Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1873-07-26
~ LOGGERHEAD GULCH.
A Tale of a California Mining Camp.

LOGGERHEAD GULCH.
A Tale of q California Mining Camp.
Some incident in its early career had
given Loggerhead Gulch its name.
Just what that incident was did not
live in the traditions of the rough
miners who dug and delved in the
gulch. Certain it was, however, that
the name was no misnomer for no
other mining camp in the territory was
so rough, quarrelsome and pugalistic
in the natures of its inhabitants.
Everybody seemed atloggerheads with
everybody else, and ready, upon the
slightest provocation, to lynch every
body else.
The digging had not, of late, been
very productive of profit, and that fact
did not add to the kindly spirits of the
miners, who were disposed to revenge
their luck upon anything that present
ed itself as possible scapegrace.
No mining camp can exist, or at least
ever has existed, without a drinking
saloon, and Loggerhead Gulch had its
shanty devoted to the retailing of drink.
Its proprietor was Jack Jeptha, and
his dress and demeanor indicated that
he had seen better days-had been a
faro dealer or barkeeper in a big
Eastern hotel, or something of that
fiashy nature. Even now some traces
of loud dressing hung about him but
the brim of the felt hat was battered,
and there was something the matter
with its crown; the flaming red tie
failed to harmonize with the almost
equally flaming and shaggy read beard
Immediately above it; the shirt collar
was wofully time e-stained; the yelveteen
coat was much smirched, and had
grown white at the seams, and at least
three buttons were lacking to the vest.
The only other occupant of Jack
Jeptha's shanty at the moment that
the reader is introduced to it, except
ing the customers, was a young wo-
man-Jack's wife and Mollie by name
And, with her really delicate beauty,
she seemed wonderfully out of place in
Loggerhead Gulch. She was about
the middle height, between twenty
three and twenty-four years of age,
slim and elegant as to her figure, fair
as an angel is painted, with soft eyes
and dropping lashes her mouth was
small, her lips full and rosy, her teeth
white as pearls. When animated or
talking to any one, pleasant, fascinat-
ing smile would play around her
mouth; but at times when she fancied
no one was looking at her, the corners
of her mouth were drawn down with a
hard, careworn expression. Herround-
ed shoulders and voluptuous bosom,
white as alabaster, were revealed by a
low dress. She shared the honors of
the bar with Jack, and dispensed bad
whisky and smiles to the Loggerheads
with dash and grace that largely aug
mented the aggregate sales.
Among the drinkers was one upon
whom liberal potations had told con-
siderably. His companions called him
Towhead, from the color of his hair,
and that was the only name he had in
camp. In his pocket he had fair
sized bag of gold dust, which he had
incautiously displayed several times
during the evening.
: At twelve o'clock Towhead rose to
60; but first he called Jack Jeptha
outside the door, and placed the bag
of dust in his hands.
"Thar's my pile, jack" he said,
and | want yer to keep it till to-mor-
row. I'm little too drunk ter take
it along with me, and thar might be
somebody as would foller me for it. "
Jack slipped the bagi in his coat, and
both returned to the bar-room.
Soon afterward the party broke up
and departed. Towhead's way led
him solitary walk of mile or more;
and as he left his companions, the
form of man skulked after him in
the shadow. Thus followed, Towhead
staggered along until his path led him
through deep narrow gully, which
had been dubbed the Devils Glen
Then and there his follower STEALTH
ly advanced from behind, and killed
him with murderOus dirk stab. A
hasty search of the victims pockets
convinced the murderer that the prize
for which he had committed the vii
lainous deed was not there. Then
the cowardice of the man showed It.
self. A storm had been coming up,
and now, as it burst forth in thunder,
lightning and food, he shivered. With
blood on his hands, and with horror
in his eyes, and with the dreadful
mark of Cain branded ipdelibly on his
brow, the wretched man fed, clutehing
his breast with his pale, talon-like
fingers, as if to tear hence his coward
ice.
On he went, flying over rocks and
chasms and unrooted trees-On, on,
still on, unable to stop, until he sank
exhausted beneath huge pile ofrocks.
The storm was wildly, madly cannon
aiding against the rocks, as if it would
tear its way to where he lay, and bold
ly engulf him; but he heard nothing
but an imaginary unearthly cry of
I" Murder1''-saw nothing but the
cold. still face and lifeless form of his
victim.
Towhead had pot been murdered
fifteen minutes before bis body was
discovered by party of miners return
ing from some midnight carouse. They
carried it back to Jack Jeptha's shan
ty, amid threats of vengeance upon the
murderer. Arrived there, they laid
the body on the floor, while one of the
fix up hurried dram, in the vain hope
of reviving the murdered man. His
ewes fell upon the bag of dust, with
Towhead's $ mark upon its side.
What's this?" he said, holding it
How did it come here ?" asked
others.
Jack Jeptha turned pale as he real
lied the prsdicament in which he was
nlacad He gave the true YER