Mariposa Gazette January 30, 1925 First Mariposa Treasurer Met Tragic Death Sixty Thousand Dollar Treasure buried in 1851 still lies hidden in the land of Agua Fria. Still safely tucked away beneath the sacred sod of "Silent" Agua Fria, somewhere, lies the pot of gold that has escaped the eye of the most alert, the most cunning and the most persistent of treasure seekers for three quarters of a century. Here the seer, the fortune teller and even the crystal gazer has met defeat. But sometime even the sacred sod of this mystic city will offer up its treasure when good "Dame Fortune" guides the lucky one to the end of his rainbow. Our story dates away back to the Pioneers when California was yet very young and when Mariposa and Agua Fria were the Mecca for the gold seeker. At this time Agua Fria was the county seat of Mariposa County, then a vast empire in itself, extending from the Tuolumne County line on the north to the Los Angeles county line on the south and from the summit of the Coast Range to the State of Nevada, and comprising almost one seventh part of the entire state. At this time J. F. A. Marr was entrusted with the safe keeping of the county funds, he having been elected to the position of County Treasurer the previous year, when the state gained its statehood. In those days there was neither bank or vault in which to keep the treasure and for sake keeping, men usually looked to mother earth for protection of their valuables from the thieving gangs of outlaws and robbers who infested the county. December 12th 1851, dawned bright and clear in the Mariposa hills and County Treasurer Marr arose bright and early for a few days trip among the mines, collecting the annual foreign tax, which by law was an important part of his official duty. He had already collected and had in his possession $15,000 in fifty dollar gold slugs, which were safely hidden before he began his fateful journey. Mounting his trusty saddle-horse he rode happily away on this beautiful morning over the hills and across streams, halting here and there to collect from the tardy ones who had failed to pay their per capita tax previously. As the day advanced Marr saw that the sky was becoming overcast with clouds and that a storm was brewing, so he hastened on a little faster toward the Lewis store, now the Harless home on the main road between Mariposa and Le Grand, where he had planned to spend the night. The storm finally broke in all of its fury and the rain poured down in torrents, filling the streams until the banks overflowed. Only one more small stream ahead and the hungry, tired rain drenched man would be safely sheltered from the storm. He reach Deadman's Creek, hardly more than a stone's throw from his destination; the stream was at its height, a madly roaring torrent, the rider paused a moment, then urged his faithful mount into the water. The swift current hurled the animal from his feet and man and horse were carried down the stream to a watery grave. The following day, men from the store, who saw the accident, went forth to search for the unfortunate and faithful servant of his people. His body was recovered and tenderly cared for; later being removed to the home at Agua Fria, which this man loved so well, and then to the little cemetery which time has almost cast into oblivion. Those three hundred shiny, golden slugs, after more than three score years and ten of winter's rains and summer's suns beating down upon them, must be stained and rusty now. Lucky will he who finds the hiding place of these golden slugs for, to-day, there is many a man who would cross the continent and willingly pay four-fold their metallic value. Faithful to his trust and duty, a fitting memorial should be dedicated to this man who carried his official secret even unto death. -- Thomas and Paulette Hilk 1725 Wildwood Ct. Merced, CA. 95340 E-mail address: paulette@elite.net