He thought it rather a hard case that men who had worked, and starved, and suffered all sorts of hardships for two or three years should be obliged to give away half their claims before they could realize any thing on the other half. There was Professor Silliman and Professor Jackson and a dozen other professors who wouldn't express an opinion short of $500 to $1000.

"Well," said I, "it probably cost these gentlemen something to obtain an education. You don't expect men of reputation to visit, such a country as this for amusement."

No—he didn't expect that, but the miners were poor. They had no spare cash. For his part, he was not disposed to be mean. He would give a liberal contingent to have the "Smiling Jane" examined, and a report made upon it.

"Very well," said I; "lead the way, and I'll see what can be done."

We climbed mountains and scaled precipices for the next two hours, till we came to a barren spot of earth, which seemed to be rooted up by squirrels or gophers to the depth of about three feet. I confess the effort had somewhat exhausted me, and I sat down on a stone to wipe my forehead and gain breath.

"The ledge, of you see, is not yet developed," remarked my companion—" all it wants is development."

"Where is it?" I asked, looking about in every direction, for I was unable to see any thing in the shape of a ledge.

"Here—right here under your feet! Don't you see

A SPECULATOR. 509

the chlorides cropping out? Look at them casings, Sir! Cast your eye on that virgin deposit, Sir! Did you ever see finer surface ore? Here's a chunk would go a dollar to the pound!"

In vain I looked; in vain I picked up little bits of earth and rock; in vain I pounded them up and gazed at the fragments; by no possible effort of imagination could I make a ledge out of the "Smiling Jane."

"Well, Sir!" said the Terrier, a little impatiently, "what do you make of it?"

"I should call it A PROSPECT," was my answer.

"True, the ledge is not yet developed—all it wants is capital to bring it out."

"Have you had any of these ores assayed?"

"Not yet. We don't go much on assays. Assays isn't worth shucks. I know men in the assay line that keeps blank certificates, and fills 'em up accordin' to order—five dollars for five hundred and ten dollars for a thousand to the ton. Assays is nothing."

The Terrier having thus expressed himself, lighted a pipe and stood with the jaunty air of a proprietor—his hands in his pockets, his legs spread like a pair of dividers across the supposed ledge—awaiting my opinion.

"Friend," said I, "it would be impossible for me to make a satisfactory report on that mine in its present state of development. But this much I will say. You ought to be able to get a million of dollars for it in New York. The New York capitalists seem to have a fancy for mines of this kind."

"I'll tell you what," said the Terrier after some deliberation--"if you'll go on to New York and sell the 'Smiling Jane' for a million, I'll give you my personal obligation for fifty thousand dollars."

Want of time compelled me to decline this flattering offer. The Terrier did not give it up so easily. Every time I met him for some weeks after he renewed the proposition, with various tempting additions in the way

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of future prospects. The last I heard of him, he had "made a raise" of three hundred dollars and was on his way to New York with several elaborate reports done by friendly hands, and numerous certificates of as-say purchased at the prevailing rates, showing the wonderful resources of the "Smiling Jane." I warn the citizens of New York that there are town-lots for sale in the City of Oakland in which capital may be invested with less risk and quite as good a prospect of speedy returns. Still, if they want to go into the "Smiling Jane," I will say this much: There is no telling the amount of wealth that may be in it. At all events, there is ample room for speculation on the premises.

CHAPTER LI.

THERE is a class of men peculiar to our new mineral territories to whom the world has not yet done justice. In truth they are but little known individually, though in the aggregate they have accomplished wonderful things. I speak of those vagrant spirits, commonly called "prospectors," who never make any thing for themselves, but are always on the move to make fortunes for other people. Regular miners, traders, and speculators belong to an entirely different genus. They come in after the way has been opened; but with them the spirit of adventure is not a controlling power. They are no more to be compared with the genuine "prospector" than the motley crowd of merchants and artisans who flocked over to the new world in the tracks of the great Columbus are to be named in the same day with that renowned discoverer.

