The record-union., 1891-06-20
"OLD MAYNARD"
The Hermit of Windy Camp Sur
priSed in His Retreat.
The Strange, Weird Story of His Fif-
teen Years. Search for Gold In
Blackrock Canyon-His Mysterious
Discovery and His Disappearance.

W r1JIeD JOr Ifle ehECORD-UNION.l
shall endeavor to relate what has been
TO me a subject Of much thought and
wonderment. Doubtless the ordinary
reader will deem the following relation,
in the awkward style of one unused to
the pen as incredible, but the writer was
greatly impressed by a strange adventure
Of some months ago, and is more than
half convinced that there are many things
yet unknown and unexplained.
That strange secrets are often entombed
with. old men few viii deny. Old men
who have lived the time allotted, whose
lives have been seemingly unsuccessful,
whose existence obscure and, apparently,
uneventful, have not infrequently ac-
quired much knowledge. Lacking the
ability, or, perchance, the inclination, to
make themselves known to the world, or
falling TO obtain credence for odd reason
ing, half formed conclusions, or even
what may be to them established theo-
ries, they either despair of being under
stood, or garner wisdom and experience
TO no other end than their own SatiSfac-
ton. Dying, the theOremS of lives of
study, perchance invaluable philosophy,
IS lost. l do not doubt but that more
wisdom IS buried in a village graveyard
than is contained in all the books in the
world. 1t is a great thing to learn and
know, but greater to teach and make
known. 1t is not my purpose, however,
to strew these pages with philosophic
conJectures Of mine, but follow, as near
as | can, Il straightforward narrative
Some months since, having shot u deer
which, although severely wounded was
unable TO secure, l followed determin-
edly and far. For anear three miles it
Sta lcl
leading into higher and more remote
mountains, while, as is usual in such
cases, | expected at each turn to overtake
the game. Ultimately the tracks of the
animal turned sharply, and instead of
keeping the comb of the ridge, descended
abruptly the side of the mountain. This
knew to be sure indication that the
deer was becoming exhausted from loss
OF blood, and weak, If not dying. It.
however, descended the contrary side Of
the ridge to my course homeward, and it
was only through the possibility of its
falling quickly that l undertook the de-
Scont. was now far into the mountains
IN the eastern edge of a northern county.
Slowly tracing the wounded deer, by oc-
casional drops Of blood, found myself
at the foot Of the ridge, and the deer lying
dead IN the dense spiceWood by the
stream in the canyon.
Hastily dressing the animal / swung it
carry 1t, as, even unencumbered, I was
aware that l could hardly get out of the
canyon before dark. 1t was now sun
down, and the wildness of the locality
concentrated my attention. From far up
the canyon the swift stream came turn-
bling, rolling and roaring over its bowl
ders and the trunks of falling trees and
forest waste. Above and around the
steep bluffs and points Of ridges hemmed
the view and hastened the coming twi-
light
knew the stream as Blackrock, and
the peculiarly-shapedr ridge as Big Back
bone. Looking up the ridge from the
canyon its weird ruggedness was some
how awtllly impressive; but why it was
called Backbone l do not know, I
could see nor fancy no resemblance in
the mountain 70 anything describabIe. If
anything other than mountain of unu-
Sual rOughneSS and size, il reSembled
some mighty mythical leviathan. AS [
gazed upon it it seemed to throb as if
lndued with life when the forest and nm
dergrowth swayed in the evening breeze.
Somewhere a panther screamed, and the
brush crashed where deer or bear sprang
up the sides OF the canyon. | looked
about anxiously for path or trail. lead
1t IN any direction, so that il led out Of
the BlackrOck Canyon away from the
roaring Stream-1rom Big Back bone-I
would follow it.
l had traversed 40 great distance. but
owing to Driars and powders had been
Obliged to cross and recross the boiling
stream time and again, when I came
upon smooth trail, plainly evident,
which led up the opposite side of the can
yon. In the failing light l was surprised
TO see IN the soft sand near the waters the
tracks of q man and dog
Following the little path, which proved
worn and almost dusty, a few moments
climb brought me TO a natural bench, or
table, upon the spur 1t assembled. Paus-
ing to define my course from thence |
saw smoke curling upward from what
seemed huge rock few rods distant.
But for the smoke j should have passed
the spot unnOticed. Approaching I dis
covered snug cabin which stood (or
seemed to lean against a huge ledge of
gray stone. The cabin. built of hewed
logs, was weather-Stained. to so near the
color Of the ledge, that it seemed part of
the stone. / had seen a hundred such
nuts scattered among the mountains and
gulches, sometimes deserted. and again
occupied by miners, or prospectors, who
cllng To abandoned placers. or seek in the
most obscure localities for leads and lodes
but never one IN so bleak and lone a spot
as this.
IS l approached the cabin man came
from Its single door, STOPPING as he did
so, owing to the lowness of the caves.
lie had plate in his hand and whistled
repeatedly for q dog. No dog. however.
appeared, and the individual thereupon
uttered brief but sounding soliloquy,
evidently an iniandous tribute to the an
sent canine and all his tribe, ending up
his harangUe with vivid emphasis. 7
noticed that, while the language used
was slightly prOtane, the spirit of the
speaker seemed calm enough, and as the
last words, hurled out upon the quiet air
came back IN echoes from the canvon. I
M Tl,ry~ a
break the monotOnous quiet or muffled
roar of the black stream below. Even
echoes served to break the monotony-
the oppressive loneliness of the spot.
now recognized the hermit, one whom
had seen at long intervals in town as
old Maynard of Windy Camp. He was
quite familiar character TO many, so far
aS his occasional appearance rendered
hlm, but he seemed TO have no familiar
acqualntances. His neighbors were Ger
tainly few.
So this, then, was Windy Camp. A
glance was enough TO show that the spot
had every qualification for being q windy
one indeed. Old Maynard turned quickly
at the sound Of my voice. but a moments $
gaze was all the surprise he manifested
and, after quiet greeting, he invited me
into the cabin, remarking that | was a
httle late, as he had just finished supper
without further fOrmality he set about
preparing plain but substantial meal
appreciable enough 10 me, tired and hun
cry. After supper ! related my exploit
with the deer, and Maynard cordially in
Vlted me TO remain at the camp over
night. Remembering the nature of the
only route To town, and the difficulties of
mountain trails after dark, l remained.
Old Maynard was, perhaps. 80, above
the common stature, when he stood erect,
but his frame was bent and STOPPING
more, L fancied, from toll than weakness
or age. He was called ''Old Maynard,'