Outing . , and I can recallno more ideal spot, comparatively easyof access, than this, for a campers andanglers holiday. Above my nights bivouac I passed anabandoned placer miners cabin, not farbeyond forded the river, and presentlycame upon the little log cabin of JackDavis, an old placer miner who haslived here alone, washing gravel, formore than twenty years. For monthsat a time no human being passes his way,and he was very glad to see me. Helives on fish and game mainly, supple-mented, when he has them—and that isnot always by any means—by bacon andflour, which he packs fifty miles on hisb
Outing . , and I can recallno more ideal spot, comparatively easyof access, than this, for a campers andanglers holiday. Above my nights bivouac I passed anabandoned placer miners cabin, not farbeyond forded the river, and presentlycame upon the little log cabin of JackDavis, an old placer miner who haslived here alone, washing gravel, formore than twenty years. For monthsat a time no human being passes his way,and he was very glad to see me. Helives on fish and game mainly, supple-mented, when he has them—and that isnot always by any means—by bacon andflour, which he packs fifty miles on hisback. His claim has never yielded himmore than a scant living, but with theminers never-failing optimism he ex-pects some day to strike it rich. All the gravel along the Snake, evenhigh up on the mountain sides, thelength of the canyon, is filled with flakegold. One can find color anywhere,but the flakes are too light to separatefrom the gravel by any known and again Jack finds a small nug-. < X w X H X u < w * o H Q & r- O H ?r, Q -) o H W CO «i o CO 1-1 W U J S* <! N a a H CO Q X < P D O Q (Hi 0 O fc Q W w CO O fc 322 THE OUTING MAGAZINE get, however, sufficient to keep his cour-age and hope alive. And so he willcontinue digging and working until lifegoes out. A chance passer-by will someday find his poor old body in the canyon,where he and his hopes have died to-gether. He is now seventy-seven yearsof age. Old Jack was frying bacon when Idismounted and stopped for a quarterhours chat with him. He urged me tojoin him at dinner. It was twelveoclock, he said, by the sun, and I better stop. My watch verified hisguess, but I excused myself on the pleaof short days and the necessity of tak-ing advantage of all the daylight totravel. I was well aware that he hadlittle enough for himself to eat, withoutentertaining strangers, and it wouldhave insul
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
