** Lost Gold At The Dead Man's Mine ** A Miners Journal **

[Phillips_R]

I'm glad you did it well cause I remember what he did to the guy that set up the sluice at too steep of an angle.   : )

[GhostMiner]

14 hours ago, Phillips_R said:

I'm glad you did it well cause I remember what he did to the guy that set up the sluice at too steep of an angle.   : )

Yes, you don't mouth off to an outlaw LOL.

[GhostMiner]

 July 13   2002     Part One     Set ‘Em Up Joe

 

   Jacob and I worked into the afternoon cleaning the heavy concentrates from yesterday’s run and ended up with 51.4 ounces. This figured out to about 7 yards of gravel to the ounce which is quite rich. We had supper and Jacob suggested heading over to the tavern in town. Yes, the infamous tavern from the old days where so many wild things took place. It was still there and had changed owners five or six times according to what I heard. I guess Jacob was curious to see what it was like there now.

   So after supper we got all cleaned up and headed into town in my truck. I pulled into the parking lot and found a good spot. It was Saturday night and there were a bunch of cars parked in the lot as well as on the street in front. Jacob never said a word as we got out of the truck.

   I could hear the jukebox playing as we swung the front door open. We had left our pistols locked in the truck and Jacobs' beloved Thompson was stashed behind the seat with a blanket over it. Jacob still had his buck knife on him.

   I took a look around as we walked in. The place was busy. There were people eating at small tables to the left and the bar was to our right. The middle area was fairly open. I couldn’t help but notice there were no families or kids in there, just mostly adult men and a few women. To me it looked like a rough redneck bar. 

   Jacob pointed to some empty bar stools and we took our seats along with a bunch of other guys. I was hoping we hadn’t made a bad decision coming in here but it was good to get a break from camp. The bartender came over and asked us what we wanted to drink. Jacob asked him what his name was. He said it was Joe. We ordered whisky with beer chasers. Jacob said “Set ‘em up Joe” and the rounds of drinks arrived. We threw back a shot and chased it with some beer. We were outlaw miners in an old outlaw bar tonight.

   TO BE CONTINUED ................

[GhostMiner]

Set 'Em Up Joe.

 

[Tahoegold]

I understand that using the term Outlaw sounds pretty cool. However, sometimes I think that term has been romanticised by the media as it actually refered to bad guys commiting crimes. You both were, in your localized way, helping keep the peace.

    A less romantic term, however, and a more correct term for you and Jacob would be Vigilante. The american West was made safe by these American Heros.

 

A vigilante (borrowed from Spanish "vigilante", which means "sentinel" or "watcher", from Latin vigilāns) is a person who practices or partakes in vigilantism, or undertakes public safety and retributive justice without commission.

[GhostMiner]

Taking a look back to the day of one of the bar fights of 1936. Cheers.

   AUGUST 13   1936

   After breakfast Whiskey Jack weighed our gold from yesterday’s gravel. There was 27 ounces. Once again Jack did his gold dance and we all had a good laugh. Jack brought out a bottle and we all took a drink. I sent Jacob and Whiskey Jack into town with the truck for supplies and told them to bring back a lode of beer for the crew as well. Me, Will, and Ben walked up to the mine and Ben took his lookout post as usual while Will and me went into the drift to work. The heat seemed here to stay and was always over 100 degrees by early afternoon. 

   I worked the pit in the drift and Will pulled out buckets and carried them to the truck. It was slow going and we broke work for lunch around noon. Jacob and Whiskey Jack hadn’t returned from town and I was concerned. Sarge and me took his truck into town to see if we could find them. It wasn’t long before we found out the cause of the delay. My truck was loaded up with supplies and parked in front of the hooligan bar. Sarge pulled his truck in behind mine and we went in to see what was what. Jacob and Jack were in a card game in the corner with three other guys. All of them had been drinking including Jacob and Jack. When they saw us coming over they looked surprised and said they had won a whole bunch of money and were getting ready to leave. When they started gathering up the money that’s when the trouble started.

   One of the three rif raf they had cleaned out said Jacob and Jack weren’t leaving until they had a chance to win their money back. I told him they were supposed to be at work and they were leaving now. He said they weren’t going anywhere and the three of them stood up from the table. Whiskey Jack told them to sit down if they knew what was good for them. The loudmouth of the three hauled off and cracked Jack in the face with a punch out of nowhere and Jack stumbled backwards over his chair and onto the floor. That was it. I came over the table and latched onto the guy with one hand and caught him with a punch to his ear. He started cursing and his two pals came at me. Sarge grabbed one of them and got him in a head lock and rammed him into the wall. When the other one turned Sarge drilled him square on the jaw with a right hand. Then I got taken to the ground from behind. It seemed they had  friends in there. I saw Whiskey Jack pull the guy away and crack him over the head with a beer bottle. There was blood spurting everywhere. He went down and I got back on my feet.

