Arizona republican., 1904-03-07
OLD RESURRECTION
A Truthful Hassayampa Tale by
 Frank Alley.

Am d Hassayamper? Say, toss me that tibacller an I'll tell ye all about il. Now. don't go 10 c&cusin' yourself fer carryin' lorg green-ttat is just the article I've been hoanin" for for four months back.
 Well, to proceed; had been the guest of 'Elinkey' Howard at Fort Mis- cry. on Goose Flat in Prescott. for some tinc (the good Lord shaped the wind so as to spare that sacred shrine of the pioneer durin' the great fire about three year aCO). and 'Blinkey' told me stories of the Hassayamp till I was wild to go. By and by did go. I carried gooi credentials to all the old boys down the river and on the 'chOlla flats. I had two burros and it took me some time to learn how to pack'm so the summers accumulations would not roll over and carry the little animals down the hill. One burrO was of the masculine gen der and the other was not. The male bl;rrO 1 named Bryan, because he was always pulling back the other one I named Patti, because she could sing. That was the only family I ever had except ct present writing I am the proud possessor of a smart, spike tail, aristocraic pup. and I can tie q baby blue ribbon on that pups tail and move in the best of society. NOthin' like as- sociations to give man a stand;n'. you know.
 Well, down at Walnut Grove I fell in with old Tom Carter, not to mention the whole gang. Then sam Powell came along and taught me Them Erin de Steers and old Dad Peoples and Uncle Henry Wickenburg and George Monroe and George Barnard and Bob Archer and-well, all the old thorough breds happened to drift into my trail and eradicate the tenderfOGt idea in the shortest possible time. Then I fell in with Bert Ford, and fell out agn, and fell in aSin. ard finally we doubled up our thirty-seven years accommodations including blankets. grub and buTrOs, and hit the hills together. We struck across the head of Ophir canyon, near old Fob Grooms place headed fer the cactus jungles on Domingo creek where Bert said the goldsstuck out. like becswaX on some of these Castle creek cliffs. About mile out from the old Mexican settlement on Domingo creek we found little pay streak in a small bar of gravel It was the first /native gold I had ever handled, and two bits worth looked like bushel of yellow corn to me. At the close of the first day I wanted to go back to Prescott and buy the Burke Hickey and make a present of it to Mayor Howard in ap- preciation of his hospitality on Gooze Flat. We improvised a crude dry washer on the ground and went to work and at the end of a week I was planning to go back after the old girl and a silver mounted carriage-they had no buzz wagons those days-but all Of this, as the Tennessee man says, is neither here nur thaar.' I simply men tion these little details to show ye that I have been on the Hassayamp', and before l get through you may sus- picion that I have drunk from it's limpid bosom. though everything have to say is a. God almighty's fact.
 "Wc were workin' on the Flap Jack extension of the JumDin' Jehos1 pha t and had to go about a mile to camp Now. I had an old canteen that h d been the one source of torment to me since my first prospecting campaign had commenced and had come very nearly causing strained relations be- tween yours truly and his partner That old canteen was as resonant as shaft bell. Then the braces were loose in it and every time you picked il