GhostMiner

He didn't think so.

This is bringing back some bad memories of that night.

July 2 2002 Part Two I was shocked when I saw the amount of gold in the pans. They were loaded with fine gold. Jacob just shook his head and stated flatly that the sluice was set up wrong. He said we needed to have a meeting at supper. I agreed. We finally shut down just after 5:00 PM and pulled the mats. We had run 270 yards of pay gravel. Everyone got cleaned up for supper and we sat down to a good meal of hot dogs, baked beans, and some store bought corn bread which Jacob loved so much. We cracked open some beers and I reluctantly conveyed the problem with capturing fine gold. Everyone was upset. Jacob said we were probably losing over 60 - 70 % of our gold. When we had set up the sluice Vern was the guy who was in charge. He and Jacob had gotten into a bit of an argument over the angle of the run. Vern swore up and down that a sluice needed to be set at 15%. Jacob had disagreed. He said because of the amount of fine silt and very heavy black sand we were dealing with, the sluice should be somewhere between 6 to 8 %. Vern had scoffed at this and Jacob had got angry. Now we were about to start down the same path. Jacob got out his bottle and had a shot of whisky. Vern had himself a shot of whisky as well and the two of them began to butt heads. Vern was a young whipper snapper and figured he knew what was what about the sluice and trommel. Jacob once again stated his thoughts on the angle. He said Vern’s setup was costing us ⅔ of our day's work. Vern disagreed and said every miner knows you set a sluice at 15%. Now this was the wrong way to say it and Jacob became infuriated. For a minute I thought he was going to grab Vern by the throat and squeeze the life out of him. Jim and I looked at each other with horror. TO BE CONTINUED ................

July 2 2002 Part One Once again the crew was up before dawn. We were all in a hurry to get that big trommel turning and making gold. Jacob will be very busy today dealing with all the concentrates he has to clean up from yesterday's run. We are still taking turns on night watch duty as well as keeping a watch on the pump and water line during the day. It’s impossible to watch the entire length of line at once but we are doing the best we can while still mining for gold. We all had breakfast together and were feeding the hopper with pay gravel by 7:00 AM. The forecast was for very hot weather as usual. The early mornings were comfortable but by 10:00 AM the sun was getting strong and the temperature rose quickly. Each day was usually between 95 to 110 degrees and the sun was brutal. We had Jacob’s cleanup station set up in a shady spot and he never complained about the heat. I don’t even think he felt it. There was a short break for lunch and we were back at it. Everything was running smoothly and I had the trommel set to run 30 yards of gravel each hour. This was a very comfortable speed for the beast as it was capable of 45 - 50 yards or more per hour if pushed. I just wanted a steady pace with no problems. Around 4:00 PM Jacob came over to me and told me the results from yesterday’s run of 160 yards. I was surprised because it was not as good as we were expecting. We had made 38.7 ounces of gold which was far below the rate per yard we had been doing with the tom but it was still a large amount for the yardage processed. Jacob said we had either started to lose the big pay streak or we were losing fine gold out the end of the sluice. He said if we were losing gold it was a whole bunch of it. We would have to check our fine tailings. I didn’t say anything to the crew right away as we were planning on shutting down around 5:00 PM. Jacob and I took two pans and scooped up some of the fine tailings from the back end of the sluice and took them over to the tub to pan. TO BE CONTINUED ................

July 1 2002 We were up early and the crew had breakfast together as the sun rose. The air was fairly cool this early but heated rapidly by late morning. We got the new sprocket on the trommel and also had a backup sprocket ready just in case. The big pump was in place and connected to the larger hose as well. We had the sluice all set and by 10:30 AM we were ready to mine. Jacob did the honor of firing up the beast and Jim got the big pump sending our water down the mountain. Vern was in the excavator and sent the first bucket of pay through the grizzly/hopper. I kept a close eye on the trommel to make sure there were no issues. I told Vern to just work it easy for a few hours and if it went well we’d kick up the pace some. So Vern was sending about 20 yards an hour through the feeder. We decided to work right through lunch. Vern picked up the feed pace some and everything ran smooth as silk. I brought out some sandwiches which got wolfed down while the trommel did its thing. Jim stayed up at the pump on watch and walked the waterline back and forth at times to guard against hooligans. We shut everything down at 5:00 PM and pulled the mats. We had run 160 yards of pay gravel. Jacob would do the cleanup tomorrow. However, we did put some concentrates in a pan and washed them at the tub just to see what the gold looked like. We had a look at the results. The pan was brimming with coarse gold. Things are looking up for us now. TO BE CONTINUED ................

