Harris-Ingram Experiment

by Charles E. Bolton

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE MAGIC BAND OF BEATEN GOLD

  The demonetization of silver by the government in 1873, and its greatproduction, had reduced the value of the white metal one-half, so youngHarris resolved to seek for gold, and began a search, which proved to bea most romantic success.

  At first he hesitated to leave Montana, as its quartz veins and sluiceboxes in twenty-five years had poured out $400,000,000, and its mineralresources were yet almost wholly unknown. The area of this singlemountainous state could not be blanketed by the six New England States,and New York, or covered by England, Wales, Ireland, and Scotlandcombined.

  Finally Alfonso determined to follow the great mineral belt in asouthwesterly direction even to the Sierra Nevada Range if need be. AtLivingston he went south by railway through a gateway of the mountains,and up the fertile Paradise Valley, following the cool green waters ofthe Yellowstone alive with trout and equally gamesome graylings.

  At Cinnabar Alfonso joined a merry party of tourists, who mounted aConcord coach, and the four grays were urged to a brisk pace over asmooth government road towards the great National Park. How exhilaratingthis six miles' ride, and how imposing the scenery, as the coach entersthis Geologist's Paradise!

  The Yellowstone or National Park contains 2,288,000 acres, and is fiftytimes the size of France's greatest park at Fontainebleau. Its altitudeis a half mile higher than the summit of Mt. Washington, and the wholepark is encircled by snow-clad peaks and majestic domes from three tofive thousand feet high. This reservation by Congress in 1872, of 3575square miles of public domain in perpetuity for the pleasure of thepeople, was a most creditable act.

  Alfonso found that the park abounded in wild gorges, grand canyons,dancing cascades, majestic falls and mountains, picturesque lakes,curious hot springs, and awe-inspiring geysers. He and his party pushedthrough the Golden Gate, marveled at the wonders of the Norris andFirehole Basins, stood entranced before the mighty Canyon then bathed inthe transparent Yellowstone Lake, and by nine o'clock were lulled tosleep in the shade of fragrant pines.

  After breakfast next morning, while Alfonso and the hotel guests sat onthe porch, a retired army captain, who had served in the Seventh U.S.Cavalry, said he wished a party could be organized to visit GeneralCuster's monument east of the National Park on the Little Big Horn River.There the Government had marked the historic battleground, where on themorning of the 24th of June, 1876, two hundred of the famous SeventhCavalry and their brave leader, were overwhelmed and slaughtered by 2,500Indians under the famous chief, Sitting Bull. Custer was tall andslender, with blue eyes and long light hair. He had fought at Bull Runand Gettysburg, and was present at Lee's surrender at Appomattox. He waspromoted to brigadier general when he was twenty-three years old, andbecame major general when he was twenty-five. Eleven horses were shotunder him. Once he saved the flag by tearing it from its staff andconcealing it in his bosom. What Napoleon said of Ney is also true ofCuster, "He was the bravest of the brave."

  The recital of Custer's deeds nerved Alfonso to renewed efforts to winChristine's hand. He declined with thanks to join the captain's excursionparty, and early next day rode south into the upper basin of the Park,which contains over 400 springs and geysers; many of the springs in theirpeculiar shapes, translucent waters, and variety and richness of color,are of exquisite beauty. Alfonso visited emerald and sapphire springs,where it is said nymphs, elfs, and fairies came to bathe, and don theirdainty dress of flowers and jewelled dew drops.

  Many bronzed tourists had assembled, and their faces showed amazement asthey watched giant geysers in action. Suddenly the solid earth istremulous with rumbling vibrations, like those that herald earthquakes.Frightful gurgling sounds are audible in the geyser's throat. Sputteringsteam is visible above the cone, the water below boils like a cauldron,and scalding hot, the eruption becomes terribly violent, belching forthclouds of smoke-like steam, and hurling rocks into the air as thougha mortar of some feudal stronghold had been discharged. The stupendouscolumn of hot water is veiled in spray as it mounts towards heaven.Boiling water is flowing in brooks to the Firehole River, which is soonswollen to a foaming torrent washing away the bridges below. The valleyis filled with dense vapors, and the air is laden with sulphurous fumes,while the hoarse rumblings and subterranean tremors chill the heart.Beneath your feet are positive evidences of eternal fires, and all aboutyou the might of God. Alfonso was glad to leave this region of thesupernatural.