The prospector is a man of imagination. He is a poet—though not generally aware of the fact. Ragged and unshaved, he owns millions, yet seldom has two dimes to jingle in his pocket—for his wealth lies in the undeveloped wilds. The spirit of unrest burns in his blood. He scorns work, but will endure any amount of hardship in his endless search for "rich leads." There is no desert too barren, no tribe of Indians too hostile, no climate too rigorous for his researches. From the rugged cañons of the Toyabe he roams to the arid wastes of the Great Basin. Hunger, thirst, chilling snows, and scorching sands seem to give him new life and inspiration. It matters nothing that he discovers

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"a good thing "—a nest of ledges, worth say a million apiece—this is well enough, but he wants something better; and after a day or two spent in "locating his claims" he is off again—nobody knows where—often with scarcely provision enough to last him back to the settlements. He travels on mule-back, when he happens to own a mule; on foot, when he must; with company, when any offers; without, when there is none; any way to be driving ahead, discovering new regions and locating claims. He locates so many claims that he forgets where his possessions are located. If he discovered a ledge of pure silver, six feet thick, he would die in a week if he had to work it on his own account. His industry runs in another direction. Variety is the spice of his existence, the motive-power of his life.

By no means do I intend to depreciate the services of this class of men. They have done more to open up our vast interior territories to settlement and civilization than all the scientific expeditions ever sent across the Rocky Mountains. The indomitable courage, the powers of endurance, the spirit of enterprise, the self-reliance and the fertility of resource exhibited by this class of men under circumstances of extraordinary difficulty, have no parallel in the annals of daring adventure. Where is there a desert so barren or a mountain so rugged that it is not traversed or explored by the irrepressible Prospector? In the wild declivities of the South Pass, in the desolate wastes of Colorado and Utah, in the alkali plains and sage-deserts and rugged mountain ranges of Nevada, you find him with his pick and shovel—ever hopeful, ever on the strike for "a new lead." He is the most sanguine of men—the most persistent of explorers. Neither disappointment nor the vicissitudes of climate can check the ardor of his enthusiasm. As privation is his lot in this world, it is to be hoped he will strike " a better lead " in the next.

Early in the summer of 1852 a train of sixty wagons left the Mountain Meadows for San Bernardino. The

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party consisted chiefly of Mormons, but among them were some Gentiles who availed themselves of the protection afforded by the train against the attacks of hostile Indians. The road taken was that known as the old Spanish trail between Salt Lake and San Bernardino. It was the intention of the emigrants to cut off a bend in the road running by Las Vegas Springs, which approaches within thirty or forty miles of the Rio Colorado, and considerably increases the distance. At the Armagosa a difference of opinion arose as to the proper direction to be pursued—some being in favor of striking straight across the desert, while others, who knew the terrible sufferings likely to be encountered from want of water in those arid wastes, thought it more prudent to keep within range of the river. As usual in such cases, the discussion ended in a quarrel Fifty-one of the wagons started down the Armagosa; determined to gain the old road again and follow the beaten track. The remaining nine crossed the range of mountains between the Armagosa and Death Valley. On reaching Furnace Creek another dispute arose. The weary wanderers were in the midst of a wilderness, with nothing in sight but barren mountains and desolate plains save the wretched little water-hole at which they were camped. Seven of the wagons finally started to explore Death Valley for an outlet to the north-west. The other two struck out to the south-west; but were soon lost in the rugged declivities of the mountains bordering on Panamint Valley. On their route they discovered the skeletons of three men, at a point called Poison Springs —the waters of which are supposed to cause death. The bones of cattle and of various wild animals were found scattered about in the vicinity. From the train that went down the Armagosa there was a further division of three men, named Farley, Cadwallader and Towne; who, tired of the slow rate of progress and the constant dissensions that prevailed, determined to strike out for themselves. Providing themselves with some

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jerked beef and such other articles of subsistence as they could carry on their backs, they left the wagons, taking a route a little north of west. For several days they wandered about in the wilderness, suffering greatly from thirst and heat. At Daylight Springs they found water. Thence they crossed Death Valley and ascended the range of mountains lying between that desolate region and the Valley of Panamint, at a point called Folly's Pass. In the course of their wanderings they saw many wonders in the way of mineral ledges; but were unable to examine them carefully owing to their sufferings from thirst and the necessity of reaching some spring or water-hole while they had strength. At one place, supposed to be in the foot-hills of the Panamint range, they discovered a silver-ledge of such extraordinary richness, that in the language of one of the party the "virgin silver glittered in the sun." Weary as they were, and precious as their time was, they stopped long enough to break off a few masses of the ore and locate a claim. The ledge cropped up boldly out of the earth, showing a well-defined vein of four or five feet in thickness, and so rich that the virgin ore was visible all over it.

