Howdy, Here's a couple more from 49er Howard C.GARDINER at the Northern Mines: THE 1851/52 INDIAN WAR AT SECRET RAVINE "Indians were...a great annoyance, as they would steal at every opportunity. Though none lived in my vacinity, they passed fequently, and when occasion offered, raided my cabin and stole my victuals. Coming home one evening after two days' absence, I dismounted at the cabin door, unsaddled my mule, and went in for supper, hungry as a bear. Conceive my disgust when I found the larder empty. Just before leaving home, I had baked bread and boiled a piece of corned beef, which with a pan of potatoes were deposited on the hanging shelf at my departure. Of course I was provoked, as I was hungry and tired. Without lighting a candle, I sat down to consider, when suddenly the door opened and a SQUAW... came in for forage. "The poker, a small, green stick which I held in my hand, was temporarily diverted from its legitimate use and applied to that squaw's shoulders with an utter disregard of the conventionalities in favor of the sex feminine. The intruder was inside the door when the whack of the stick notified her of my presence. The door opened inwards, and for a while her efforts to unclose it were unavailing. During the interval the interior of the cabin did not present the slightest resemblance to a Sunday school. Finally, however, she managed to get out, and fled shrieking into the wilderness. Trusting that the castigation would cure the squaw of her thievish propensities, I lighted a fire, prepared supper, and went to bed. "After retiring, it occurred to me that the squaw might cherish revengeful feelings and attempt to get even for the flagellation, as there were probably bucks in the near vacinity who might come in the night and 'wipe me out' while sleeping. This thought made me nervous, so I barricaded the door with a nail keg, soap box, and other loose articles, which if thrown down would awaken me, placed my pistol under the pillow and went to sleep. Nothing happened, however, and I rested undisturbed till morning." WHISKEY BAR'S DREAM GOLD "The season previous[Spring/Summer 1851?] I had cached a quantity of gold dust at my old quarters on Whiskey Bar, and not knowing what might happen decided to recover it and take it with me. So I saddled my mule and rode over to the river. A young ENGLISHMAN had appropriated my tent frame and fireplace and was inside when I came in. Entering without ceremony, I introduced myself and asked him if he believed in DREAMS. Rather surprised at the abruptness of my question, he was at a loss for an answer. Explaining, I said that as a general thing I was skeptical regarding fulfilment of dreams, but for months past had been under the influence of a sort of phantasmagoria which had so impressed my mind that I was unable to shake it off, and had come to satisfy myself whether the impression was based on truth or was a mere illusion. "Asking the loan of a SHOVEL, I proceeded to clear away the ashes in the fireplace, and began digging, while the young man looked on in astonishment and evidently considered me insane. I kept on digging, however, and soon struck the buried treasure. The DUST was in a tin can wrapped in a newspaper. When the can was uncovered and its contents exposed, the look on the young BRITON'S face was wonderful to behold, and he had no idea who I was, or that I had previously owned the fireplace. There was about $1,000 in the can, and when, having enjoyed his amazement at my - to him - strange performance, I told him that I had occupied the place the year before and buried the gold for safety, he began to understand that my proceeding was not induced by a mere dream, as I had led him to believe." QUERY: Wonder back then who - legully:-) - owned the dust?:-) No show-stoppers, but still.......:-) Bob Norris in Dallas BNorris166aol.com>