Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1910-10-15
wiLEs OF PROSECUTORS,
Death Valley Grub Stake Eaters Are
Somewhat of Grafters.

Somewhat of Grafters.
Don't make the mistake of suppos-
ing the prospector to be the victim of
circumstances or venture to commits
esate him upon life condemned to
hardship and dissolution. He would
tell YOU. though in more forcible idiom.
that those to be pited are those whose
bread and butter requires that they
live inside fences. He has a small use
tor cities and civilization. Seen at
close range or heard at first hand, the
life of the average prospector hardly
seems to justify his choice credit upon
his judgement. The quest of the MINI
BILE pay streak is a picturesque one,
but more picturesque between the COW
ers of magazine than elsewhere.
The annals of mining districts are
full il tales of lucky strikes, of wealth
uncovered by single blow if casual
pick, of mines worth millions stumbled
upon by the merest chance. The other
side of the shield is less attractive For
every man that has achieved wealth,
or even a competence. in the tOiling
search there are hundred who have
not even the price of a fresh grub
stake to show for years of hard work
Out OF the thousands of claims in
single district a ridculously small per-
cent nave even paid the recording, fee.
Of those whose ventures are built on
the great American principle if taking
a chance, the prospector is the biggest
gam bier of all. On the elusive posi-
bility of some day making big strike,
he is riskins more than his time and
Is Dor. or the bacon, beans and flour
that constitute his grub stake. Even
for the most experienced the desert
harbors g multitude of pitfalls. Any
one of a score Of accidents-a way mis-
,dnen, a distance iniScalculated
trifling sunSicknesS, Il leaking canteen
miSStep on the rocks lurking rep
tile may make heap of bones the
grisly monument that marks his last
claim.
A case in point was that of Superin-
tonGent Perry. of the Daggett Borax
Works, man Thoroughly acquainted
with the desert. He started on horse
back from teaches Point. carrying an
ample supply Of food and water and
travelling a plain and perfectly famil
lar trail. Some hours out his horse
| SilONtt S'SIlS VI SIChIieSS. SlIuSSICI IL
short distance and finally fell under
HIM. Perry did everything possible to
restore the animal. hut it died with
in an hour. The trip was imperative,
and he determined to complete it on
foot. His canteen still contained wat
er enough to get him easily to Hidden
Springs where he could get fresh
supply.
Late in the afternoon, as he was
trudging through a rocky piece of trail
his alert ear caught the waning whir
of q rattleSnake close to him. He
leaped to one side, stumbled against
q projecting point and fell, breaking
the canteen against a sharp rock. Its
contents We're instantly sucked up by
the thirsty sand. less than mOuthful
being left. Holding this in his own
shadow 10 lessen it's evaporation and
mOistening his lips with stingy drops
at Intervals. Perry pushed on toward
the Springs now about 40 miles away.
BY nightfall his tongue was so bad
ly swollen by thirst as to prelude
from his mouth. AT o'clock, COM
peteIy exhausted. he lay down in the
trail. where an hour later he was
by the driver OF a boraX team. The
coming of this team. without which
Perry would undoubtedly have died
where he lay, was a mere chance. 1t
had been DELAYED earlier in the trip,
and on the trail was "a hours behind
it's usual time. In commenting upon
the experience, Perry remarked that he
merely sat up until l O'Clock that night
drinking water.
To one whose thirst is quenched
from a riiciile-Dlated faucet, the hare
fact of what lack Of water means, in
the deserts kiln-dried air and blist
cring heat sounds like fancful exag
geration. In the sink of Death Valley.
where the mercury rises to $50 in the
shade without any shade end the
humidity falls to less than l per cent,
men iave gone insane with canteens
less than an hour dry. They have
fallen and died scant quarter of
mile from a flowing spring.
Dementia is, in such cases. an al
most invariable precursor of the end.
1t nanifcsts itself strangely. and sell
dom twice alike. Near the head of
the grimly-named Paradise Valley.
stretching is the north from the Calico
Range. is a large yucca under which
is a great heap of powders. Beside
It, a pine board, nailed to a stake.
bears the penciled scrawl Grave of
John c. O'Brien.' They found him
there, his arm still outstretched in Il
great hole he had made with no other
tools than his hands. torn and stripped
fleshless in his frenzied digging for
water. In that strange well they bur-
led MIN and piled stones above to
guard against the prowling coyotes.
Desert lore is replete with legens of
great finds made by men in the bour
of extremity. and never rediscovered.
There is a familiar similarity about
these tales that suggests that. if not
wholly truthful. they are at least
patterned after a common model.
The great Peg-Leg mine is such
one; another the marvellous Breyfogle
Butte. which. as the story goes. is
huge mass of quartz in which nestle
Jumps of virgin gold like raisins in a
pudding More famous than either.
however. is the Outworn tradition of
the lost Gunsight lead. in search of
which particular wild goose scores of
men have gone and not a few have