After great hardships and terrible suffering from thirst, the three men found water at a place called the "Last Chance Springs," where they camped for several days. While resting there, the two wagons that separated from the mine at Furnace Creek, came in with the small party accompanying them. They had been many times lost; their stock was nearly broken down with fatigue and thirst, and they were now seeking to get on some known trail that would lead them to California. A Methodist minister named King, with his wife, occupied one of these wagons. The three men, Farley, Cadwallader and Towne, told King of the wonderful discovery they had made, and showed him the ore they had obtained from the ledge. King knew but little of mining practically, but he was an intelligent man and saw

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no reason to doubt the representations made to him. Provisions were getting short, however, and there was a long journey before them. It was not possible to go back to the ledge and make any further examination of it without a strong chance of perishing in the attempt. The party then joined together and pursued their way in a south-westerly direction till they struck the San Bernardino road and entered California. King and his wife had relatives in the Santa Clara Valley, and settled there. Accounts given by them of the great silver ledge attracted considerable attention, though not so much, probably, as would have been the case after the discovery of the Washoe mines. The people of California were not prepared to attach any great importance to discoveries of silver while their attention was so fully occupied in the development of the gold mines. The Kings had with them a specimen of the ore presented to them by the discoverers, which of course tended to authenticate their statement; but they were not skilled in getting up speculations, and consequently the matter soon died out, so far as they were concerned.

Farley, Cadwallader, and Towne separated on their arrival at San Bernardino. Cadwallader went on a prospecting expedition to Sonora. Farley and Towne roved about the southern country for some time, finally stopping at Los Angeles. While there they talked freely about their great silver ledge near Death Valley. The attention of some practical gentlemen in Los Angeles was attracted by the specimens of ore which these two men carried with them. A company was organized and capital paid in to make the necessary tests and fit out an expedition to work the ledge. Some of the ore was taken to San Francisco by a member of the company and assayed. The yield surpassed their most extravagant anticipations—being eighty-five per cent. of silver. Such a yield from croppings, taken at random from the surface, by travellers hurrying along on a journey of life or death, was well calculated to inspire confidence in the

THE LOST LEDGE. 517

richness of the ledge. Provisions and mining implements were purchased, and a party fitted out, under the guidance of Farley, to find this wonderful deposit and work it. On the approach to Folly's Pass, Farley got into a quarrel with a member of the party named Wilson, in the course of which Wilson shot him dead. There was no hope of finding the ledge after this unfortunate event without the aid of one of the remaining discoverers.

Not knowing what else to do, and none being willing to stay behind upon an uncertainty, the members of the expedition returned to Los Angeles, where they procured the services of Towne as a guide. Another start was made, and all went on successfully till they reached Owen's Lake, on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. There Towne was taken with a fever and died. It seemed as if fate were against the enterprise. Compelled once more to return to Los Angeles, the company next set to work to find Cadwallader, the only surviving member of the party by whom the ledge was discovered, and who knew of its location. Without his guidance the whole enterprise must prove a failure. A reliable agent was sent down into Sonora to search for him, and make him such propositions as would secure his services. The search was successful, in so far as Cadwallader was found; but he was in such a condition from habits of intemperance into which he had fallen, that it was almost impossible to get him sober. When he became sober enough to listen to any proposition understandingly, he died.

All attempts to find the ledge having thus failed through a strange fatality attending the discoverers, the company was compelled to abandon the enterprise. Other parties, however, undertook to find it from the general descriptions given of the locality. Three years after the death of Cadwallader a new company was formed under the leadership of a Lieutenant Bailey, who professed to be well acquainted with the country. This

518 THE .REESE RIVER COUNTRY.

gentleman had explored Death Valley and the Panamint, and even claimed to have discovered the "Lost Ledge." He brought with him to San Francisco some extraordinarily rich ore, and had no difficulty in pro-curing from capitalists a large amount of money for the purpose of developing the ledge. Some say he collected as much as $70,000. He refused to sell any portion of the original ledge, but got up subscriptions on a continuation or extension, which was rich enough to satisfy the sagacious men of San Francisco. A party was fitted out, with wagons, provisions, implements, etc., and started from Los Angeles. Bailey was to overtake them in a few days at some point near Owen's Lake, and conduct them to that wonderful deposit of virgin silver which was to make them all rich. The expedition reached the point designated, and halted according to agreement. Days passed, and weeks passed, and months passed. No Bailey came. I tell the story as I heard it. If that gentleman be among the living, he will greatly oblige his San Francisco friends by accounting for his absence. The party left at Owen's Lake are under the impression that there would be no difficulty whatever in finding the "Lost Ledge" if they could only find the lost Bailey.

