Coyotes Now Wander Unmolested Through The Brushy Streets, And
Of All The Busy Throng That So Lavishly Spent Their Time And Money
Here Only One Man Remains - A Lone Bachelor With One Suspender.
Mining discoveries and progress, retrogression and decay, seem to have
been crowded more closely against each other here than on any other
portion of the globe.
Some one of the band of adventurous prospectors
who came from the exhausted placers of California would discover some
rich ore - how much or little mattered not at first. These specimens
fell among excited seekers after wealth like sparks in gunpowder, and
in a few days the wilderness was disturbed with the noisy clang of
miners and builders. A little town would then spring up, and before
anything like a careful survey of any particular lode would be made, a
company would be formed, and expensive mills built. Then, after all
the machinery was ready for the ore, perhaps little, or none at all,
was to be found. Meanwhile another discovery was reported, and the
young town was abandoned as completely as a camp made for a single
night; and so on, until some really valuable lode was found, such as
those of Eureka, Austin, Virginia, etc., which formed the substantial
groundwork for a thousand other excitements.
Passing through the dead town of Schellbourne last month, I asked one
of the few lingering inhabitants why the town was built. "For the
mines," he replied. "And where are the mines?" "On the mountains
back here." "And why were they abandoned?" I asked. "Are they
exhausted?" "Oh, no," he replied, "they are not exhausted; on the
contrary, they have never been worked at all, for unfortunately, just
as we were about ready to open them, the Cherry Creek mines were
discovered across the valley in the Egan range, and everybody rushed
off there, taking what they could with them - houses machinery, and
all. But we are hoping that somebody with money and speculation will
come and revive us yet."
The dead mining excitements of Nevada were far more intense and
destructive in their action than those of California, because the
prizes at stake were greater, while more skill was required to gain
them. The long trains of gold-seekers making their way to California
had ample time and means to recover from their first attacks of mining
fever while crawling laboriously across the plains, and on their
arrival on any portion of the Sierra gold belt, they at once began to
make money. No matter in what gulch or canyon they worked, some
measure of success was sure, however unskillful they might be. And
though while making ten dollars a day they might be agitated by hopes
of making twenty, or of striking their picks against hundred- or
thousand-dollar nuggets, men of ordinary nerve could still work on
with comparative steadiness, and remain rational.
But in the case of the Nevada miner, he too often spent himself in
years of weary search without gaining a dollar, traveling hundreds of
miles from mountain to mountain, burdened with wasting hopes of
discovering some hidden vein worth millions, enduring hardships of the
most destructive kind, driving innumerable tunnels into the hillsides,
while his assayed specimens again and again proved worthless. Perhaps
one in a hundred of these brave prospectors would "strike it rich,"
while ninety-nine died alone in the mountains or sank out of sight in
the corners of saloons, in a haze of whiskey and tobacco smoke.
The healthful ministry of wealth is blessed; and surely it is a fine
thing that so many are eager to find the gold and silver that lie hid
in the veins of the mountains. But in the search the seekers too
often become insane, and strike about blindly in the dark like raving
madmen. Seven hundred and fifty tons of ore from the original
Eberhardt mine on Treasure Hill yielded a million and a half dollars,
the whole of this immense sum having been obtained within two hundred
and fifty feet of the surface, the greater portion within one hundred
and forty feet. Other ore masses were scarcely less marvelously rich,
giving rise to one of the most violent excitements that ever occurred
in the history of mining. All kinds of people - shoemakers, tailors,
farmers, etc., as well as miners - left their own right work and fell
in a perfect storm of energy upon the White Pine Hills, covering the
ground like grasshoppers, and seeming determined by the very violence
of their efforts to turn every stone to silver. But with few
exceptions, these mining storms pass away about as suddenly as they
rise, leaving only ruins to tell of the tremendous energy expended, as
heaps of giant boulders in the valley tell of the spent power of the
mountain floods.
In marked contrast with this destructive unrest is the orderly
deliberation into which miners settle in developing a truly valuable
mine. At Eureka we were kindly led through the treasure chambers of
the Richmond and Eureka Consolidated, our guides leisurely leading the
way from level to level, calling attention to the precious ore masses
which the workmen were slowly breaking to pieces with their picks,
like navvies wearing away the day in a railroad cutting; while down at
the smelting works the bars of bullion were handled with less eager
haste than the farmer shows in gathering his sheaves.
The wealth Nevada has already given to the world is indeed wonderful,
but the only grand marvel is the energy expended in its development.
The amount of prospecting done in the face of so many dangers and
sacrifices, the innumerable tunnels and shafts bored into the
mountains, the mills that have been built - these would seem to require
a race of giants. But, in full view of the substantial results
achieved, the pure waste manifest in the ruins one meets never fails
to produce a saddening effect.
The dim old ruins of Europe, so eagerly sought after by travelers,
have something pleasing about them, whatever their historical
associations; for they at least lend some beauty to the landscape.
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