Newspaper Clippings, 1884 - "From Eastern Nevada"

TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Sunday. . . . . . . . . . January 6, 1884

FROM EASTERN NEVADA.

A Peculiar Sketch of a Very Peculiar Old Pioneer and Inveterate Prospector—"Oh, Carry Me Back to Old Virginny"—The Silver Bricks of Austin—Spontaneous Generation—No Narrow=Gauge Deadheads—Holiday Amenities, Etc.

[Correspondence of the Enterprise.]

AUSTIN, Nev., January 4, 1884.

There was a man. It was not the first time there had been a man, but this man was more manish than other men of his day and generation. His name was Horton, and he hailed from Baltimore. I first knew him as a California gold miner, working on Woods' creek, a tributary of the Tuolumne, in the Winter of '49. He was a dark complexion, full bearded six-footer, strong as a young giant, with a peculiar massiveness of countenance, and general style of character naturally attracting the attention of most any one who saw him. He was a hard worker and always had plenty of money, spent it freely, but never seemed contented to work long in any one place. In fact he seemed to be naturally a prospector, and found more new and rich spots to work in than anybody. Two years afterward I met him at Hart's Bar on the Calaveras, still delving away with pick, shovel and cradle, and still working spending plenty of money. He left shortly afterward, and I did not see him again till August 27, 1855. It was at Volcano, Amador county. There had been a Democratic mass meeting that evening, and Governor John Bigler, Colonel J. C, Zabriskie and James Farley had addressed the citizens from a stand on the main street. Suddenly there was a row in a saloon, and I saw a light-built fellow trying to defend himself against two burly rascals who were attacking him most viciously. No weapons were used, but the young man struck out with his fists very lively. They had him backed up against the wall and were getting the best of him. Just then a stranger, riding on a mule, paused for a moment in front of the door, and the next instant he leaped to the ground, brushed past me, and directly formed a fourth party in the fight. He knocked the two big men right and left, had them both on the floor at a time, then stood over them, knocking them down every time they attempted to rise. The young fellow took the opportunity to slip out, and the stranger coolly marched up street, leading his mule to a stable. His floored antagonists seemed really thankful for a chance to arise, and philosophically wiped their bloody noses without evidently caring to follow up such a disagreeably vigorous acquaintance. But I followed him, though, for I had recognized Horton. He explained thus:

"You see, I've been down on James' Bar, below Mokelumne Hill, the last three months, and done first rate; but I got tired and concluded to try the Fiddletown diggings. I was a little late getting to this place and shall go on early in the morning; but, really, now, I did happen along in good time to interfere in a one-sided muss. Never was here before, but hope those two chaps down there won't think harder of me on that account."

He camped with me that night; we ate beans together, talked over old times, and before sunrise he was on his mule and his way to Fiddletown. I never saw or heard of him afterward until last Sunday, yet I recognized him at once by his strong, massive features and self-possessed manner. His dark hair had become considerably tray-mixed, and he did not walk up street with his old, independent swing. He was simply Horton, thirty years later. But he was the same hearty, whole-souled man as of yore.

"I've had lots of experience since then," said he, "and handled just as much money as I desired. Have been all up and down the coast, yet never have lacked good food and good clothes and a good place to sleep. Worked the last ten years around Nevada City and Grass Valley, and only been in this State six months. Got in last evening across the country from the Candelaria and Hawthorne section. Good mines over there, but I don't like their kind. Now I'm going on to Osceola to prospect those gold diggin's, and the chances are that next thing I shall get out of this cussed sagebrush range, and back again over in God's country. Don't you know, sometimes I think I'm getting old enough to quit prospecting, and that I'll settle down on a ranch and get me a wife. Must have somebody to leave my gold dust to when I go under the daisies. Adios, old pard; you're getting a little gray, too. Call over and see me in the sweet by and by, on my ranch, you know."

On his ranch! He'll never settle down on a ranch. Bless his grizzled beard and big heart, he is too inveterate an old prospector for that. He always seemed to me to be cut out for a very different style of man; a leader among men, socially, intellectually or politically, yet somehow he never took the lead, except as a pioneer and a prospector. Verily, "there's a divinity that shapes our ends," and the future history of this old timer will be interesting to study, for he can but follow out his manifest destiny, finish digging his grave, and tramp more and more wearily onward after the numerous old pioneers gone before him over the well-worn trail, out into the mythical beyond.

OLD COMSTOCKERS.