June 30 2002 Part Two We got to work early and had a good start to the day. On our lunch break I went to town and got some good news. We’d have our trommel up and running in another day. That put everyone in a good mood. It had been about three weeks or so since we had been able to use it. In the afternoon we settled into a nice, relaxed pace. Just knowing that big trommel would be washing gravel soon allowed us all to take a sigh of relief. By 5:00 PM we had managed to wash 30 yards of gravel and we decided to pull the matts and do our cleanup instead of waiting for tomorrow. I figured we’d all be pretty busy getting the trommel up and running. Once again, the gold weigh was extremely rich with 19.7 ounces in the jar. I could only imagine what kind of numbers we could get with the washplant in operation. TO BE CONTINUED ..............

June 30 2002 Part One I didn’t sleep all that well last night. I couldn’t get the gold weigh out of my mind. I was also extremely nervous about trespassers and robbers coming out here. If we were being spied on word about a strike could spread like wildfire. If we could just get the trommel back up and running we could bank a motherlode and get the heck out of here. There are months left in the mining season though and I doubt anyone will want to leave early because the fever has consumed the entire crew including Jacob. I have it as well but I also want to get back home safe and sound with all my gold. What if the thugs are planning on letting us work in peace for a long while and then rob us? What if someone gets killed out here on this cursed mine? This just keeps going round and round in my head. I suppose I need to get this stuff out of my head and plan on working until the snow flies. That’s what Jacob would expect from us. TO BE CONTINUED ...............

Not someone I would want in my camp. Loose cannon!

I can smell gold fever.

THE DEMISE OF SLIM SAUNDERS. April 23 1937 I wasn’t up very long and was making a good breakfast when a deputy came trudging into camp. What now I thought? He was investigating the incident with Slim and the shooting demonstration from last night. I played dumb and told him I had no idea what he was talking about. He asked the crew and they all said the same. Slim was not in his tent. He must have seen the deputy coming. The law dog told us that Slim was bad news and that if we were hiding him it would not go well for us. I told him we didn’t know any “Slim” and had seen many drifters come and go on or near our claims. The deputy said he had a warrant for his arrest for reckless use of a firearm as well as strong armed robbery. I just told him that if we see any strangers we will let him know. With that the deputy walked out of camp. I continued with my breakfast and about fifteen minutes later Slim walked back into camp. He had been hiding at the edge of the woods and heard everything the deputy had told me. I asked Slim what the facts were. Slim said it was all a bunch of bull and he never robbed anyone. He said that one night he had scared the hell out of a guy and the man gave him some money just to avoid a well deserved beating. Slim said the guy had made some remarks he didn’t like and he was about to kick the sh.. out of him. As for the shooting display with Dutch, he said it was all in good fun. I let it slide but told Slim he might want to avoid going into town for a spell. Slim just looked at me with a grin and said there would need to be way more deputies in that town to take him back to jail. I just shrugged and said it’s his decision and we all went to work for a change. We busted our tails and tried to make a good day of it in the pit but only got one ounce. I think we have another week or so of gravels to finish up and then it will be time to move our operation. I will be glad to get out of there as every time I turn my head I think I see my dead brother. It’s giving me the creeps. April 24 1937 Part One Last night after supper I had thought we’d all turn in early and get a good night’s sleep but Slim had other ideas. He said he was restless. Everyone had finally gone to bed but I stayed up with him for a while. He started drinking and talking about how the deputy had a lot of nerve coming into our camp and threatening to arrest him. He said he wanted to go into town and talk with the law and straighten them out. He said he was going with or without me and would hitch a ride. I told him to hold on and went over to Sarge and told him we were taking my truck into town. I said I was just dropping Slim off and would be back soon. We drove onto Main Street and I dropped Slim off in front of the Sheriff's station. He was his own man and on his own now. I was going to drive off but decided to wait and watch from about half a block down the street. I parked the truck and turned off the lights. I heard Slim hollering outside the building. He was hollering for the deputies to come out and face him man to man. I felt sick inside and figured this was not going to end well. I smelled death in the air. April 24 1937 Part Two Slim had a bottle of whiskey in his left hand and his right hand was near his holster. I didn’t see any cars at the Sheriff's office and it appeared that there was no one there. He was calling the law all kinds of names but there was nobody to hear it. He finally realized this and began to walk off down the street towards the middle of town. I could hear him saying he would shoot anyone that got in his way as he walked into town. I figured it was just a matter of time before something happened and I was right. I saw several men with rifles approach him from the side of a dark building. There were shots fired. I saw muzzle flashes from Slim and also the men with rifles. Then it was quiet. I heard some hollering and more men with guns arrived. They were deputies and some armed citizens. Slim was laying in the street. The armed men were standing over him. I headed back to camp.

