The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1879-05-03
THE OLD PROsPECTOR.
IEureka LeatlAr.l


"Iu the Spring. to alter an old quo
tation, the thoughts of the prospector
turn lightly to new diggiugs, and he be-
comes restless. and prepares himself for
u tramp, to that country which he has
been in search of for so many years; that
region where surface placers abound,
with rich streak OF gravel on top.
COARSE gold on the bedrock, and it a
pitching. Quartz veins and silver lodes
are all very we'll in their way, but to the
old-timer its a prosiac sort OF occupation,
and one that he engages in under protest.
II. it wasn't for the element of chance,
the bare possibility of striking it rich, he
would have quilted it long ago. True,
he has followed up all the excitements,
from White Pine to Phoebe, and from
the Black Hills to Bodie, but they did
not pan out we'll. Deadwood was prom
islng, and he had great hopes in that
direction, but the tender-heeis disgusted
him, their economical habits and small
bit customs were too much for his lordlY
impulses, and he returned to the con.
genial bar-rooms of Eureka, almost per-
suaded that tho last of the El Dorados
had been discovered, and that nothing
was left for him but to live on the glories
Of the past, and calmly await the time
when the familiar saying of "One OF the
old boys gone" would be applicable to
the case. 1t was sad state of affairs
for the grizzled pioneer. The times
were changed. and he felt himself out of
place. He had fled to the grey and bar.
rem mountains, and amidst the deserts.
thinking that civilization would not fol.
In n ha
churches for which he always professed
profound respect, but never attended,
grew numerous, amusements changed,
and fairs aud festivals, concerts and ex-
hibitions replaced the old-time fandanqo
and wandering theatrical troupe. The
papers grew dull, and instead of serving
up man for breakfast every morning,
or recording the winnings of Poker Jack,
or Rattlesnake Dick. substituted religious
columns, or rolls of honor Of the Sunday
school scholars. There was no longer
zest to life, and about the only occupa-
tion left was to pre.empta a section Of the
circle around a saloon stove, and with
some sympathizing comrade, recall the
memories of the past, the argonautic
days Of the brush.wood shanties on the
verdure clad slopes of the Sierras, when
he was young. and stout OF heart, when
ne toiled in the gulches during the day,
and was soothed to slumber at night BY
the signing winds that sang nature's
melody through the branches of the state
ly pines. How he longed to repeat the
experiences, yet remembered that thirty
years had lapsed since he first tried his
luck with pick and pan, in that delight.
full region.
But now a change has come Ger the
spirit of his dream. There arc whispers
of another country where placers abound
with the yellow gold. and he reads with
avidity the tales of the wealth of north
ern region. The name sounds we'll
Yankee Fork that is euphonious &
his ear and a reminder OF the nomen
clature of the California rivers. 1t il
out of the way, too. there are no rail
roads stretching their iron bands in tha
direction, and the wilderness invites him
he hears of old pards who have alread,
started, and he grows anxious. Th,
warm days are propitious for tramping
and he guesses that there may be some
thing in the reports. He is very nearl,
worn out, in other peoples Judgment
but his spirits are indomitable, and tn
chances to make stake are as fascin
ating to his mind now as they were
quarter Of century ago, and in fey
days he will be on the road, in compan
with many of his kind. Poor fellow!
will be perhaps the last of many simila
journeys that he has undertaken, the las
except the long journey to the unknow
land, where be may discover the realiz
alton OF that heaven, where the goo
prospector always strikes it rich, wher
the highways and byways are paved wit
gold, and the bed rock ia never barren.