Writing about the aforesaid old California prospector, calls to mind the numerous old residents of Virginia and Gold Hill to be found everywhere throughout Eastern Nevada. When adversity descended, like a cold fog, upon the Comstock they had to seek homes and employment elsewhere, but your old-time Comstockers never forget what they remember, and longingly hope for a renewal of bonanza days, willing and ready to rush back to the hoped-for revival at short notice. And as they thus hopefully dream of better times, they gently hum: "Oh, carry me back to old Virginny." But most of them are too poor to get back there any other way.

MANHATTAN BRICKS.

The old Manhattan mill has just started on a fresh run, after a couple of weeks' rest for repairs and a thorough clean-up. A gratifying peculiarity with this institution, is that its bullion yield is chronically continuous, the regular shipments of bricks being made every other day, or oftener, whether the mill runs or not. In fact, some of the heaviest shipments have been made since the mill shut down. A thorough clean-up of this mill, literally means something, and something elaborately valuable. Crushing the ore by the Stedefeldt dry process involves the gradual accumulation of light, rich chloride dust everywhere, as well as in the regular dust chambers and other traps. The whole concern has to be scraped and swept from one end to the other, and the pans are thus kept working long after the batteries have ceased their noisy racket. Just what bricks have [been] turned out in the way of bullion shipments during these two weeks that the mill has shut down, would make any newspaper man feel remarkably rich, and financially comfortable.

OUR NARROW GAUGE

Railroad between here and Battle Mountain, ninety-three miles, is a more profitable concern than it has been. This is not by reason of any reduction of freights and fares, but in the greater economy of management, running less trains, or only enough to fill the requirements, and in the total abolishment of the dead-head system. No free passes are allowed, even to the clergy, little children or officers of the road. The conductor is the only man allowed a free pass, which is obviously good policy in that respect. Moreover, it is to the benefit of the road, as well as to Austin, that impecunious scrubs cannot get here without putting up or walking. The other railroads in this State may be financially demoralized by the free pass, dead-head system, but not the Nevada Central.

OUR HOLIDAYS

Passed off very nicely here in Austin, and all the children, as well as many of the grown folks, received Christmas and New Year's presents in abundance, mail and railroad facilities bringing in many from outside, to say nothing of the affluent abundance to be found in the stores. The toy and fancy goods trade was better than it has been for years, and Wright, Sower and others in that line increased their personal wealth very materially.

ALF. DOTEN.

TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Sunday. . . . . . . . . . January 20, 1884

FROM EASTERN NEVADA.

Austin's Temperatures—Skating Rink Troubles—Reese River Ice—Also Catfish—A Scrub Comet—Sad Life and Death History—The Curfew Bill—A Most Excellent Town Ordinance—Political and Senatorial—Gone to Butte, Montana—Nickel-Plated—Darling Old Venus

[Correspondence of the Enterprise.]

AUSTIN, Nev., January 18, 1884.

Perhaps it is just as wintry on the Comstock as it is in Austin. Anyhow, the temperature here is numerously variable, and it is no trick whatever for a nice, Spring-like day to wind up with a vicious zero freeze. As to that matter, the average Austin thermometer slides up or down the scale as if it were greased. A fellow finds his ears and mustache freezing from no apparent cause, and on looking at the thermometer finds it away down among the lower zeros. Then he for the first time realized that it is cold. But the greatest difficulty that the skating rink projectors heretofore mentioned, on Main street, have to contend with, is the porousness of the soil. They poured on the water, and plenty of it, but the porous soil took it in like a sponge. A cold snap caught some of the water before it could soak away, and since then, by frequently and judiciously irrigating the surface of the ice, they have at last succeeded in forming a pretty good rink upon which skaters may amuse themselves with perfect safety, knowing that if they could break through, they would be in no danger from drowning, but more from suffocation with dust.

REESE RIVER ICE.

Speaking ice, Joaquin Patargo, who cuts up Reese river every Winter, and hauls it to town for Summer use, complains that he has not been able to get over two feet in thickness of ice thus far this season. Last Winter it froze five feet deep, or away down into the mud, compelling the catfish to burrow deeper for safety. This depth of water or thickness of ice can, of course, only be secured by damming the river. This he did this season in good time, therefore has it all secured, and will finally bring it to town, leaving the catfish to depend upon the Spring thaw from the headwaters for desired irrigation. Reese river catfish, however, although you may dig them up like potatoes, don't seem to mind it so long as there is any moisture at all in the soil, but are willing to wait till water comes. Mr. Dadd gives me these facts in piscatorial experience, corroborated and verified by Joaquin himself. They are both prominent members of the Society of Reese River Pioneers, consequently can be depended upon as perfectly reliable. And I have noticed myself that the genuine Reese river catfish have snouts or noses like hogs, made especially for rooting or burrowing in dry weather, and also have a pouch in each cheek, like a gopher.