GOING BACK TO THE NIGHT THE CREW WENT TO THE INFAMOUS TAVERN WITH SLIM SAUNDERS. WHAT A NIGHT. April 21 1937 Part One We had a good night's rest and went right to work early. We had our best day with five ounces. John and I couldn’t believe it. Somehow we had found us a sweet spot of glory gravel. Slim said he’d never seen gold like that but had heard tales in town that we’d mined thousands of ounces out here. I didn’t say much other than don’t believe all the bull .... being passed around about us. After supper Slim said the crew should go into town and celebrate. He kept talking and eventually had John on his side. I, for one, was tired of letting the town people control us so I asked Sarge and Ben if they were good with guarding camp while we went in. They said they were fine with it but didn’t exactly think it was a good idea. So John, Will, Hudson, Slim, and me rode into town and parked at the side lot of the tavern. When we walked in it was really packed. All the tables were taken and the bar was almost full except for a few spots at the far end. Then I saw someone whisper something to another guy and he turned to look in our direction. It was Dutch. He came walking over to me. It was clear he had been drinking and was in a bad mood. He was not happy we hadn’t included him as a permanent member of the crew. Then he spotted Slim. Dutch said he couldn’t believe we had hired on prison trash like Slim instead of him. Slim heard the remark. I was thinking this trip to town had been a real bad idea. April 22 1937 Part Two I immediately stepped in between Dutch and Slim. I told Dutch that we hadn’t contacted everyone yet and would have given him a job once we got up and running. I said we just couldn’t afford an extra man until we got back on the gold. I also told him Slim was working just to be with the crew and without any real pay. I told Dutch that I knew he needed to be properly paid so I was waiting until that time to put him either on security or the mining crew. This seemed to calm him down. We shook hands and I told him we’d talk more and I would buy him a drink. However, this didn’t cut butter with Slim and he said he had been insulted. Dutch could have done the easy thing and apologized but it wasn’t in his blood. Dutch was a big guy and younger than Slim by a good twenty five years or so. He also outweighed Slim by at least fifty pounds. Maybe more. Slim told him it was too late to apologize now and he wanted satisfaction. Dutch was half drunk and told Slim to go find a place to sit down or he'd sit him down on the barroom floor. Before I could say a word Slim had one of his Colts out with the barrel stuck up against Dutch’s throat. The open end was under his chin and Slim cocked the hammer. He told him to get outside and Dutch had no choice unless he wanted to get his head blown off. By now the barroom had gone quiet and all I could think was now we are becoming not only legends but outlaws to boot. The crew followed Slim and Dutch outside and I pleaded to Slim to put the gun away. Slim wasn’t having it. He asked Dutch how much money he had on him. Dutch said he had ten dollars. Slim said to give it to him and Dutch did so. Then Slim told Dutch to get on his knees. He reluctantly did. Then Slim set a full bottle of beer on his head and told him to keep it balanced. He said if it fell he would shoot off one of his ears. Then he walked back about forty paces, turned quickly as he drew his Colt from the right holster, and shot the full bottle off Dutch’s head. Beer went all over him. Slim told him to stay put and walked over to him with my bottle of beer and placed it on his head. He told Dutch not to move and he was going to do the same shot left handed. He stepped off forty paces, turned and fired as his Colt cleared the left side of his holster. The bottle smashed to pieces from the bullet and beer was once again draining down Dutch’s head. Now Slim told Dutch he had one chance to apologize or he would shoot off one of his ears. Dutch told him he was crazy. Slim didn’t say a word and cocked the pistol. Dutch gave in and said he was sorry. Slim told him to get up on his feet. When he did he fired a few rounds alternately from each Colt and the bullets were striking inches from Dutch’s boots. Dutch was dancing up a storm. Slim told him he was going back inside to do some drinking and said to git. He said he was choosy about who he drank with and didn’t like drinking with cowardly weasels like him. Dutch left with his tail between his legs and we went back inside the tavern. April 22 1937 Part Three When we got back inside the entire crowd was all stirred up. Some had come out to witness the activities while others were watching from the windows. Slim had put on quite a show. One of the guys came over and wanted to shake our hands and buy us drinks. We accepted the offer but Slim had an idea of his own. He hollered out inquiring who was the best whiskey drinker in town. One of the men said Jeff Johnson could outdrink any man in town. Slim told the guy to go get him as he wanted to challenge him to a drinking contest for $50. The guy went to get him. Then Slim came over to me and quietly asked if I’d stake him the $50 as he was broke. I said sure and eventually Jeff Johnson came walking in. He was over six feet in height and must have weighed in at 250 pounds. Now the crowd was surrounding the table we were at and Jeff and Slim set up the rules. The bartender would time the contest out at exactly one hour. Shots would be poured for Slim and Jeff as they downed each glass. Whoever had drunk the most shots after one hour won the prize. However, the winner had to keep the whiskey down and be able to walk out of the tavern on his own accord at the end of the hour. The barkeep brought over two bottles and poured out the first two shots. The contest was on. April 22 1937 Part Four The shots started going down and some of the crowd was cheering on their local favorite but some were hollering encouragement out to Slim. Slim started out downing a shot a minute. He told us to call out each minute. Jeff was just downing them as fast as he could put them down. After fifteen minutes Jeff had downed twenty shots and Slim was sitting comfortably at fifteen. Jeff was starting to look a little funny and his speech was beginning to slur just a bit. Slim kept up the shot per minute pace all the way to thirty minutes where he overtook Jeff. Jeff tried to keep up but at the forty minute mark he attempted to stand up and lost all of his efforts as everything he had consumed came up. He had made it to thirty five drinks. Seeing as Slim had now made the count of forty and had won the contest he stopped. It was hard to believe but he was able to get up and walk out the door on his own. Then he came back in and collected his money. The crowd gave him a big cheer. He bought drinks for the bar and the crew stayed inside while I followed Slim outside and into the parking lot where he heaved up what he had drunk. We went back inside and stayed until closing time. I didn’t see Slim drink anything more that night but the rest of the crew and I had ourselves a hell of a good time. Some of the guys in the crowd came over to me and said how bad they felt when they heard about what happened to my brother. They also thanked us for cleaning out the rif raf that had taken over the area. It seemed that the law was next to worthless there and wasn’t up to doing their jobs. What they had failed to do we did for them. All in all it was a good night except I felt bad for Dutch. I was hoping things would be ok between him and Slim.