But if any body supposes such a mining population as we have on the Pacific coast can be disheartened by disaster and failure, he greatly mistakes the character of our people. No sooner was the Reese River country opened up to settlement and enterprise than prospecting parties started out in every direction to find new ledges. My old friend, Dave Buel, of whom I have so frequently made honorable mention, having located all the claims he wanted in the neighborhood of Austin, became inspired with the grand idea of discovering a new route to the Colorado River. Such at least was the ostensible object of the famous expedition made by him in the winter of 1855. But I strongly suspect the "Lost Ledge" formed a prominent feature in the enterprise.

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Buel had obtained some valuable information respecting its supposed locality from one of the men who had accompanied the train of wagons in 1852. He had carefully studied the whole subject, and thought he could "spot the treasure." Certainly if any man living could do it, Buel could. Of gigantic frame, great powers of endurance, unerring sagacity, and indomitable perseverance, he was well fitted by nature for such an enterprise. The history of that memorable expedition remains yet to be written. The party consisted of six—all chosen spirits—hardy and sanguine. They left Austin on mule-back—they came back on foot. Of their sufferings from thirst in the burning wastes of Death Valley; the loss of all their animals save one little pack mule; the dreary days they spent in "prospecting " for the ledge while death stared them in the face; their escapes from roving bands of hostile Indians, and miraculous preservation from starvation, I can not now give a detailed account. Gaunt and haggard, blackened by the sun, ragged and foot-sore, they returned to Austin after an absence of two months. Buel lost thirty-five pounds of flesh, but he gained a large amount of experience, concerning lost ledges generally. He thinks he was on the right track and could have found the identical ledge discovered by Farley, Cadwallader, and Towne had the provisions held out. The indications were wonderfully encouraging—mineral everywhere—nothing but mineral—not even a blade of grass or a drop of water. At one time the party lived for three days on a little streak of snow which they found under a shelving rock. Buel considers it a fine country for horned frogs. From the skeletons of men and broken wagons that he encountered near some of the water-holes, he is disposed to think that there may be better routes to the Colorado.

Inspired by the disasters of the Buel expedition, which were deemed rather encouraging in a mineral point of view, another company was formed during the past summer, of which a Mr. Breyfogle was a prominent

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member. I knew Breyfogle in former years. He was tax-collector of Alameda County, California; and seemed to be a man of good sense, much respected by the community. During the Washoe excitement he departed for that region, and was engaged for several years in mining speculations. Like many others, he had ups and downs of fortune. It was during a down turn that he became infatuated with the idea of discovering the "Lost Ledge." The failure of all attempts hitherto made he attributed to want of perseverance, and he announced it as his determination "to find the ledge or die." That was the only spirit that would lead to its discovery. He would "come back a rich man, or leave his bones in Death Valley." Every body said that was the way to talk, but nobody knew how much in earnest was Breyfogle.

Some five or six enterprising spirits united their resources and started with this irrepressible prospector, full of glorious visions of the Lost Ledge. They travelled to the southward, following the Toyabe range till they struck into the dreary desert of Death Valley. There they wandered for many days, probing the foot-hills of the Panamint range. They crossed and recrossed Buel's trail; they camped at the Poison Springs, and saw the skeletons of dead men; they went through Folly's Pass, and ranged through the Panamint Valley. North, south, east, and west they traversed the country, till their mules broke down and their provisions fell short. Breyfogle urged them to continue the search. "Stick to it, boys, and we'll find it yet," he would say. "Never give up while there's a ghost of a chance." But they were all ghosts by that time, and were rapidly becoming skeletons. Their only hope of saving their lives was to strike for the nearest mining camp—San Antonio—which was distant over a hundred miles. Breyfogle had been getting more and more excited for several days. He begged his companions to try it a little longer—only two days—even a day—as Columbus

