The Salt Lake tribune. [volume] (Salt Lake City, Utah) 1890-current, 1913-10-05

when ! was hose.cart driver for No.
9S. His discourse runs to the subject
OF gold He says that certain mount.
aims IN country down south that he
calls Gaudymala is full of it. He saws
the Indians wash il out of the streams
IN plural quantities
q" oh, Geronimo says |. Indians,
ihere S no Indians IN the south. | tell
him, except Elks, Maccabccs and the
buyers for the fall dry goods trade
The Indians are all on the rescrva.
tions, says l.
:" m telling you this with reserva.
tioDs, says he. 'They amt Buffalo
Bill Indians; they're souattier and
more pedigreed They cali 'em mixers
and Aspics. and they was old inhabi-
tantss when Mazuma was king of
Mexico They wash the gold out of
the mountain streams saws the brown
man, and fill quilIs with it; and then
they. empty 'om into red Jars till they
are full; and then they pack it in buck.
SKIN sacks of one arroba each-an ar
roba Is twenty-five pounds-aud store
IT. IN stone house, with an engraving
OF n idol with marcelled hair, playing
a flute, over the door
How do they work off this un-
earth increment asks.
They don T., says the man 1T IS
great deal of velocity where wealth ac-
cumulates and there amt any reci-
procity. -
After this man and me got through
our conversation, which left him dry
OF information, ] shook hands with him
and told him ] was sorry | coudn { be-
neve hun. And a month afterward /
landed on the coast of this Gaudymala
with, $1,000 that l had been saving up
L.. l.. I
Indians liked, and l fixed myself ac-
cordingly. | loaded down four pack
mules with red woollen blankets,
Wrought-lron pals, Jeweled side.combs
FOR the ladies', glass necklaces, and
safety razors. I hired black mozo,
who was supposed TO be a mule driver
and an interpreter too. 1t turned out
that he could interpret mules all right,
but he drove the English language
much too hard. His name sounded like
Yale key when yon push it in wrong
which was close to tho NOISE
'Well, this gold village was forty
miles up In the mountains, and 1T took
us nine days to find it. But one after.
noon McCllntock led the other mules
and myself over rawhide bridge
stretched across n precipice 5000 feet
deep, it seemed to me. The hoofs Of
the beasts drummed on it Just like
George M. Cohan makes his first en-
trance on the stage.
'This village was built of mud and
stone, and had no streets. Some few
yellow brown persons popped their
heads out-of-doors, looking about like
Welsh rabbit with Worcester sauce on
'em. Out of the biggest house, that had
n kind of a porch around it, steps a
big white man, red as a beet In color,
dressed in fine tanned deerskin clothes,
with a gold chain around his neck
smoking cigar, I've seen United
States senators Of his style of features
and build, also head walters and cops,
He walks up and takes a look at
us, while McClintock disembarks and
begins to interpret to the lead mule
while he smokes cigarette,
Hello Buttinsky. says the fine
man to me. How did you get in the
gamel ] didn't see you buy any chips.
Who gave you the keys to the cityq'
- m q poor traveller says l. 'Es-
pecially mule-back. You III excuse me-
Do You run hack line or only q
bluff2'
!" segrcgatc yourself from your
PseudG,eggine quadTuped' says he' land
He raises finger, and villager
runs up.
4" This man will take care Of your
outfit says he, and III tako cnre of
you
- He leads me into the biggest house,
and sets out the chairs and q kind Of a
drink the color Of milk 1t was the
finest room ] ever saw, The stone
walls was hung all over with silk
shawls, and there was red and yellow
rugs on the floor, and jars of red pot.
terry and Angora goat skins, and
enough bamboo furniture to misfur-
nish half dozen seaside cottages.
90 sIn the first place says the man,
you want to know who | am. I'm sole
lessee and proprietor Of this tribe of