THE NEW COMET

Has become stale in the estimation of Austinites. It has an extremely insignificant look, and is evidently a two bits a bushel affair, and as for any extra merit claimed for it on account of having two tails, that's nothing. Four tails and an extra set of legs would not add any dignity to its pusillanimous appearance. It comes in with the grand red sunsets, and can best be seen as the sunsets fade away into nightly darkness, yet it is apparently too insignificant and not influential enough to produce these famous and truly remarkable sunsets. It will be observed that this glowingly redolent phenomenon still continues, regardless of all theories. It is simply a peculiarity of the season. Only this, and nothing more.

THE FINAL ENDING.

Fannie Schuyler, one of the demi-monde, died of pneumonia last Friday. She was about thirty-six years of age, as near as she could remember, and was formerly well known in your city in the flush times. Many will recollect her as a very pretty woman, with a neat, doll-like complexion and appearance, but whisky, opium and general dissipation destroyed her beauty and made her a wreck. She came to Austin immediately after the great fire of October 26, 1875, and here remained, continuing her downward career. She was quiet and inoffensive and evidently her own worst enemy. Her funeral was quite largely attended by people of her own class and others, and she received decent burial in the public cemetery below town. In accordance with her request no minster officiated. An ancient colored woman, known as "Old Car'line," read a hymn; there was some singing, and the hearse was followed by a large hack, three buggies, one omnibus, two grocery wagons and a butcher cart, containing those attending the funeral. Her real name was Margaret Ann Dumarsh; she was of Canadian parentage, and a native of Watertown, New York. Whatever may have been the primary inducing causes of her downward career in life were best known to herself, but it may be a consolation to the poor creature's relatives to know that she received proper care at the final ending and decent burial.

THE CURFEW BELL.

Owing to the tendency of our young Austin boys to gravitate toward hoodlumism and get into bad company and follow bad habits after dark, the Board of Commissioners concluded to make them go home at night and not run the streets any more. A town ordinance was accordingly passed to that effect, and now form the tower of the hall of Eagle Engine company, No. 3, rings aloud the curfew bill every evening, at 8 o'clock, giving just eight taps as a warning for the boys to vanish homeward or be arrested. The boys tumbled to the racket forthwith, not willingly but judiciously, knowing that the entire police force stood ready and watching to gobble them up unless they could show authoritative permission from parents or guardians, or that they were on errands, or in the discharge of some legitimate duty. At all public entertainments heretofore, especially theatrical, etc., these boys have been a very serious source of annoyance to both performers and audience, crowding the back seats and entry and driving decent people wild with their yells, shrieks, whistling and stamping. It had to be stopped. This ordinance is a most excellent one, operates well, and other towns and cities besides Austin might adopt the same plan to very good advantage.

POLITICAL.

The importance of the coming political campaign is very well appreciated, but the political pot does not boil very fiercely as yet; in fact, it is hardly time. The shrewdest question on the political docket for consideration is, Who is to succeed Jones as United States Senator from Nevada. The chances are that he will be a candidate to succeed himself, in view of which proposition those who do not like Jones are trying hard to study up some man to beat him. This point is not easily decided, with the material at hand, but some kind of a Joshua may come in to the rescue between now and November. We shall see.

GONE PROSPECTING.

Harry Bluett, formerly well known among the miners of the Comstock, but for the last few years an active worker in the subterranean operations of Austin, left here yesterday morning for Butte, Montana. He proposes prospecting that section of the country for a few months but will of course return, unless he can do better there than here. He struck a good pitch or so in these mines last year, and paid a visit to his relatives and friends in England. He also got married, and was going to take his wife on a prospecting expedition to Mexico, but the prevalence of yellow fever there prevented, so he left his wife in the cold country and came back. But he has sent for her, and expects to meet her here in the sweet by and by, when he, too, like scores of others who have tried it, shall have come to the conclusion that Montana, with her nickel-souled population from the East, is no profitable or congenial community for an old Comstock Nevadan. Anyhow, Harry is a very popular gentleman, with lots of friends to wish him the best of luck.

VENUS.

Old Joe was drunk again last evening, and, as usual, waxed sentimental. He held up a telegraph pole on the street corner and gazed fondly and reverentially upon the red sunset and the comet, and especially upon Venus, thus rapturously soliloquizing as he gazed: "Dear gor-blessed old Veny, night after night I've watched you patiently transitin' arosser face of the sun, yet other folks failin' ter reckernize yer. But old Joe recks'nize yer, betcher ribs, old gal. Won't throw off on yer for no damn snide of a two-tail comet, either. But, sh-h-h! here comes Mrs. B., a-huntin for me. Good-bye, old Veny, gorbless yer. Adios." Right here his home regulator seized him gently by the collar and elbow and dragged him off up a side street.

