Better days; or, A Millionaire of To-morrow — John Shaqi
Better days; or, A Millionaire of To-morrowFitch, Thomas
Philosophy
Better days; or, A Millionaire of To-morrow
Fitch, Thomas
Utopias -- Fiction; West (U.S.) -- Fiction
The tremendous force of the vast body of water precipitated into the
gorge had excavated and swept through its opening the fallen and
decomposed rock and sand and bowlders which had been accumulating for
centuries. The channel rent by the waters as they emerged was quite
twenty feet in depth and sixty feet in width, and Morning found that the
floor of the box cañon had been torn away to a similar depth.
The waterspout had accomplished in one minute a work that would have
required the industrious labor of one thousand men for a month. The
gorge was swept clean to the bed rock, which showed blue limestone, and
in the center of this limestone bed there now stood erect, to a height
of twelve feet, a ledge of white and rose-colored quartz of regular and
unbroken formation, forty feet in width, running from near the entrance
of the rift to the end of it, where it disappeared under the basalt
wall.
The experienced eye of Morning taught him at a glance that this was a
true fissure vein of quartz, and a brief examination of some pieces
which he knocked off with his pole-pick convinced him that it was rich
in gold. But for the waterspout which had swept away the sand, gravel,
and loose rocks which ages of disintegration of the face of the wall had
deposited over this lode, its existence must ever have remained
undiscovered for there were no exterior evidences of the existence of
quartz, to tempt a prospector to sink a shaft.
The primal instinct of the miner is to locate his “find,” and Morning
proceeded forthwith to acquire title to “the unoccupied mineral lands of
the United States” so marvelously brought to light. His notebook
furnished paper for location notices, and an hour’s work enabled him to
build location monuments of loose stone, in which his notices were
deposited.
It was now more than two hours since the waterspout had expended its
force. Morning conjectured that Steel and his miners, after the flood
had passed them, would probably set out in search of him, and he did not
wish his location to be discovered until he should have perfected it by
recording at Tucson, and possibly not then. But he knew that it would
require at least three hours for the men at the copper-camp to reach
him, and, though the light in the cañon was beginning to grow dim, he
determined not to leave there without further examination of the ledge.
Accordingly, he walked around it and climbed over it. From its summit
and its sides at twenty different places he broke off specimens, which
he deposited in his pockets until they were full to bursting. It was
beginning to grow dark when he emerged from the rift and started along
the base of the basalt. He had not proceeded a hundred yards from the
mouth of the rift, when he beheld three figures a quarter of a mile
distant, rapidly picking their way along the channel which had been worn
by the torrent in its descent of the mountain.
Five minutes more in the gorge and his secret would have been
discovered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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