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did in the days of yore. But here was certain death; or so, at least, it appeared; for what could they do without food in this fearful desert, remote from any point where they could obtain human aid, and already so weak that they could scarcely drag their limbs over the heavy sand? Breyfogle's eyes were bloodshot and had a wild and haggard expression. When it was announced to him that it was the determination of the party to abandon the search, he said: "Then I will continue it alone. I have sworn to find the Lost Ledge or leave my bones here, and I intend to do it." His comrades entreated him not to stay behind—they had scarcely provision enough to last them to San Antonio, and could not spare him more than two days' supply at the furthest. What if he found the ledge? the discovery would be of no use to him or any body else, for he would be sure to die. These arguments fell without effect upon the excited brain of the visionary. Too weak and weary to take him by force, Breyfogle's comrades reluctantly bade him good-bye and left him to his fate. With great difficulty they reached San Antonio. There they recruited till they were able to pursue. their journey homeward to Austin. In the mean time Breyfogle wandered about searching the deserts and the mountains for the Lost Ledge. When his provisions gave out he lived on frogs and lizards; but became very weak. It is probable his reason had been affected for some time. How long he wandered in this crazy condition would be difficult to say without a more accurate knowledge of dates. While thus helpless, a party of two or three Indians who had been watching him for several days, came upon him suddenly, beat him with their clubs, robbed him of his clothes, and ended by scalping him. One might think this rigorous course of treatment would have put an end to the poor wanderer; but such was not the case. Two days after the attack upon him by the Indians, a wagon-train, on the way from Los Angeles to Salt Lake City, picked him up and carried him to the City of the Saints. The

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injury to his scalp seemed to restore his faculties. He gave a graphic narrative of his adventures from the time his companions left him. At Austin it was reported that he was dead; but he turned up at Salt Lake City a few weeks after, as much alive as ever, and still determined to find the Lost Ledge. My visit to Salt Lake was shortly after his arrival. Hearing that he was there, I was about to hunt him up, when an attack of mountain fever laid me on my back, so that I lost the chance of seeing him before his departure on a little side-expedition to Idaho and Montana.

CHAPTER LII.

I NOW come to a stand-point, from which I think we may take a general view of the country with special reference to its resources and future prospects. The elaborate reports of Professors Silliman, Jackson, and Adleberg, who visited Reese River during the year 1865, leave me but little to say, even if I were competent, in relation to its geological features; and the admirable detailed reports of Mr. Clayton on the individual ledges have quite exhausted that branch of the subject. A summary of what I saw myself in my unlearned way, with what I gathered from practical miners and experts, may enable the general reader to form a more vivid and comprehensive idea of the country than could be derived from purely scientific reports.

The district of Reese River lies on the western slope of the Toyabe range of mountains, and is distant from Virginia City, by the Overland Mail Route, 170 miles. It embraces a track of hilly country some eight miles in length by four in width, bounded on the north by the Yankee Blade Cañon, on the west by the Reese River Valley, on the south by Simpson's Park, and on the east by the summit of the Toyabe range. Within these limits are situated, in close proximity to the main cañon which runs from Reese River Valley to the summit, those spurs or hills of the Toyabe range known as "Lander Hill," "Mount Prometheus," and " Central Hill," in which the principal discoveries of silver-bearing veins have been made. Austin, the chief town and county seat of Lander County, lies high up in the

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cañon, extending along it for a distance of more than a mile, with a broad main street, intersected by cross streets running up to the left over the lower slopes of the hills. It contains at the present time (January, 1866) a permanent population of about five thousand. The buildings are principally frame, well constructed, and ornamented in front by rows of scrubby pines stuck in the ground. Among them are some pretty cottages, evincing a growing taste for the comforts and even the luxuries of life. The best private residences, such as Mayor Hanson's and Mr. Rankin's, are substantially built of stone.

In the business part of the town, on the main street, are many fine brick houses; also several handsome stores and saloons built of stone. The general aspect of Austin is cheerful and picturesque. During the period of my sojourn—from May to August — it presented every indication of prosperity. The population is one of the best I have seen in any mining town—active, industrious, hospitable, and orderly. In point of morals I do not believe there is a better condition of society in any community of equal number on the Pacific coast. This is mainly attributable to the fact that a larger proportion of the population consists of women and children than in most new mining towns; and in part to the prevailing scarcity of surplus means. Every man has to labor for a living. There is not much chance for gamblers or idlers; consequently there are few of them.

The Toyabe range of mountains, in which most of the discoveries of silver ledges now attracting attention have been made, commences near the Humboldt River, about 100 miles north of Austin, and extends in a southerly course, trending slightly to the west, a distance of 175 miles, where it terminates in the high desert plateau, which forms the southern rim of the Great Basin. Formerly the Overland Telegraph and Mail Routes crossed it a few miles to the north of Pony Cañon; but since the building of Austin both telegraph

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line and overland stages pass directly through that city and across the head of Big Smoky Valley.

