The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-10-31
AN Old Prospector's Life.
Denver Tribune.

Mr.. Curtis Chamberlain of the Dan.
yer University has q picture in the a.
department of the Exposition of AN old
~prospector. Simply in it's technic M
a good piece of work. In a higher ana
better way, it is a fine work Of art. ~.
of the rare pictures that appeals &
the feelings and awakens memory int
vivid life. The picture is of q griz2lad
and gray miner, with O battered hal
unkept hair and sun-browned face. r.
n hand he holds a magnifying glass
and in the other a piece Of oar
The look in his eyes and tha
smile on his face say as plainly as words
could say, Give struck it.
Instinctively the one who sees 4
thinks of the strange life it Represents
How often he has watched the sama
look on the face of prospectors, and
how often in q day or two the look has
changed back to the ordinary, indiffer.
ent or contented one that fate's hard.
est butfetings never destroys. One
wonders if the cid prospector will 90 to
bed as rich in q week as he seems to be
and thinks he is now. Long, LONG
years ago the old man learned that
"Oft expectation fails and most
Where most it promises
And if tomorrow the good ore in his
discovery hole plays out" he will not
be surprised or disappointed. The reali,
cation of his hopes, that for a day SEEM
ed to take form as tangible fact NAV
have taken its place in the long line 81
others like it that have gone before.
The life and character of the cid
prospectors are things that are best un.
derstood. Most every one knows the
life is one of exposure, toll and danger;
but few know that it has it's compensa-
tons. There is q freedom about it that
only his type of men can aver enjoy.
We never saw an inveterate prospector
who was not by nature a poet and boz
hemian, though he did not know it
himself. There is something in the
wildness of his surroundings that finds
a responsive chord IN his nature. AS
he Climbs up the mountain side these
summer days, and up above him against
the blue sky there lies a bank of snow,
he sees it touched with changing hues
of violet and pearl that flush and fade
along the horizon, and feels a Joy and
happiness that he can not, perhaps an
alyze; he only knows that he enjoys the
life.
The prospector is necessarily an
o~ptionist. He cannot appreciate the
gloomy probabilities of the future; hope
always paints it in the rosiest colors.
II he we're of the nature that coolly
stopped to think of the host Of blanks
and the few prizes there are in this
great lottery of chances, he would cease
to be a prospector. He is much of a
Colonel Sellars, and he is only acting
natural when he puts a fabulous price
ON his prospect hole. He can see mil
lions in it" and wonders why Others
cannot see til same. No one so well
as he has had the opportunity to learn
Glow quickly nature falls into revolt
When gold becomes her object
Yet no one is so sure that in his pres
ent and particular case nature is en- his
side. His representations are not dis
honest; they are simply the voice of an
over-hopful nature. He lives an ideal
life. His residence is a grand castle
in Spain. He lies on the hard ground,
with a ragged blanket for a bed, and
looks up through the pine boughs and
leaves in the shining stars. Then fancy
weaves her web and he is on q bed OF
down, drawn round with silken ribbons.
He is in his castle in Spain.
He eats his bacon and bread from a
tin plate and drinks his muddy coffee
from a tin cup. In his castle are tables
set with shining glass and frosted sll-
yer, and bubling champagne invites his
thirst. Homeless, wifeless, childless,
he dreams OF an earthly heaven that will
some day be his when his ship comes
in, and enjoys the dream maybe more
than most men can enjoy the reality
Sometimes, perhaps, cold and fever may
lay their hands upon him, and his lone
~ life pass away, while only angels are
present to close his eyes. No wife or
child will mourn his loss, and when his
whitened bones and grinning skull are
found men will wonder whese remains
they are, and over them will place the
simple inscription Unknown.