LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1775, 28 October 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE LOST SILVER MINE. I was mining on the Broad Top in Pennsylvania when I was commissioned by.the Northern Pacific Railroad Company? as one of a party of three civil engineers to. make a barometrical survey oi; the Skagit snd Sauk Passes of the Cascade Mountains in Washington Territory. This was in 1370. The Skagit Pass was supposed to exist. No whiteman had a knowledge of it. The Cascade mountains ar-3; a continuation, of the Sierra Nevadas. The Skagit, Pass, iff it existed, was the most northerly .one in. the range on American territory. It wa. supposed to be about forty miles south of the British boundary and to be duo east, of the Fidalgo Island in Pnget Sound, and of San Juan Island, which is bettor.knowm. When this survey was ordered the directors of the Northern Pa oifio. Railroad. Company, as well as the United States. Oo vernment, had apt sufficient knowledge c,f the tremendous mountain barrier batvs een the Columbia ,li(ver and the Pacific, the route by which tha projected no-ad could best reach . the sea. They had; ta feel their way in tho dark. _ Tins will expl'sdi i the long hesitation in fixing the western h ;rmiuus of the railroad and the seeming? in<w .rtitude of policy shown in tha-large pavciv of land on Puget Sound for aoeouni.of 'che company at Bellingham Ray, What<y ,m, Whidby Island, Utsalady, Seattle, Olyr npia, and elsewhere. No man knew whew, the railroad would, could or - should terr ainate on Puget Sound; and those purchase .g were scattered to insure the speculative! netting of the terminus somewhere.

Well, our business is, to find out if a railroad of standard gauge a in be built across the Cascade range through t he Skagit Pass or the pass channelled by 4b/ , Sauk Biyer, which is the southern brunch, ai the Skagit. The party organises at Whaiaor on Bellingham Bay. We embark, in thus# , canoes, accompanied by ten Indians. Thfcj - , a ddles are dipped in the cool salt water we have started on our ■trip, across the, b ay, then through sloughs, over scantily ewr e red mud flats until the Swincmieh Flat/ , a re reac hed There the Swinomish slaii* is taken, and wo are soon

at an Indian, agency. Here we camped for the night,, dreadful place, damp, swampy, and alllictO'i with mosquitoes. These were so thick that the remark of one of the natives was but hfcf i e exaggerated. Moving around a , « smudgy' fire p had built, so as to keep in the lius, c f t}] 6 smoke, I injected an 'exclamation or- two into my conversation with him, aboui. the troublosomences of the Northern mojqrjr [toes. Hardly interrupting his story, the r .ative said: “ We don’t call them thick uabj3 a c l u b thrown up in the air comes down k*®'’ .dy,” and without a smile he kept on with , tale of an elk as big as a mule. Next morning we start for the Skagit i Kiver and got as far as the settlement below / the “Jam.” Though it is far from nightfall, our chief halts and makes camp, and j stalks majestically around for the admiras tion cf the settlers. The camp being pitched 7 under some wide-spreading cedars, I strolled f off to the river, got into a canoe, and crossed 1 to where I saw some men clearing the forest, i They stopped work, and we seated ourselves r on a log, talked and smoked. They told me 3 that it costs 2Oodola per acre to clear this i land, and as I looked at the large trees from - four to six feet in diameter, I believed it. I • asked them If they knew of the passes through the mountains. They did not ; t they had heard of the Sauk Pass from the I Indians, but never of the Skagit Pass, r Soon tiring of the wood-cutters, I wander I off, and wandering come to a log hut in > front of which a white man is sitting on a 3 stool, watching two little half-breed children , play in the sand by the river. Leaning 3 against a great cedar, I watch the children s play, and look at the man. There is some--3 thing in his appearance, as he sits before me.

that impresses m<7 as being different from the Missouri Pikes I have just left. So I stand, unseen by him. Mid look. Across the river is a jolly party of Indians. They laugh loudly, talk incessantly, as they cook fresh salmon. They make a pretty picture as they move and act around tfce'.r fire, shaded by the great evergreens. A neatly dressed, flat-headed Indian woman comes out of the house. Passing the white man without a word, she utters some gutturals to the children who are playing. They hurry into a canoe; the mother follows, and quickly paddles across to the fish-cooking party. Leaving the shelter of my tree, I walk slowly toward the man. He starts as he sees a’ strange face, I introduce myself. With a smile he says that his name is—well, Jackson will do. At once I see that I have stumbled on an intelligent gentleman, lam asked many questions. He seems to be greatly relieved to find that the Northern Pacific road will not be built at once. He presses me to stay to supper, to stay all night. I, more t han willing, consent. We eat a hearty meal of salmon and ■lettuce; then, dragging blankets out to the rough porch, we lie there smoking and talking. He seems glad to see one just from East, and asks if I have ever been in Philadelphia, Baying that he was born and educated in that city, I describe the city as it was when I last saw it. When I finish, he, with a weary sigh, laments the wasting of his life on the banks of the Skagit. As the moon rises the scene changes, mellows and becomes indistinct. The fire across the river shines brightly, flecking rhe sleeping Indians. The river grows beautiful as it flows at our feet. Becoming confidential, I ask Jackson why he stops here, raising peas and potatoes for a limited and niggardly market. He hesitates a minute, then says: ‘I will tell you why.’ And ho relates this story :