The characteristic appearance of the Toyabe Mountains is that of extreme barrenness. The cañons and a few of the open slopes are dotted with a scrubby growth of nut-pine, juniper, white-pine, and a hard, scraggy kind of timber called mountain mahogany. In the vicinity of Austin most of the wood has been out away for fuel and other purposes in the progress of mining; but north and south, from eight to ten miles distant, there is still a sufficient supply to last for several years, probably five or six. In the Smoky Valley districts the quantity of wood is much greater; and it will probably be many years before any difficulty will be experienced on that score. The barren aspect of the mountains arises more from the extreme dryness of the climate than from any want of fertility in the soil. During the rainy season bunch-grass flourishes all over the hill-sides, affording a fine pasturage for stock; and wherever there is water for irrigation the land is highly productive. The valleys are entirely destitute of timber, presenting a singularly desert-like appearance, except in those portions which are sufficiently moist to give a tinge of green to the everlasting sage-bushes by which they are covered.

One of the advantages claimed for the ledges near Austin is the facility with which they can be worked. The granite formation in which they lie is soft, and blasting is but little required in getting out the ores. They are all true fissure veins, with well-defined casings. The clay seam between the quartz and the casings renders the excavation of the ores comparatively easy.

The chloride ores reach from the surface to a depth of 60 or 70 feet. Then comes a lean or barren streak, extending down from 20 to 30 feet to what is called the water-level. It was this unproductive stratum which caused the extraordinary depression of mining stocks in 1864. But experience has demonstrated, in every case

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where the excavations have extended below the water-level, that the vein continues unbroken, and with every promise of permanency, to an unknown depth. Insufficient machinery for pumping and hoisting has hitherto been the great drawback to the profitable working of the mines. The miners, who have held on to their claims through all the fluctuations and alarm of the past two years, are now reduced to the necessity of calling in the aid of capital. This, in part, accounts for the extra-ordinary number of claims now flooding the markets of New York.

Of the vast number of mining properties offered for sale in New York, it is scarcely necessary to say that the great majority are valueless. Every adventurer who possesses the shadow of a claim takes it or sends it East in order that he may realize a fortune. There is no difficulty in obtaining an imposing array of evidence to demonstrate its value. Scientific reports and. certificates of assay are cheap—considering the prices for which worthless claims are sold. I do not mean to say that no really valuable mining properties are offered for sale; but it is certain they form an exception to the rule. Capitalists show a want of judgment in their investments, scarcely to be expected in men who are so shrewd in the ordinary transactions of business. I like this in them. It is pleasant to find a weak spot in the character of a class noted for sharp practice and hard dealings. It gratifies one's self-love to think that men who would deliberately refuse to lend him five dollars on his individual note at three per cent. a month, are susceptible of being imposed upon by the shallowest tricks of speculation. For myself, I have no taste for financial business—on the contrary I rather scorn that sort of business as a waste of valuable time which might be profitably employed in visiting remote and unknown countries. The consequence is, my most intimate friends in the business community are apt to regard me as rather a visionary and erratic character, unfitted by nature for the

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serious transactions of life. Sometimes I fancy they look upon me with an eye of pity, because I lose so many good opportunities of making a fortune. Be this as it may, I protest it would mortify me exceedingly to be guilty of such acts of verdancy as I have seen perpetrated by the sagacious business men of New York.

In the course of my Reese River experience I think I must have read a dozen pamphlets devoted to enthusiastic descriptions of mining properties purchased by New York companies, which to the best of my belief exist only on paper. A common error is to suppose the truth can be ascertained by a telegraphic dispatch to some confidential friend. Let us suppose a case: An immensely valuable property, comprising five hundred silver ledges, forty thousand acres of woodland, one hundred mill-sites, and twenty-five town-sites, is offered for sale at the moderate sum of two million five hundred thousand dollars. So confident of its value are the proprietors that they are willing to take two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash, and the remainder on mortgage at one per cent. or in stock, as may be agreed upon. Half a dozen sagacious capitalists take a fancy to this magnificent enterprise—not an unlikely supposition considering the number of ledges, water-privileges and town-sites. As business men, and on business principles, they offer the round sum of two hundred thousand dollars cash, and the balance in stock—provided, upon the transmission of a telegraphic dispatch to a reliable gentleman of their acquaintance in Nevada, the response should be favorable. The terms are accepted. The dispatch is sent. The reliable gentleman, if not one of the owners, knows the value of his opinion. He is not spending his time in a desolate mining country merely for pleasure. He must be a rarely reliable gentleman, indeed, to refuse an offer of twenty thousand dollars and a heavy contingent for recommending the purchase of a valuable property. If he examines it, he does so through the highly-colored spectacles of interest; he sees a mag-

