Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1897-10-30
"PYRITES SAM"
~~~-~-~~~S-~~-~
BY e. e. B0WLES.
- - - - :. = - s-s : = ~,
TTTTTTT*TTTTTTTTTvTFTTTTS
TATE all thought Pyritcs Sam was

NIE all thought Pyrites Sam was a
w fool the very day he struck the
camp, but were not absolutely certain
until the night he came in with his
pockets full of pyrites of iron, and, talk
ing each man aside, privately informed
him, with many injunctions as to Sc
,crecy, that he had discovered and To-
Gated brass mine. AS rule, we had
grown very tired of initiating every
tenderfoot that came along into the
mysteries of quartz mining, showing
them the difference between gold-bear-
ing quartz and country rock; between
"A true tiSSure and contact vein; between
granite, porphyry, schist, spar, serpen-
tine, quartzite, ETC.; of trends, dips,
spurs, angles, ETC.; of shafts, tunnels,
Slopes, wines and drifts; of the manip-
ulation of the horn spoon or gold pan;
how to distinguish the resultant sedi
ment, if gold, from mica, pyrites or sui
phurets; in a word, teaching them in
an hour or two all we had learned after
years of toll and privation. We had
reached this stage of the tired feel
ing" when Sam brought in his brass"
specimens, and not man of us would
cell him what it was. "Uh-huh," we
said as he carefully exhibited his de-
ceptive-looking find. What did we
think of it? Why, it was great find,
and very high-grade ore-if it was
brass. "If"-why of course it was
brass; look at it; anybody could see
what it was. We admitted that they
could; yes, anybody that knew any
thing at all. So we permitted Sam to
work away in ignorance of his claim
for two weeks-until he received re-
turns from the samples sent to Los
Angeles for assay. Then the Brass
Monkey" as Sam called it, shut down,
and he went to prospecting again.
He was so persistent and industrious
in his determination to "strike it rich"
that we finally began to have fellow
feeling for him and to appreciate his
pluck; sympathy he did not need. He
was jolly and good-natured, and did not
drink to excess, and was never known to
turn card for money. In a friendly
game in his tent the suggestion of
draw" at only a dollar limit was al
ways met by the quiet statement that
he never played for money, that he was
raised differently, and, besides, his
money "came so hard" that he knew he
would be bad loser. He was always
ready with his sympathy when an
others ledge "pinched," "petered" or
~broke off," and encouraged him all he
could; always had a song or story for
a bad night, and in the event of sickness
or injury had some simple remedy in
the way of poultice that his mother
"used to use." In fact, he was one of
those happy-go-lucky, light-hearted
fellows, handy about camp, and friend
TO everybody, but one could not get
rid of the impression that he didn't
have any more sense than the law al
lowed" Therefore, it was accepted as
a matter of course, when tenderfout
struck camp one day in the first stages
of desert fever, that Sam should take
entire charge of him and dose him
with wild sage and "squaw" tea and
concoct appetizing dishes with bacon,
beans, rice and -four.
AS a "stayer," malarial or chagres fe-
Yer is not to be compared to desert fe-
yer. The latter drags along and hangs
on day after day, week after week, and,
although the patient may be able to
crawl about, he is weak, debilitated and
nerveless, and don't care rattle out
of the box" whether he lives or dies.
This was the condition of that tender
foot. During the middle of the day
he dragged himself about the camp
N fhn lNltf fha D,ninlaY. of l,a
time he spent in his bunk in his tent
One night, when most of the boys were
assembled in the Bedrock" Sam came.
an, and, going up to the bar, drank
alone, contrary to his usual custom,
then turned his back on the crowd,
leaned his elbow on the bar and gazed
out into darkness, at the same time
twisting his mustache fiercely as if
worrying over something.
whats wrong, Sam? Patient dead?"
some one asked.
NO" said Sam, "but he's layin' up
there wishin' he was. | tell you, pard-
ners," he continued, turning to the
crowd, 1--WE been in hard luck myself
-so've all of us, guess-an' seen 9th
-ers in hard luck, but that poor cuss up
there's in the hardest streak of luck
L ever see. He's plum down to bedrock
an nary color"
That's nothin', Sam; we've all been
4here many time. What's the matter,
out of grub?"
"Naw, he ain't out of grub, an won't
be as longs Sans got any; but it's
somebody else. / got letter for him
to-day on the stage an took it down
TO him. After he read it he jest turned
over with his back to me an laid quiet
but purity soon l shifted to where |
could see his face, an I'll be derned if
he wasn't cryin', yes, sir, cryin' like
baby, he's that weak, you know. says
to him easy like: What's the matter,
tpard?'
"'Nothin',' he says, only more hard
luck