LET"S TAKE A BRIEF TRIP BACK TO APRIL 18 1937 & THE LEGEND OF SLIM SAUNDERS. This man actually existed but I changed the name. He was quite a character according to what Jacob told us. The best of the best when it came to gunplay. April 18 1937 Part One We are continuing to get wild hooligans from town who want to come out here to the mine and either meet us or work with us. Last night I heard Ben and Sarge holler out at someone who was trudging up the side of the creek toward our camp. The crew came over and had a look at what the hollering was about. I nearly laughed but held it back. Sarge was not so kind and began to laugh and hoot. There in front of us stood an old guy dressed like a cowboy from back in the 1800’s. He wore a large cowboy hat that nearly covered his face and also some old jeans and fur leggings. He had on boots with spurs as well as two six shooters in holsters. He was smoking a home rolled cigarette and gave us all an evil stare. I walked over to him and asked what he was up to. He said his name was Slim Saunders and he was from a ranch just outside of town. I reckoned him to be about 60 in years or maybe a bit more. He told us he had done everything from ranching to mining to logging and even bounty hunting in his day. I started to like him. John asked him what we could do for him. He said he had heard quite a bit about us in town. Some of the groups that hung around in the tavern said we were the mining crew from hell and we took names and kicked ass. He said he was looking for work and wanted to join up with us. I asked him what kind of job he was looking for. He said he was a scratch shot with his 45’s and could work as security. He said he could also handle a rifle with the best of them. Before I could say anything he pointed to a limb on a pine tree about 100 feet away. He said to look toward the end of the limb and there was a small branch starting off to the right with a pine cone hanging on. I said that I saw it. He slapped leather with both hands and quick drew his Colts and fired off a round from each gun. The pine cone flew off the limb. Then he twirled the pistols and put them back in their holsters as slick as grease. Then he told Will to set out two empty tin cans about 100 feet away. Will set them up on a rock and came back over. Slim said to watch and he pulled his right hand quickly and shot as the gun cleared leather. One of the cans flew off the rock. Before the sound of the shot died he pulled his left hand with the Colt and did the same thing. The can flew off the rock just like the first one. He twirled them back into the holster as slick as could be. I asked him what kind of pay he wanted. He said just his grub and whiskey, a dollar, and a little taste of gold from time to time. I told him to hold on while I talked with my crew. Everyone liked Slim. We decided to give him a go. I went over and asked him when he wanted to start. He just looked at me and said “Well, I’m here aint I ?” and that was that. Then he asked if we had any whiskey. I handed him a new bottle and we all sat around the fire as darkness fell. Slim took a couple of pulls from the bottle and began to tell us his story. April 18 1937 Part Two Slim told us his father had worked in a wild west show back in the day. He did all kinds of tricks with guns and ropes. His father had begun teaching him these skills from even before he could remember. His father traveled all the time and when Slim was sixteen he and his mother and sister never saw him again. He just left on a show tour one day and never came home. He had no idea what happened to him. Slim kept practicing his father’s trade until he figured he was better than him or anyone else around. However, by this time the wild west shows were all dried up like the dust in the western wind. There was no market for his trade. Slim developed a real bad attitude and began to pull strong arm robberies when he was still a kid. He used his gun skills to intimidate people all the time. Not surprising, the law eventually caught up with him when he was nineteen years old and he spent two years in the Wyoming state prison. When he got out his mother and sister had moved on and abandoned him. He never saw either of them again. Prison hadn’t helped his