Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1874-01-29
Miss Gray, or Sandy Gulch

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Sandy GulchI You as don't stol
! here, git breakfast We had deter
mined to stop here, and had kept thi
spot in view as an objective point du
, ring several hundred miles of stag
journeying. There is something wea
} , risome in six days continual stage ri
ding-becomes slightly monOtonOus il
twenty-iour hours cramped up in 1
corner, unable to lilo down or get q geoe
stretch, Is trial TO the patience Of th4
ordinary American. t..s
We cannot present an active-lookinf
picture of our fellow-travelers to you
nind-they were all too stiff and sore
and we might say out of humor. The
man who could rest his head anywhere
and sleep Was an object of envy and
distrust, and general desire WAS fell
by each wakefui one 10 pinch the man
driving you mad with his delicious
snOres. Twas at a time when oul
nerves, detached and shaken up, AND
our very brains sloshing around, we
heard the welcome sound, 'Saady
Gulch!'
Not very beautiful name, nor, 81
We pOked our heads out of the coach
window, did it look to be particularly
charming. Two hundred or more mi
ners' cabins that seemed to have start
ed from the stage station and got lost
in all sorts of places along the gulch;
odd little boxes of houses perched up on
the very top of an immense rock, or
nesting close to their mossy sides down
by the roaring mountain stream, or far
up Cn the mountain side, as the fairy
fancy of the rough owner in fee sim
pie dictated.
The main house, OF the Gulch was at
the Bar, and the bar was at the main
house,
The broad stretch OF golden sands,
washed by the heavy raips from the
mountains and deposited near the
mouth of the Gulch, gave the place the
name. The Overland always stopped
at the main house, we suppose on ac-
count of the bar. The coming Of
Skaggs, Jina Jones, and Boss Myers
was something to Sandy Gulch. They
were heavy operators, and the owners
Of the ronderous machines that were
up the Gulch battering away at the sill
yer ore. Even the bar-keeper shook
hands with all and said, 'What, is It
Shaggy" But we were unnotieed.
We, who bad come to edit the Miners
Friend, found none-nO, not one to do
US bonor. However, having visited
strange towns and edited several short
lived dailies before, we were prepared
to meet any fate like philosophers.
There was one passenger we pitied
in his lOnelinesS-nOt more than four
and twenty, slender, delicate, whose
face and form indicated the intellectual
man stripped of his grosser attributes
who shrank from the rude oaths and
bOisterouS merriment of his fellow
travellers, and who seemed as untitled
for their society as would an angel.
We say We felt sorry for him-such
sorrow as we sometimes feel for mex
perienced fellow-trayelers on life's
journey. 1t was whispered about that
he was a missionary. This opinion be-
came fixed when it WAS found. after re-
peated trials, that he would not drink,
nor had ne been known to swear du-
ring the entire trip-somethiDg truly
wonderful. His place in the coach had
been so far removed from Skaggs, Jones
q Co., that, much as we desired to
make his acquaintance, no opportuni-
ty was offered.
He, too, got out at the Sandy Gulch,
and the greasy register bore the name
of Rev. Milton May.
We learned that he had just gradua-
ted from one of our leading theological !
colleges, and had come to look after
the spiritual welfare Of the 'Gulch.'
The 'Gulchers,' big and little, were
to be brought under the sound of Mr..
Mays voice-that is, if they wanted to.
On the first Sabbath ten Of them did.
But Mr.. May, being an enthusiast and
an earnest Christian, determined to in
crease this number; and during the
second week climbed sluice-boxes,
jumped bitches, waded the creek again
and again, in pursuit of little working
parties of miners. Nor did he stop
with the workers. The lonely, weary
man, lying on his bunk, his frame
racked with pain, and seeing in fever
ish fancy the approach of dear wife
or mother, was sOothed by the pale
faced man.
The gaudy room behind the bar was
not free from him, for he entered and
invited Slick Dick who was dealing
faro, to come to the services at the logl
cabin. Strange as it may seem, he
came, and the room was full of those
whose ears had not heard one word Of I
these tidlngs in many, many years. +,
Ahl what may not the influence of one =
man have on community? OF course, q
the latter thought was entirely in con- Il
nection with ourselves. |,
The Miners Friend was succeeding; I,
we were aole to live and pay off such Is
of our liabilities as were pressing. We Il
were beginning to feel something ofthe i
delights of independent journalism.
The Territorial printing was ours, and e
we fondly looked forward to the Post i
of Sandy Gulch. But there II
was always more or less jealousy on Il
our part for the Rev. Milton May. He D
seemed to have made himself i'm le
popular, and we felt that the h
quiet, pale-faced man could have beat
en- US for the Legislature any time. a
We had respect for him almost e
to awe. One night, COM 7
ing from our office, we were nearly OPP
pOsite Jack BOwnan's, who Was lying
crushed and dying. The door was ajar, a
and the light from a tallow dip was a
softly thrown on the bed and forms. n
AT the bedside, kneeling with face up 9
lifted, wearing an expression We could Q
not understand, was Mr.. May. Thro' a
the misty years it comes to us, and We b
SEQ it with the reverence we saw it o
then. Some pictures impress them a
selves so deeply they are never forgot I
Ten, no matter what trials may rasp the 2
mind. p
Mr.. May was successful. So much 30
that it was determined to start aschool.
Think of it! school at Sandy Gulch. I
Well, do you suppose that they did L
not want school at the principal town C
Of the Territory? Were there no calcu- o
ations to be made i'm the great future /
Of the Gulch? Undoubtedly. q
1t must not be thought for one mo
ment that there were no children at
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