  He hastened across the Snake River, which winds through Idaho, and pushedon towards the Teton Range, one of many that form the Rocky Mts. In sightare snow-touched sentinel peaks kissed by earliest and latest sun. TheRocky Mts. or Great Continental Divide is a continuation of the famousAndes of South America, and jointly they form the longest and mostuniform chain of mountains on the globe. Amid the gorges of this systemof mountains, over 3000 miles in length, America's largest rivers havetheir birth, and find their outlet into the Atlantic, Arctic, and PacificOceans.

  These mountains are vast vaults that will hold in trust for centuries tocome untold supplies of precious metal for the American nations. Thisgeneral fact did not concern Alfonso. He was ambitious to unlock for hisown use only a single box of the huge vault. He was familiar with thewonderful story of Mackay, Fair, Flood, and O'Brien, Kings of theComstock Lode, and owners of the Big Bonanza, who paid their 600 minersfive dollars per day in gold, for eight hours' labor a third of a milebelow the earth's surface. The Comstock Lode yielded over $5,000,000 permonth, or a total output of silver and gold of over $250,000,000.

  For six long weary months Alfonso and his companion searched for golddown the Green River and along the river bottom of the Grand Canyon ofthe Colorado, till they reached the Needles on the A. & P. Railway.Thence they rode west to Kern River. This stream they followed onhorseback into the Sierra Nevada Mountains, all the time searching forprecious metals, especially gold. The mountains were crossed over toOwen's Lake, and a river traced north. Alfonso was prospecting in newfields, but his search thus far was fruitless. His companion sickened anddied, but Alfonso bravely climbed among the mountains hoping to cross thecrest and reach the cabins of friendly government officials on duty inthe park of the big trees in Mariposa County.

  It was late in the fall, grasses and leaves had browned, Alfonso's horsehad grown thin, and being too weak and lame to go forward, finally died.His provisions had given out; his own strength and courage had failed; heneeded water for his parched tongue and lips, but none was at hand; feverquickened his pulse. Sitting alone in the shadow of a giant boulder thatafforded partial protection from the gathering storm, his mind revertedto his home at Harrisville where abundance could be had, to his familythat thought him dead, and to Christine across the sea, whom he hadvowed to win with gold. All seemed lost. Alfonso's head reeled, he fellback upon the ground, and the early snows seemed to form for him ashroud.

  Good fortune guided this way a party of Yosemite Indians, who werereturning from an extended hunt for deer and elk. They had also slain afew bears and a couple of mountain lions. The dead horse first arrestedtheir attention, and then the exhausted miner was found asleep coveredwith snow. The Indians wrapped the sick man at once in a grizzly bearskin, fastened him to a pony, and carried him to their camp near the bigtrees. It was morning before Alfonso was conscious of his surroundings.Standing by him was a shy Indian maiden with a dish of hot soup. His bed,he discovered was in a burned-out cavity of one of the big trees. Near bywere several tepees, the tops of which emitted smoke. Straight,black-haired Indians in bright blankets moved slowly from tent to tent.

  Alfonso scarcely conscious had strange dreams. Sometimes he thought hewas in the Hodoo Region, or Goblin Land, the abode of evil spirits, wherehe saw every kind of fantastic beast, bird, and reptile, and no end ofspectral shapes in the winding passages of a weird labyrinth on a far-offisland. Then his dreams were of rare beauty. Green foliage was changed topure white, the trees became laden with sparkling crystals, roadways andstreams were laid in
shining silver, and geyser-craters enlarged instrange forms resembled huge white thrones in gorgeous judgment halls.Such fleeting beauty suggested to Alfonso's feverish brain thesupernatural, the abode perhaps of spirit beings. For days the medicineman and Mariposa, daughter of the Indian chief, watched and cared forAlfonso, whose life hovered over the grave.

  Mariposa, Spanish for butterfly, was a fit name for the pretty Indianmaiden. She paid great deference not only to her tall father, Red Cloud,but to the pale faces whenever in their presence. For four yearsMariposa, unusually bright, attended the Indian school at Carlisle, Pa.;when she returned to her wild home in the forest she was able to speakand read the language of the pale face, and beside she loved history andpoetry.

  One day, Alfonso's health having slowly improved, Mariposa put in hishands a small pine cone, the size of a hen's egg, and said, "Three yearsgo by from the budding to the ripening of the seed of the sequoias, orbig trees."

  Alfonso did not know, till Mariposa told him that the big trees werecalled sequoia in honor of a Cherokee chief, Sequoyah, who inventedletters for his people. She also told Alfonso that there were at leastten groves of big trees on the northern slope of the Sierra Nevada range;that some of the trees were thirty feet in diameter, and 325 feet inheight; that sixteen Yosemite braves on their ponies had taken refugefrom a terrible storm in the hollow of a single sequoia. Alfonso prizedhighly a cane, fashioned by the Indian maiden from a fallen Big Tree. Thewood had a pale red tint, and was beautifully marked and polished.