attitude but it hardened him as a man. He had been in many fistfights and brawls while in lockup and had developed some good hand to hand fighting skills to go along with his gunplay. He was a truly dangerous individual and didn’t think twice about using his guns or fists at the drop of a hat. By now Slim had downed a third of his bottle. Then he told us a wild story. We all leaned in to listen closely. April 18 1937 Part Three Slim said that back when he was just out of prison he got a job working on a ranch. He didn’t have a whole lot of cowboy skills when they hired him but learned real fast and was soon one of the best cowboys on the ranch. He was in a poker game one night. It took place in the main bunkhouse and Slim was losing real bad. The cowboy who had all the money was the best bronc buster on the ranch. Or so he thought. Slim challenged him to a bronc busting contest. Slim put up one of his Colts against the money in the purse. The other cowboys got the meanest horse out of the barn. They called him Freight Train. He was bad to the bone. The first cowboy took a turn on him and got thrown after just a few seconds. Slim got on and rode out the horse and broke him. The cowboy who lost refused to give up the purse. One of the other guys was holding Slims Colt & gave it back to him. The losing cowboy challenged Slim to a duel. Slim said this guy thought he was pretty quick on the draw. They walked out fifty paces and stood looking at each other. Slim told him to make his move when he was ready. After a wait of about thirty seconds the cowboy slapped leather. Slim came up with both guns firing just as they cleared their holsters and the slower guy went down on his knees firing off a round into the dirt. Then he slowly rolled over on his side. He was dead. Both of Slims shots had pierced the chest in the area of the heart. Slim calmly walked over and took the money out of the cowboy’s vest pocket. It was covered in blood. The ranch owner had heard the ruckus and came out of his house with his rifle. It was way past midnight. When he saw one of his top hands laying dead on the ground he wasn’t happy. He pointed the rifle at Slim and told him he was going to shoot him dead. April 18 1937 Part Four Slim said when a man told him he was going to kill him he took him at his word. So he raised his right hand as if to give up but as he did so snapped the six shooter out of its holster with his left hand and fired three times. The rancher dropped to the ground lifeless. Just that quick he had taken two lives but felt he had no choice. The cowboys were real upset now because their boss and one of their friends were eating dirt. Slim said there were five of them left and some had sidearms. He told them not to make any moves and walked backwards towards the barn. He saddled a horse and rode off into the night leaving what few belongings he had. However, he did have a full poke now. Within the space of a few minutes he had become an outlaw. Then he told us the rest of the story. April 18 1937 Part Five Slim said he lasted until the law dogs caught up with him in Cody, Wyoming. He said there were two of them and he could have easily gunned them down but didn’t want to kill any more men. He got thirty years and got out when he was 51 years old. More than half his life had now been spent in prison and he had no one to call a friend. He was on his own in a strange world. He was forbidden to own or carry a gun and had no training except in gun play and cow punching and bronc busting. He thought about the rodeo circuit but everyone told him he was too old. He decided to give it a try anyway. He got on with the Cowboy Contest circuit in Cheyenne and found out he could still hold his own in the bronc riding division. He made himself a living for nearly ten years and was the oldest cowboy to qualify for a trophy and prize money. Then he eventually hooked up with a ranch in the area and now he was sitting at our campfire drinking whisky with us. We all pulled out some cups as he talked about his life and drank whiskey with him deep into the night. Around two in the morning we all turned in. When we got up none of us were feeling too good and took the day off nursing bad hangovers. There was no gold made that day.