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nificent prospect all over it, and reports accordingly. Neither you nor I would do so, dear reader, unless we conscientiously believed it to be a good thing; but the majority of men are not so scrupulous in their morals. Mining speculations, like transactions in horse-flesh, have a tendency to blunt the moral perceptions. Nine-tenths of the frauds committed in the sale of mining stocks have their origin in misplaced confidence. Surely no sensible man would purchase a horse from his father, uncle, or brother without strong collateral testimony from a disinterested party as to the value of the animal. Why then should he purchase a mine, or a ledge, or a mill-site, without taking similar precautions to ascertain its value? In this case, where the amount risked is so great, the chief trouble is to find a disinterested party. Your friend may not be interested in the particular property offered for sale, but it is quite probable he has a nice little enterprise of his own that he would like to submit to your consideration. Is it any wonder, then, that when the grand purchase is consummated, superintendents and experts appointed, machinery shipped, and every thing under way to develop the vast resources of the company's possessions, that the five hundred ledges are found to be merely conjectural, the forty thousand acres of woodland a patch of scrubby pines in some inaccessible mountain region, the hundred mill-sites scattered over a sage-desert where there is not water enough to run a grindstone, and the twenty-five town-sites agreeably situated in the middle of an alkali lake!

Now, if I had the honor of a personal acquaintance with a company of millionaires who had just engaged in a magnificent enterprise like this, do you know what I would recommend them to do? Issue a pamphlet at once, with maps, diagrams, etc., showing the extraordinary value of their possessions; rent a fine office at two hundred dollars a month; appoint a Board of Trustees who never saw a silver ledge; elect a President famous for his operations in shoddy; appoint all the younger

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sons, cousins, and nephews belonging to the most influential members of the company, and notorious for stupidity or dissipated habits, and send them out to carry on the business; then invite the credulous and unsuspecting public to take stock; and then in view of the dividends likely to accrue at an early day from this judicious course, I would modestly suggest that the author of this article having incurred considerable trouble and expense in qualifying himself to give this advice, would not object to a slight testimonial of appreciation on the part of the company.

It would be a source of great regret to me if any inference prejudicial to the interests of Nevada should be drawn from these observations. I am satisfied that great injury has been done to the State by fraudulent speculations. The mineral resources of the country are sufficiently wonderful, without exaggerated statements and ridiculous misrepresentations. No visitor who has carefully examined the ledges in and around Austin, or in the districts of Amador, Yankee Blade, Smoky Valley, Bunker Hill, Twin River, Washington, Marysville, Union, Mammoth, and other well-known mining localities, can fail to be impressed with the extraordinary richness and permanency of the mineral deposits. It is a great detriment to the country that the true character of its resources is so little known. The official reports on the Mineral Resources of the States and Territories West of the Rocky Mountains, recently published by Congress, will it is hoped do some good by disseminating correct information on this important subject. Every fraud committed in the sale of worthless mining stock has a tendency to shake the confidence of capitalists in really good investments.

That many swindles have been perpetrated, and many worthless claims palmed off on a credulous public, is beyond dispute; but it is both unreasonable and unjust to condemn the whole country because dishonest. men engage in nefarious speculations detrimental to its inter-

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ests. If there are no good mines in the Reese River country, where can we look for them? The man who is cheated in a horse would be laughed at if he complained that there are no good horses. Mining speculations are much on a par with speculations in horse-flesh. Brokers and horse jockeys generally make their profits from the credulity of their fellow-men. If every purchaser personally examined the mines offered to him, or availed himself of the services of an experienced agent, there would be less disappointment in the investment of capital.

The general direction of the veins in the Toyabe range is north-northwest and south-southeast, with a dip to the east. The pitch is from 30° to 70°, the average inclining from 35° to 45°.

