VANISHED GOLD MINES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue XII, 21 March 1896, Page 321

VANISHED GOLD MINES.

An interesting chapter in the history of gold and silver mining which still remains to be written is that relating to lost mines—that is, mines of fabulous richness, once discovered by some lonely prospector, and then lost by some fateful incident or chain of accidents. In every gold and silver bearing district stories of these marvelous ‘ finds ' are current, and West Australia, the latest gold field of all, is not without its crop. There is no inherent improbability about the better known mine myths, if we may so term them, because in a wild country where there are practically no land marks it is by no means a difficult matter for an uneducated man. with his tremendous secret to keep, to make a mistake as to his location

The * Lost Cabin ’ mine is a good specimen of the kind of thing we have in mind. One day, forty years ago. three men named ‘ Kit ’ Carson, James Kinnev and a half-breed Blackfoot came into Fort Randal, on the Missouri river, with a bagful of nuggets and a storv of gold deposits of incredible richness in Cabin creek, a branch of the north forak of the Cheyenne river. Everybody went crazy. No white man was supposed to have been within 500 miles of the place, and indeed men were (at that time) being cut off by Indians within five miles of the fort. Carson and Kinney went on a week's ‘ spree/ and soon gambled away their gold, but showed no disposition to take a party to the new El Dorado. The United States officers at the fort discredited the whole thing, and dissuaded the crowd from following it up ; but men started out and none returned. Presumably, the Indians saw the last of them. The redskins, no doubt, knew of the existence of gold there, and. of course, wanted for several reasons to keep the whites out. and they did effectually for thirty years. A thousand lives and a mountain of treasure were spent in seeking for the Lost Cabin, but in vain ; and it was only quite recently that other gold discoveries were made along the same creek.

The story of the lost ‘ Lake of the Golden Bar ’ in Alaska is one of the strangest ever narrated. There is an expedition even now on foot to look fcr it. In August, ISS4. three adventurers, named Hamilton Galt. Charles Ulrich and Walter Stanford, went tramping north from Butte. Mont., and at the end of eight weeks found themselves near the Yukon River in Alaska. There were well-watered valleys, where game was abundant, and traces of gold were found everywhere on the ’ bars ’ and shores of the streams. The sun was shining gloriously, when suddenly a small lake came into view. In the words of Galt himself: • Its rays struck with a slanting flood upon the bar, and scintillated in a thousand golden slivers directly across the water into the dazzled eyes of the thunderstruck men.’ There were bad Indians roaming around, but what cared they now? All three yelled with delirium. Tbev threw down their rifles and swam for the bar—a small island in the lake, thirty feet from the bank. The first nugget weighed six pounds, and was almost pure gold. This was Gait’s catch. Stanford, whose nickname was ‘ Ole ’ gathered up nuggets and scooped up • dust ’ as fast

as he could transfer the stuff from the ground to hi pockets. But it remained for Ulrich to make the biggest ‘find.’ He had landed a little lower down. In walking through the shallows toward the shore he struck his foot against a sharp rock as he thought But as he lifted it out of the water there was discovered a nugget of almost pure gold, estimated at fifty pounds, or not much less than that figure in weight. Their ideas was to gather gold enough in the cache to make them all rich before the actual cold weather set in, and then to go south and to return again with a proper equipment. Just as preparations had been made for this move, a large body of Indians attacked the prospectors, killed ‘ Ole ’ and burned their hut ; the two others got separated, and had to leave most of their treasure behind them, and pick their way south as best they could. Ulrich, it turned out afterward, contrived to reach Fort Wrangel penniless. Galt, who was afraid to go near the camp because of the Indians, kept in the neighbourhowl for two days, and then commenced his lonely tramp back. There was no sun to point him right. The long winter nights had commenced. It became colder and colder; the thermometer ranged far below zero. Snow came in masses and blinding blizzards. ’ I wandered on and on,'he says, ‘always with the instinct of self-pre-servation strong within me. I never thought of giving up. Hunger, cold, snow, ice. fever, delirium—nothing mattered ; but lite—sweet life. I went on this way for weeks. Through that terrible winter of 1884 I wandered in that awful wilderness.' Paralyzed, bleeding from wounds on the body, head and face, frozen, the sight of one eye nearly gone, attenuated to the mere shadow of a man, he at last came to a human habitation on March 25th, ISSS, about twenty miles from Bonner's Ferry . but he means to see the ‘ Lost Bar ' lake again.