BLM Sacramento ditto. No problems.

Good question. Jacob was convinced it was the exact same area of the strike of 1937. Now we are talking about a vast area 65 yrs later and an 85 yr old man who's memory had faded as anyone's would after all that time. The line of pay streak out in that area is about 3/4 of a mile in length and goes way back into the mountain for hundred or maybe thousands of feet. I think in this case we had hit yet another honey hole that Jacob was calling his old strike. We never argued the point because gold is gold.

Jacob's weapon of choice.

This stuff is sometimes confusing for new claim owners. Having done filings for many yrs I still dread it LOL. Mine is done, filed, & payed. So now I just got my tax bill for the claims LOL. It never ends. Remember, a clean, well maintained, & organized claim is a happy claim.

June 29 2002 Part Three Well, the crew never did get back to work for the rest of the day. We pulled the mats on the sluice and brought them to Jacobs' camper. We had only run 14 yards of gravel and we decided to clean the gold together Just to see if we were really in a super rich area. Jacob poured the gold onto the scale. There were 23.4 more ounces. This gave us 103.1 ounces today. Jacob said this now surpassed the best weigh of the 1936 strike. He looked at us and calmly stated “Boys, we are glory bound.” We all just sat there for a minute to take it all in. We figured once we got the trommel running again we would be rich beyond our wildest dreams. We had a big supper and the whisky and beer began to flow. Even Jacob had more than his usual. He rolled a smoke and began to talk about the glory hole of 1936. He said we could very well pass that season's gold total easy as they had no heavy equipment to work with. He said the ground where the 1936 strike happened may have been richer because they got big gold by hand but as far as total numbers were concerned we should be able to pass the old crew’s totals with ease because we had an excavator and trommel. That is if the gold held up. Now we all sat and wondered. Would the ground stand the test of time? TO BE CONTINUED ...............

Set 'em up Joe (Jacob). Set em up we did that night.

