Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1897-08-19
An Admiral Of AirShips.
BY ELWYH |. HOFFMAN.

IN ms mouth and reminiscent express
sion in his gray eyes. He is lying under
the rough shed of the old blacksmith
shop, which, like big bat, clings TO
the mountain side just where the great
North Yuba makes a sharp bend and
roars down the canyon towards CHM
minis point. Before him, at his feet,
there are few yards of almost level
ground-a sort of platform, in fact
dug out of the steep mountain side, on
which stands the shop. From the outer
edge of this platform it is sheer drop
OF hundred feet to the bed of the
river below; and above it the mountain
rises so steeply and SO woodedIy that
one cannot see its top. From one side
of the platform a narrow, twisting
trail leads down to the river; and from
the other side rutty wagon road winds
up at very steep grade and disappears
from view among the gray nut pines
and the green poison-oak bushes that
cover the hills. 1t was down this mar
row road that Clark and his outfit came
Two wagons and four horses, to say
nothing of a dog and a rough-looking
boy, comprise Clark's outfit and
Clark is a peddler who runs fruit and
and Browns valley.
4 mile or so down the river, at CHM
minis point, there are Indians at work
in the gravel, and once a week Clark
comes down here to sell them fruit.
On the little platform in front of the
old shop he camps, and the Indians,
in parties of two, three, and half
dozens, come up the twisting trail
from the river and dicker with him for
all sorts of fruit. They are not stingy,
these Indians-what to them are the
little particles of bright stuff they
wash from the river bed, when they
are hungry for watermelons and such
things, and Clark shows them how
much he will give them in exchange?
And Clark weighs the dust in the little
scales that never lie," and they go
back to their rude windbreak, or
rough shanty, minus their weeks ear
nings, but enriched by boxes of pIums
and other fruits.
Once in awhile Clark camps over
night at this old shop, and whenever he
does all the Indians near there, some
two or three dozen, come up and camp
with him. Wild times they have then;
for Clark always brings n big jug of
bad whisky when he comes, and some
how the Indians get hold of it. Clark
himself has not told me this-CIarll
AYERS that the stuff that transforms
''Scar-Faced Dick from a peaceable
citizen to the Terror of the Hills is
brought to the Yuba in bottles and
drawn from barrel which reposes be-
hind the bar of n saloon in French Cor
raj, five or six miles away. But how
ever this may be, whisky the Indians
get; and the more whisky they get, the
more trade Clark enjoys. Guileless
Clark
Clark has made his sales, and his
wagon is almost empty. The boy and
the dog and one team have gone up the
valley, and Clark is only waiting to
smoke a bit before he also pulls out
And so, while he rests, lying on the
soft, smooth pine needles that have
sifted in under the shed, his pipe in
his mouth and his long legs out
stretched, he is telling story to man
who is devouring some big blue plums
as though he had been tramping over
the hills for two long hours. And this
is the story he tells:
There's somethin' goin' on down
here among the Injuns. don't know
exactly what it is, but think it's some
thin concernin' old Potts. Who's
Potts? Well, I'll tell you who Potts
is. Potts is a squaw-man; but that
amt all, Potts is crazy. But before he
became lunatic-who was he? Well,
he was Potts, that's all-Levi Potts, of
Ohio. He came out to California in the
early days and he went into mining
He didn't pan out much at it-didn't
get into the savvey of it, guess; any
way, he didn't get rich, and so he went
to work for people up here in the hills.
You know Charley Coles ranch at
Bridgeport? Well, you've noticed them
stone walls, one on each side O. the road
there by the. house? Potts built them.
He put all them big rocks in place with
his hands, one on top the other, till
he had fence made that reckon will
last a good while longer'n he will. 1t
was no picnic to build them walls,
either, for them rocks was pretty hefty,
] tell you. But Potts was strong-the
strongest man at liftin' that ever came
into the hills. Did you ever see him?
No? Well, he's n six-footer, broad
shouldered, straight, and with arms
long and jist big punches of muscles.
He's not as strong now as he was once,
but in spite of the life he's led and the
years he's passed, he's strong enough
GO. handle two or three ordinary men.
well, after Potts was in the hills
here for awhile he got to teamin' on the
road. 1t was while he was teamin' that
he began to git looney. The long. heavy
grades, the hot summer, the sweat and
the dust, seemed to break him down.
don't much wonder at il, for it amt
very pleasant work-teamin' amt, Go
in up them steep grades with two
wagons loaded with all they'll carry.
and IL or II horses and mules to han
dle-and sometimes ballxin'-it amt
cheerful work. In the first place, the
road amt straight-it's as full of crooks
and turns as the Yuba there" waving
his pipe. "Of course you drive with a
ierk-line-though the team generally
knows as much about bringin' them
wagons around a turn as you do. But
the grade is so steep, and the wagons
loaded so heavy, that you can't go more
than few yards at a time; and it's the
.everlastin' stoppin' and startin' that
wears a man plum out.
Every time you start the horses
and mules have to scratch gravel to git
the wagons movin' and the dust comes
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