   The guy that Sarge bounced off the wall was coming for him and I hollered to look out. The guy caught Sarge with a solid punch but he shook it off and came back around with his own and it sent the guy backwards. I saw Sarge do some kind of kick to the guy's knee and he went down hard. Then Sarge stomped him in the face. Two were down and out and the other two backed off. Sarge hollered  what’s the matter? Don’t you want anymore? One of them said to Sarge that he didn’t leave a man much. I will never forget what Sarge answered. He told him that he didn’t bring much. I didn’t have a chance to see it but Jacob had been busy with a fifth guy who had tried to get into the fight. Jacob had put him on the deck and I saw the guy crawling towards the door. I kicked him in the side and he rolled over on the floor.

   I hollered to everyone in there that they had started the trouble, not us. I told them if they come outside they’d be sorry. And then we left. Anyway, that’s the way I remember it. When we got back to camp John was madder than hell that he wasn’t there. I was madder than hell that Jacob had gone into that rif raf bar. Whiskey Jack was all wound up and pulled out a bottle of whiskey saying everyone needed to blow off some steam once and awhile. He said he hadn’t been in a brawl like that since the old days. It seemed to make him happier than all get out and I couldn’t stay mad and just started to laugh about it. By now it was late afternoon and it was hotter than hell to boot. Jacob, Will, and me went back up to the drift and worked for a few hours and knocked off early with 32 buckets for the day. I told them we’d make up for it tomorrow,

   When we got back to camp Whiskey Jack was drunk as all get up and still talking about the fight in town. We ate supper and all sat around camp drinking and talking about it. Jack finally passed out and we put him in his tent. The crew retired for the night but I sat outside with a bottle of Bushmills. 

[Mike Furness]

Oh for the good ole days! 🤣😉

[GhostMiner]

   July 13   2002     Part Two

 

   We were sitting there enjoying the evening when I noticed some old pictures hanging on a wall behind the bar. They were kind of faded and dirty. I asked Joe the bartender about them. He said some of the pictures dated way back to before WW2. They were pictures of some of the people from back in the day that had frequented the tavern. He said it used to be a pretty rough place at one time. I didn’t say anything but in my mind I was thinking it still looked pretty rough.

   Jacob spied one of the pictures and said he thought he recognized the person. The bartender pulled the picture off the wall and set it infront of Jacob. Joe said it was Zach Jeffers, one of the old timers who frequented the tavern way back before the great war. He said he had mysteriously disappeared one day and was never heard from again. The missing persons case had never been solved. Jacob looked surprised but told Joe he was mistaken and he didn’t know the guy after all. Joe took the picture away, placed it back on the wall with the others, and went on down the bar to serve a new customer.

   Jacob leaned over towards me and said quietly that Jeffers was one of the thugs involved in the gang that was trying to run his brother and crew off the claims back in 1936. He said that Jed had dumped him off to an outlaw mining crew in the Nevada desert along with others in the gang. They were then used as mining slaves in the Nevada desert. Jacob chuckled and said no wonder he had never been heard from again. Lord only knows what happened to him after Jed turned him over to the Nevada miners. He said they were friends of his and were a real mean bunch. I guess that’s the way it goes when you mess with the wrong people. We ordered another round.

   TO BE CONTINUED ...............

 

[GhostMiner]

   July 14   2002

 

   After our second round of drinks last night we headed back to camp. All the way back Jacob was talking about the old tavern and what a rowdy place it was back in his day. He was telling me tales about when the logging crews came in there was always trouble with them and the miners. And then add all the rif raf and hooligans to the mix. It made the place a witches brew of trouble. I told him that those days were most likely over and the law was better now. He just scoffed at that statement.

   So this morning after a good breakfast we got back to digging gravels. I ran the excavator and did my best to follow the pay streak. Every so often Jacob would climb down off the skid steer and check the gravels to see what I was digging. I guess I was doing ok because he never said a word to me but just nodded his head. We ended the day with an even 200 yards of processed material and headed back to camp for supper. It was a good day.  I am hoping that the rest of our mining season stays just like today.

   TO BE CONTINUED ...................

[GhostMiner]

  July 15   2002

 

   Last night after supper I asked Jacob how much gold still might be buried on the claims. He kind of shook his head and said it was real hard to tell. He figured much of the gold was buried deep in the gravels, especially up to the north of where we were digging. He said according to Whisky Jack who had worked on the hydraulic crews back in the day they had used the big monitors to blast material to find good gold and never found much of anything worthwhile. It seems they had got down 60 feet or more without enough gold to make the labor worthwhile. Jacob was convinced there was big gold up to the north but he said bedrock was well over 100 feet deep and too much for our excavator to deal with. He said we’d go broke chasing what the old boys had left up there. The only way would be to go into their old cuts and dig deeper than they got and pray.

   He said we were in a good pay streak and if it held up we would be rich by the end of the season. I was anxious to get my poke filled and get home to my wife. Maybe sometime in October I was hoping. Maybe sooner. I was learning that you can’t count on pay streaks holding up for long. Maybe we would get lucky.

   Today we worked without any issues and processed 210 yards. That gave us a two day run of 410 yards. We’ll do the gold cleanup tomorrow. Tonight we had a good supper and a couple of drinks by the fire. Gold was on our minds when we turned in for the night.

   TO BE CONTINUED .................