June 29 2002 Part Two We all were sitting around the table when the towel uncovered the jar. It had quite a bit of gold in it for sure. I asked Jacob what the gold weighed. He smiled and said 50 ounces on the nose. We all started whooping it up and jumping up and down. Then Jacob hollered and told us to hang on, he wasn’t finished yet. Wait? What was he saying? Before we could respond he reached under the table and brought out another jar that had been covered up like the first one. He said there was another 29.7 ounces in that one. It was the heaviest, most coarse gold I had ever seen here by far. A whopping 79.7 ounces of beautiful gold. Jacob laughed a long laugh and lit up a smoke he had previously rolled. Then he set a new bottle of Bushmills on the table and brought out four cups. He said we had hit a jackpot. This cleanup was just over 2 ounces to the yard and he figured it could get even better. He filled the cups with his Irish whisky and we started to drink with him. We were all shaking hands and suddenly Jacob began to cry. He told us we had definitely found the big strike the old crew from 1937 was starting to mine before the tragic night of July 3 1937. He said his friends had died for this gold. He was afraid the same could happen to us. TO BE CONTINUED ................

June 29 2002 Part One Surprisingly, we had a quiet night on the mine. I am hoping against hope that the intruders or gold fiends have been scared away for good. Time will tell. We got an early start to our day and were shoveling gravel as the sun came up. There is nothing more satisfying than the sun rising over our dig site and hearing the clanging of shovels against rock and gravel. These are some of the things I will miss when Fall comes and I am sitting at home thinking of this place. Along about noon Jacob came over to Vern and me. He told us to shut down for lunch and bring everyone to his trailer. Then he turned and walked away. I wasn’t sure what to think. He had no expression on his face when I saw him. We hurriedly shut everything down and the three of us headed over to Jacob’s trailer at camp. When we walked in there was a big towel covering something that was sitting on the kitchen table. Jacob was just sitting there with the Thompson at his side. I knew this was about the time the gold weigh was done and I asked him if there was much gold from the previous day's wash of 38 yards. Jacob looked us over and his look was somber. We didn’t know what to expect. He told us we had better sit down and hang on to our chairs. None of us spoke as we took our seats in his kitchen. I started getting real nervous and excited at the same time. I looked over at Vern and Jim and they looked like they couldn’t take a breath. Then he gave us a wink and removed the towel exposing a jar of gold. TO BE CONTINUED ................

June 28 2002 Part Four The rest of last night was quiet but the crew was restless and tired. We were being tested, Jacob told us. Trial by fire and only the toughest survive and take the gold home. We had all been through too much to ever turn back now. The hooligans would not win and if they pushed us they would not survive. That was the crew’s mind set as we set out to work the mine. I could imagine the gold hiding in the gravel as we threw shovel full after shovel full into the grizzly on the tom. Jacob came over before lunch and showed us 13.7 ounces in the jar. Vern and Jim took turns on patrol all day long and there was no sign of anyone but our crew on the claim. Tired as we all were we managed to wash 38 yards of pay gravel. We finished up the cleanout of the tom and placed the concentrates in the capable hands of Jacob. I wouldn’t give a plug nickel for the lives of anyone attempting to steal gold from that man. Supper was ready just as the sun set and we watched the stars roll out against the darkening sky. The sky out here was as pure as pure can get. We could see every star in the universe and sometimes my thoughts would turn towards home and my wife patiently waiting for me to get back from this wild adventure. She didn’t know half of what was going on out on the mine. I wanted to come home in the fall with jars full of gold to show her and prove to everyone that someone like me and our crew could still get rich by gold mining. Nothing was going to stop us. TO BE CONTINUED .................

Very sorry to hear of this. Prayers go out for him.

The trespassers usually have the advantage. They can sneak in & out without being detected at times. And yes, who in their right mind would want to be in a partnership with people like that?

June 28 2002 Part Three These guys were not backing off. They were insisting on becoming mining partners and threatening us with vandalism if we refused. I told them to get off our mine. I said we are all heavily armed and as they could hear we had a machine gun. If they pushed us too far they would lose the fight. Eventually it got quiet and after waiting about half an hour with no reply from them we realized they had vanished into the night. I carefully went out to the rock outcropping they had been hiding behind and checked around. There was no sign of them. I went back into camp and we had a quick meeting. Jim said that maybe Jacob’s Thompson had scared them away for good. Jacob just shook his head and said not likely. He called them crazed gold thieves. He said they had the fever so bad there was no reasoning with them. He warned that people like that will do anything for gold and we were far from finished with them. Now we have a big problem out here with no easy solution. I kept wondering what I had gotten myself into. I do not like this situation one bit. I do know that our crew will stick together and fight if pushed. TO BE CONTINUED .................