  Part of the Indian hunting party went forward with the game, whileMariposa, Red Cloud, and three Yosemite braves with their ponies, waitedfor the handsome pale face to recover partially. Then they rode withAlfonso among the Big Trees, past Wawona, toiling up long valleys,stopping now and then to cook simple food. The Indians followed afamiliar trail up dark gulches, along steep grades, through heavy timber,skirting edges of cliffs and precipitous mountains, the ruggednessconstantly increasing, till suddenly Mariposa conducted Alfonso to a highpoint where his soul was filled with enthusiasm. Mariposa, pointing tothe gorge or canyon of extraordinary depth, which was floored with foresttrees and adorned with waterfalls, said, "Here in the Yosemite (grizzly)Valley is the home of my people. Here we wish to take you until you arewell. Will you go?"

  Alfonso, still weak and pale, but trusting the Indian girl, replied"Yes." The young artist-miner had never seen such stupendous masonry; thegranite walls that surrounded the valley were a succession of peaks anddomes, from three thousand to four thousand feet high, all eloquent inthought and design. Alfonso began sketching, but Mariposa motioned himto put his paper aside, and the six Indian ponies with their burdenscarefully picked their way into the paradise below.

  Red Cloud, Mariposa, Alfonso, and the braves were received withexpressions of joy unusual for the stolid red men, and Alfonso was givena tent to himself near the chief's big tepee, close by a broad clearstream, and in the shadow of large old oaks. Here for several daysAlfonso tarried, grew stronger, and often walked with pretty Mariposa.She taught him a novel method of trapping trout which thronged the river.She had him sketch the reflection in Mirror Lake of cathedral spires anddomes, of overhanging granite rocks, and tall peaks of wildest grandeur.

  He also sketched several waterfalls fed by melting snow. Mariposa'sfavorite falls at the entrance to the valley made a single leap ofhundreds of feet, and when the white spray was caught by the breezes andthe sun, the lace-like mist, sparkling like diamonds, swayed gracefullyin the winds like a royal bridal veil. "The highest of a series ofcascades," Mariposa said, "was called 'The Yosemite Falls.'"

  Here eagles soar above the Cap of Liberty and other granite peaks.Robins, larks, and humming birds swarm in the warm valley, and abundanceof grass grows in the meadows for the Indian ponies.

  As Alfonso's strength increased, he walked more frequently with Mariposaalong the banks of the river, by the thickets of young spruce, cedar, andmanzanita with its oddly contorted red stems. At times, each vied withthe other in bringing back echoes from the lofty granite walls of thevalley.

  One sunset, as Alfonso and Mariposa sat by the river bank, Alfonsoholding the light redwood cane, the gift of the maiden, he took theshapely hand of Mariposa in his own and said, "Mariposa, I owe my life toyou, and if I am ever rich I will come back and reward you."

  "I shall miss you," said the maiden shyly, "I want no money; I am happybecause you are well again."

  "Mariposa, I have long searched for gold," said Alfonso, "but finallyI lost courage, became sick, and you know the rest. You have a ring ofbeaten gold on your finger, did it come from near here?"

  "My father gave it to me," was all that Mariposa would say about the ringas they separated for the night.

  It was past midnight when Alfonso felt someone pulling at his shoulder.There in the moonlight stood Mariposa beckoning him to come. Quicklydressing, Alfonso left his tent without speaking as the maiden put herfingers to her lips, and quietly following Mariposa they walked by thesilver stream into a wild gorge. Graceful pines afforded cover forMariposa and Alfonso, as swift of foot, they scaled high cliffs, till theIndian girl held aloft her hand, and above in a cleft of white quartz theyellow gold shone brightly in the moon's rays.

  When the time came for Alfonso to leave the Yosemite Valley, one ofnature's masterpieces, tears filled the eyes of lovely Mariposa. Heearnestly thanked Red Cloud and his daughter, and, saying good-bye,mounted his pony, a gift from Mariposa, when the girl ran to him andwhispered, "Here, Alfonso, is the ring; bring it back to me when you arerich, but you will forget Mariposa."

  "No! no!" replied Alfonso, "I will bring back the ring, and you shallgive it to the one who makes you his bride." Then the Indian girl turnedher face toward the Bridal Veil Falls, and Alfonso rode sadly out of thevalley.

  After several years, still wearing the magic band of beaten gold, havingdeveloped the Mariposa Gold Mines into property worth millions, Alfonsoleft the far west to seek beautiful Christine.