From May to October the climate is mild; seldom too warm, and the sky almost invariably bright and clear. The extreme rarity of the atmosphere at this elevation, 6500 feet above the level of the sea, and the absence of moisture, give rise to a peculiar form of intermittent fever, called by emigrants and miners the mountain fever. Otherwise it would be difficult to find a more healthy climate. The winters are cold, though some-times open and pleasant. On the north side of the hills the snow usually lies from November to May. In the valleys it seldom remains more than a few days at a time, and rarely interrupts communication by the public highways.

Some idea of the wonderful progress of Central Nevada may be formed from a glance at the number of mining districts which have been established since the discovery of the Reese River mines. Austin may be considered the central point from which these districts radiate. Mills have already been erected in many of them, and active operations in the way of developing the mines are now going on in most of them. The following are the principal districts, located within the past three years, with the distances from Austin, viz: Yankee

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Blade, 4 miles; Amador, 6; Big Creek, 12; Geneva, 15; Santa Fe, 22; Bunker Hill, 30; Summit, 20; Ravens-wood, 20; Washington, 35; Marysville, 45; Union, 63; Twin River, 65; Mammoth, 63; Diamond, 80; Cortez 60; San Antonio, 100; Silver Peak, 125; Ione, 75; E. Walker River, 120; Egan Canon, 160.

These do not by any means comprise all the valuable districts which have been opened throughout the interior and on the confines of Nevada. I refer to them as having intercourse with Austin, and contributing in a great measure to the importance of that place as a market for the trade of the mines.

The high cost of reducing the ores has hitherto been a great drawback to the prosperity of the mining interests. While the Washoe mills can make handsome profits on ores ranging from $20 to $100 per ton, the Reese River mills are compelled, in consequence of the additional cost of roasting, to charge from $80 to $100 per ton. None but very rich ores can bear such costly working. A large amount of the labor and expense of working the mines is lost. Mills that could reduce $40 and $50 ores, with advantage to themselves and the miners, would soon make handsome fortunes. There is plenty of that grade of ore now lying waste over the hills.

CHAPTER LIII.

REDUCING THE ORES.

IN this connection a brief description of the process of reduction, under the improved system, may not be uninteresting.

When the ore is delivered at the mill it is placed in a kiln and the moisture evaporated. It is then crushed dry in the batteries and taken from them in cars, upon a railway leading to a series of hoppers in the furnace room. From the hoppers it is shaken down into the ovens, where it is roasted. While the process of roast-

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ing is going on, it requires to be constantly stirred so that the most minute particles may be subjected to the action of the heat. This is continued from four to eight hours at a charge, according to the quality of the ore. Rich ores and heavy sulphurets require a longer time than poor or light ores. Salt is added, according to the greater or less amount of sulphurets to be reduced to chlorides. The percentage of salt used is from eight to twenty, varying with the quality of the ore. Its effect is to develop through the heat a chlorine gas, which has a strong affinity for silver, and forms after desulphurization a chloride of silver. The base metals are mostly volatilized, and thus separated from the silver. As soon as the ores are sufficiently roasted they are removed from the ovens to the cooling and screening-room, where they are sprinkled with water to prevent wastage in the transportation to the amalgamating room. The next process is to collect the silver by amal-

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gamation. Some of the mills use the Freiberg or barrel process, which is conducted by means of revolving barrels. Wheeler pans are also extensively used. Differences of opinion exist as to the relative advantages of the various methods of amalgamation. A common practice is, to precipitate the chloride of silver by means of copper arms revolving in tubs. Steam is injected through small holes in the bottom of each tub, disseminating the quicksilver through the revolving mass. The silver chlorides, by contact with the copper arms, are precipitated in the form of metallic silver, leaving as a residuum a chloride of copper, which flows off into the tailings when the tubs are discharged. This process usually lasts from three to four hours. The silver thus collected is then placed in retorts and smelted. The best mills produce bullion ranging from 900 to 1000 fine.

After nearly three months of hard experience, during which I scarcely passed a day without exploring one or more of the mines, I am thoroughly convinced this is a very rich mineral region. Whether all the mining enterprises now in progress will pay is another question. I

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think Eastern people are too easily imposed upon by specious representations, and have too great a tendency to expend large sums of money in the erection of mills and offices before they fully develop their ledges. This evil will cure itself in time. Undoubtedly there will be heavy losses in individual cases; but I am fully satisfied there will be a large average of success where capital is judiciously invested, and mills and mines economically managed.

THE END.