‘ Years ago I was placer mining on tho American liiver. la our employment was an Indian. We had treated him well, paid him as we agreed, and ones or twice stood between him and danger from drunken Pikes. Naturally tho Indian looked on us as friends, and when he saw that we were interested in the reported discovery of quartz mines, he became interested, too. One night, while sitting in our cabin, he said that he would tell us what happened many years ago between his tribe and white men who came up from the South. ‘ The tribe he belonged to lived to the east of the mountains—Sierra Nevada—and passed their time then, as now, in hunting and tending their stock. Included in their domain was a vast track of arid desert, really the bed of some long-extinct ses, surrounded by -mountains. There were many small valleys leading from tho sand to the mountain reeks. Every year a party of white men came up from the far South, bringing a large train of pack mules. The animals carried water-casks, fuel and tools. Establishing a camp, some dug in the ground; others packed wood and water to the camp ; others tended a fire and melted what was dug from tho ground and cast it into small squares, white in color. Frequently these white men had slight misunderstandings with the Indians; but they wisely conducted themselves peacefully, and, on the whole, treated the Indians honestly. Our Indian’s father noticed that always the same men came back—never new ones ; and that one of the number was missed, and on inquiryy.the Indians were told, ‘He is dead.’ * These strangers from the sonth worked all Summer. On the approach of Winter they loaded the mules with the white bricks and. silently filed off toward bhe mountains to the south, and soon were lo st to tba tribe for another season. One Spi ing they came with new men among them, and a larger party than before. They we re overbearing and insolent, An Indian wa s beatan with a

stick, and that night runner; 3 were, seat out to gather the clans of the tr ibe, A council was held, medicine was mad e, and it was decided to kill the white men from the south, to fill up thojhole they'had i lug, to..tear down their fireplaces, and keep their- mules. A night attack was ideten ninecl on. The night was fixed, and inb srcousse with the whites- was resumed. ‘ On the appointed night the braves attacked the sleeping camp , and. all the whites were killed. The hole was filled up, the fireplaces torn down, thi 3 mules divided, and ‘the .tribe went to a favo rite camping ground. That night the tnedicinr j man prophesied that if any member of tl ie tribe shonld ever reveal to anyone thfj whereabouts of the dead white men’s tr easure, the tribe would be devastated by dis ease. So every man in the tribe was bound by oaths not to divnlge the secret of the r aine on pain of death. From that day to th .is no white men came up from the South. ‘ That is what the Indian told us,’ said Jackson, ‘ All thf ,t Winter we three partners sifted and cross-e jxamlned and led up to onr Indian’s story by many ways; but as originally told i t was retold again.’ ‘Jim, the Indian—’ Jackson was continuing, whe' a I interrupted him with, ‘Hold on I I wanj.-a drink.’ Walking down to the rapidly flowing Skagit I 1c aned. over and drank my fill of , liquid ice. Hcjoining the exilo from Philadelphia, h/3 started anew with his story. I filled api pe, wrapped a blanket around me, then lyi’ag on the floor on my back I told him to go ahead.’ -

‘Jirn, tba Indian, agreed to take ns to this ’nine. Of course, yon understand that tkos 0 Southern men were Spaniards working a silver mine,. the ore of which was rich enough to pay for packing water and fuel into a desert. If it paid them, how much more would it pay us, who could command capital to .work it properly? By Spring we had sold our claims on the American, had bought sixteen pack and saddle mules, had bought a cargo of food, and only awaited the falling of tho rivers to start on the hunt for that mine. Ona night wo slipped out of camp, and Jim piloted us across the mountains, into the land of his fathers—a dry, arid country, abounding in sage brush, jack rabbits, sage hens, huge buffalo crickets and gigantic grasshoppers. Issuing from the base of tho mountains were a few streams of water, and in tho little valleys made by this water was fair grazing.

‘As yet we saw none of Jim’s people. One day he halted his horse, and, pointing to a cleft in the hills across the dry basin, said that his tribe was there. It was about noon, and, being exceedingly hot, Jim advised us not to try to cross until night. So wo camped, and I looked into the cauldron of heat that lay before us. Tho hot air rcBJ from the ground in vast waves and drifted slowly southward before a gentle wind. I could almost believe the ancient sea water was again there—a constant changing, as if of waves of water on a lake, ever rolling to the south. Whirlwinds would move slowly off. Some would rise into tho air, there to bo set free, slowly to descend to the desert, like small dark clouds ; others would rise in their place, and in turn would fall. The wind grew stronger, and the sand lifted it in a dense black cloud, which went scurrying to the south to bo closely followed by another. I was quite willing to take Jim’s advice and wait.

[To be continued.)