--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Barnes, Claude T. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 22 number: 5 published: 1919-03 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Barnes, Claude T., \"A Prospector's Adventure,\" *Improvement Era* 22, no. 5 (March 1919): 444–447." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2205unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2205unse start_page: 444 end_page: 447 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1919-03) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2205unse publication_year: 1919 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1919, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # A Prospector's Adventure A Prospector's Adventure By Claude T. Barnes In a picturesque and rugged part of the Wasatch mountains there once lived a prospector by the name of Parker, a kindly- mannered man of about sixty years of age, healthy, resourceful and wiry. His solitary log cabin was nestled beside a spring in the midst of a grove of majestic balsams; and summer and win- ter he had no companions save a few friendly blue jays, mag- pies and small mammals. Parker had found several fortunes for other men; for it was his habit, when he made a discovery of exceptional merit, to sell his interest at once and then set out again into the wilds. He loved the clear air of the mountains and the inspiring grandeur of snow-capped peaks; for though encouraged always by the thought of gold he was at heart sincerely reverent, finding in the mystical beauty and power of nature the nearest communion with the Infinite Power. At the time of which we speak Parker searched each day through the labyrinthine tunnels, stopes and levels of a once famous though now deserted mine, his belief being that by some chance he would uncover a rich, undetected vein of ore. The mine or mine entrance was at the foot of a wind-swept escarp- ment, over a mile by devious trails from the snug habitation of the old miner. It was a cold, bright morning in February when Parker closed the cabin door behind him and trudged through the crisp, deep snow up the canyon slopes towards the tunnel. A snowy owl skimmed silently from a pine tree whence he had frightened it; hundreds of juncos flushed before him and alight- ed further down; and a lonely coyote jarbled its weird howl from a distant ridge. Once he stopped beside a handsome young balsam and ate some of the gummy blisters, the acrid substance being to his mind a tonic and regulator of rare value. The wind had swept all of the snow from the entrance to the tunnel, proving that grim winter had come to its most ruthless period of destruction. Lighting his head-lantern and picking up dynamite and tools, he walked into the tunnel. A slight noise before him for a second attracted his atten- tion, but attributing it to either a pebble falling from the tunnel- wall or the scurry of a wood-rat, he gave the matter little thought and walked further into the gloom. The mine was a maze of crosscuts like the catacombs on the Via Appia; indeed, one might walk for an hour through the complicated stopes, tunnels A PROSPECTOR'S ADVENTURE 445 and side-tunnels without traversing them all. Unprotected shafts, rotted ladders and loosely hanging boulders, moreover, made this maze dangerous to all except the most expert miner. As Parker neared the first side-tunnel he again heard a slight rushing sound; and though courageous far beyond the average, he sensed a slight tremor at the thought that perhaps some new danger lurked ahead. Yet had he not a hundred times searched through the dismal old mine without greater mis- fortune than occasionally becoming lost? He hesitated but a moment and then continued to grope his way through the vari- ous passages. Finally he stopped to examine a side wall at a point that appeared to cover a vein; he picked at it for a time with his pick; and then taking up his hammer and drill proceeded to make a hole for the powder. It was not long before the shot was properly tamped and the cap placed; so, lighting the fuse he stepped briskly back into another passage. The fuse sput- tered and then a terrific exposion rent the wall, the sound re- verberating and grumbling through the intricate tunnels and shafts as an echo in the Hyrcynian wood. This to Parker was usual, commonplace; but as the sounds subsided a piercing scream, like that of a wild woman, issued from a neighboring tunnel and held him frozen with horror. Never in all his experience as a miner had he ever heard anything so uncanny and dreadful. His hair seemed creeping from his scalp; cold drops of sweat beaded down his forehead and in utter consternation he leaned weakly against the side of the tunnel. Nothing is so weird and alarming as the indiscern- ible peril. This intrepid man of the woods, accustomed to meet- ing bears and passing them with mutual deference and respect, was at a complete loss to cope with the supernatural. For a time he awaited, agape, as if expecting another scream; for no one would have mistaken the sound for the cry — of a human in distress it was more powerful, more doleful. It had about it an inexplicable mingling of distress and loneli- ness, power and yet fear. As there was no repetition, Parker gradually summoned up his courage and with pick in hand resolutely but slowly ap- proached the tunnel from which the scream had come. His head-light created a thousand furtive timber shadows, which led to disquieting imaginations, but when at last he gazed into the portentious tunnel, nothing but sombre, dripping stone met his eyes. Too unstrung to think of giving up the mystery, which un- less solved would forever haunt his work, he gradually searched other passages to no avail. At last he thought that he would shout in the hope of human reply; but his voice stuck in his 446 IMPROVEMENT ERA throat as if unwilling to disclose his presence to the hobgoblin near. Yet some sound must have escaped him, for instantly the tunnels were again pierced by another appalling screech. Nevertheless, instead of dismaying Parker, as might be ex- pected, it had a slightly different intonation at the end that ac- tually seemed to inspire him with renewed boldness. He ad- vanced more quickly now, but with his body drawn into a more alert attitude of defense, as if convinced that the encounter, when it took place, would at least be with flesh and blood. The scream was again repeated; and then, as Parker quickly sneaked upon the sound, two glowing balls like discs of phos- phorus suddenly appeared beside a distant timber. Here at last was the Gorgon itself, though presumably with- out loathsome snakes for hair. For a full minute he steadily met the animal's gaze, awaiting some sign of belligerency. Noth- ing happened save the uninterrupted glowing of the two appre- hensive eyes. It suddenly dawned upon Parker, however, that the animal stood in the very spot over which he must go to make his exit from that group of tunnels in which he had been drilling. This thought gave him some concern; but realizing that a sign of timidity before a wild animal is a quickly appreciated invita- tion to attack, he groped about for a stone and then threw it boldly and fiercely at the glowing eyes. Again the scream shot along the tunnel walls; but the eyes disappeared, whither Parker could not discern. He approached and found the passage clear. Now a personal encounter with a wild animal in a dark mine was not advisable for a man armed only with a miner's pick; and, moreover, Parker now knew full well that he himself had unwittingly driven the skulking animal into the mine against its will and that it was lost. With the idea of passing out of the mine and procuring a gun before the disconcerted animal should find the exit, he quickly walked along tunnels well known to him and in ten or fifteen minutes emerged from the mine. He had not gone over four or five rods from the mouth of the tunnel when some telepathic influence caused him to turn his head back. To his surprise a fine, big mountain lion was in the act of leaving the tunnel. He shouted as if to stop it, but it bounded lithely and quickly up the hill and away. The dis- tracted animal, from sheer desperation, had actually followed closely at his heels in the hope of escaping from the even more terrifying mine. It is strange how animals, when thus at the ends of their wits, will turn to man, their deadliest foe, for refuge; and it is akin to the act of the doe rushing to the hunter to escape his relentless hounds.