The story of the * White Cement' mine is a curious one. One day a gold-seeker named White came into Horse Head gulch, California, from Northern NewMexico and took out of his pack a number of pieces of what looked like hard white clay glittering with specks of metal. Before night it was known in the camp that White's specimens showed t,ooo ounces to the tou. The excitement was intense. In the morning a party called on the owner of the specimens and told him that he must pilot the men to his find. He should have the pick of the claim and help to work it. but go he must; and on his refusal was w’arned that his life would not be worth shucks if he ‘ stood off.' the camp. Then he consented. The trail went down and across the Rockies. It led along rocky trails, up and do wn canyons and across mountain creeks. On the evening of the third dav White said the miners were near to their iourney's end. Everyone lay down that night expecting to arise a millionaire. In the morning White was gone and had left no trace. One-half of the party, after incredible suffering, got back to life and civilization ; and yet, despite their story, 100 men started back over their trail two days later. Three years after. White re appeared in Sait Lake City with his cement specimens as before, incredibly rich, and again disappeared, and from that time to this has never been heard of. But men still wear out their lives in seeking this ‘ Lost Cement ’ mine.

For many years there has been a legend prevalent in Port Hickson and in the country round aoout that somewhere in the Shawangunk Mountains in that vicinity there is a cave or mine containing deposits of wealth in gold and silver. The legend of the hidden treasure is, in effect, that years ago—nobody knows how many—an old Spaniard or an Indian lived somewhere in the Shawangunk Mountains near Port Hickson. This person was known by the name of Ninety-nine. Why Ninety-nine the misty record does not pause to say. But of this thing the legend is positive : Ninety-nine was over partial to whisky, and it was his favourite pastime when he was drunk to scatter gold pieces about the settlements, to pull a handful of diamonds from one pocket, and a string of pearls from another, and from other parts of his opulent person clusters of rubies and glittering lots of other precious stones, and parade about among the Dutch settlers an animate and inebriate Golconda No one could ever find where Ninety-nine lived He never permitted anyone to accompany him from the settlements except once, and that was a short time before he dis appeared forever from those merry scenes. The exception was a boy named Benny Depew, and it was when he was in his cups that Ninety-nine took him blindfolded to the mountain home and showed him over his treasure house. Heaped in glittering confusion on the floor were bars of gold and silver and domes of coin. From every side resplendent jewels glared at him with myriad eyes, while Niuety-ni: e thrust his baud into a cask, and taking it out and holding >t above his head released what he held within it. A stream of flaming diamonds fell back into the cask. These were some of the things that Benny said he gazed upon in Ninetynine's cave. But the greedy custodian of all that fabulous wealth permitted him to feast his eves but a short time Then he blindfolded Benny again and led him away’. When the bandage was a second time removed from his eyes. Benny was standing on the top of one of the highest peaks of the Shawangunk overlooking the Mamakating valley. Ninety-nine was gone. And he was never seen again. This story has an unmistakable suggestion of the ’ Arabian Nights,' but only a few years ago a company was formed with a capital of #25,000 to search for the lost treasure. Half the capital was paid up. However, the only exhaustive work done was by the treasurer of the company. He did it on the company's treasury. When bis work was done the treasury was exhausted of the #12.500. and he had gone elsewhere. The company turned its attention away from hunting for the lost cave, and went to hunting for the lost treasurer.