The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1905-10-22

Some years ago, standing one even
ing IN front of the Enterprise effice in
Virginia City, New, the state miner
alogist, General Frank Stuart, hap
pened to join our little coterie Of talk
ers. He was just in from Tuscarora.
then a prosperous mining camp about
forty miles northwest of Elko, where
he was interested in some claims. }
naturally asked him, after the uspIl
salutations had passed, how were
things over in his district. He threw
up both hands and with horritied ex-
preston exclaimed: Mcguire I'm
done for good with Tuscarora. What
GO you think? Two days ago, when
the stage drove in, the first TO aiight
frim the inside was a galoOt with a
plug hat, a linen buster and carpet
bag. l could stand the building OF a
church there. but this was too much,
and so here l am"
/ thought of Frank Stuart and his
prejudices--Or viii we say SupefStl-
tions?-when on landing at Las Vegas
/ recOgnized-the old king OF the
Whip" the last of his tribe, Baby
Sackete. whose experiences for more
than half a century of hair-breadth es-
capes would furnish material for many
an DER true tale of such adventure as
can now be only found IN the tales OF
Cooper or Captain Mayne Reid. Badly
Sackete was old when a boy, and now
he Is but a boy. although he jauntily
laughs off the weight of nigh eighty
winters. He stands as straight, his eye
is as bright, and his tongue is as ready
20 rattle OF a good story as when L
hrst met him, then the most celebrated
stage driver OF the entire west with
only the exception of Hank Monk, near
~ forty years ago. After hearty
greeting and a pleasant alluslOn 10 old
times. his face assumed such an eX-
preston OF utter disgust as he pointed
across the track and facing where we
were standing, to an automobile, and
there was a pathOs in his voice. Say,
We have no bizness on airth any more. "
j thought OF Frank Stuart and his
"carpet-bagger."
'If you're goin' to Bullfrog you go
by the old reliable, the old mud wagon.
She'll leave tomorrow and she won't
blow ye up on the desert ayether,"
Assuring Badly that should I go to
Bullfrog I would follow his advice, and
with another handshake we parted,
with a promise, however, he would
call round later at the hotel.
Going to Las Vegas. after passing
the famous canyons the country eX-
pands into a wide desert plain bounded
on either side by low-lying mountains,
barren of vegetation. a dreary waste
on every side and a tropical heat pre-
Vailing that one is reminded Of what
the roads Of the Syrian deserts, and
the more 50 as one realizes
that they are in the Damascus OF
the twentieth century when they land
at Las Vegas. How cool and refresh
ing TO the heated traveller to hear the
pleasant sound Of the gurgling waters
of the creek that skirts the town ana
leads down 10 the famous rancho,
which truly is an oasis in this wide
desert. It's Oriental association is fur
Their aided by the very appearance of
This city or tents. 1t is Damascus.
There is the street called straight"
1t runs parallel TO the railroad. aAd ESQ
long is il that the end is not in view.
At the depot. on the trains arrival, the
passengers are besieged by Il horde of
runners for hotels and roOming houses.
Houses? / beg pardOnv-tontS. Several
express wagons are on hand. the owner
of each one DANGEROUSLY yelling out
Haul your baggage, sir?" etc. 1t is
time for the evening meal and bells are
ringing i'm front of restaurants with
such force as one would think would
crack their braZen cheeks. Dust! Oh
heavens, dust everywhere, and SO fine
that IL floats in languld clouds from
the time the first live animal moves in
the morning. until all business is sus-
pended at night. Nothing escapes its
penetration, and that its ravages on