The clouds have rolled by, and the weather is milder, sunshiny and genial. 'Tis well. ALF. DOTEN.

TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Sunday. . . . . . . . . . February 3, 1884

FROM EASTERN NEVADA.

Celestial New Year Amenities—An Affluence of Snow—Something About Stocks and Newspaper Men—The Bush and the Bird—That Tipperary Dividend—Booms—Mining Outlook—The Old Comstock, Her Present Condition, Prospects and Future Possibilities.

[Correspondence of the Enterprise.]

AUSTIN, Nev., February 1, 1884.

The advent of China New Year, with its accompanying heavy snows, drove away those famous red glowing sunsets very summarily. And it was noticeable that they passed off to the westward. The comet, also, is about played out; but the snow remains in all its original purity, and plenty of it for the present. Old settlers say there has not been so heavy a snowfall for years along the Toiyabe range and in Smoky Valley as was deposited by the recent storm. Between here and Belmont the depth of the snow is variously estimated at from two to twenty feet. Indeed, an old Reese River pioneer, who came in from a scouting raid in that direction, pledges me his word that he found the snow over forty feet deep in some places, and still coming down at the rate of a foot an hour, "every flake big as a flapjack," and that he waded over ten miles that way without a drink of whisky. He describes his sufferings as something fearful, but he had no snowshoes, and when he tells of any one of his venerated old kind traveling ten miles without whisky, under any circumstances whatever, I know he lies.

CHINA NEW YEAR

Was ushered in after the true Celestial style by our numerous Mongolian fellow citizens. The noisy, infernal racket of crackers, bombs and heavy torpedoes blew up the latent stinks and thoroughly fumigated Chinatown, but as they do the same thing on the Fourth of July or any other proud occasion, the Piutes are thrown into a state of perpetual wonder as to its real signification. Sam Kee, the washman, came around smiling and treated every one of his numerous patrons to a cigar. He said his lily, Soi Sin Fwar (Water-God Flower) was in full bloom that day, insuring him luck and prosperity for the year; therefore his celestial goose hung particularly high. All the Johns and Sams put on their most stylish rig, had their tails freshly braided, and went around calling. The women, too, wore their best dungaree pants, bloomingest paint, nobbiest hair-pins and gayest handkerchiefs, and in all the principal houses were nice little lay-outs of cakes, sweetmeats, nuts, rice brandy, cigars, etc., for all who would partake. The chief drummer and the B flat gong performer lost heavily at "tan" the night before, and got drunk; therefore, there was none of their inspiring strains to mar the festivities of the occasion, but the big dragon flag and various streamers floated above the smoke and hilarious explosive din, and the moon-eyed sons and daughters of Confucius grinned at each other, exchanged salutes, and were happy, if nothing else.

STOX.

It is rather refreshing to note the present little boom in stocks by way of agreeable variety from the universal apathetic monotony which has so long ruled the market. From conversation with parties who have been there and seen, there is little doubt that another very rich prospect is opened up in the Bodie mine. How extensive and expensive the new development is, remains to be seen; but it is sufficient to cause a lively stir in stocks, and give somebody a chance to get even, some to get rich; and many to get broke. The rich strike in that mine a few years ago was well groomed and boomed in the newspapers. Yet newspaper men are not the ones who reap the profit on these interesting occasions. They always do their best to represent and truly set forth the mining resources and prospects of their respective localities, as well of the State generally, but they simply beat the bush for somebody else to catch the bird. The assessment of $8 per share just levied on Northern Belle is a stunner to most people. With the stock selling at ten cents, it looks like a ridiculously bad business proposition, in fact, financial suicide to pay that assessment. But just wait till about the time it is delinquent, or sale day approaches, and the chances are that some sort of a boom will be worked up, through the newspapers, inducing hopeful stockholders to continue in the good faith, and send more good money after bad. Without the newspapers Northern Belle would not be dead and buried, with no possible hope of resurrection. But so it has been in the history of the Comstock---the newspapers always showed up all mining development to the very best advantage, and worked up the stock booms, yet somebody else always reaped the harvest, and though millions were thereby made by other people, the newspaper men remained poor; the crumbs falling to them from the rich man's table being merely a profitless aggravation in the way of excited hopes.

THE MINING OUTLOOK

At the present time, generally speaking, it not particularly healthy. Many localities in this section and elsewhere in the State which were producing bullion a year ago are not doing so now, and assessments are levied on mines that were paying dividends. Some new and good prospects have been developed in the Carson and Colorado Railroad section, the most ponderous and perhaps the most profitable being the Mount Cory, yet the real success of even that development is not yet fully demonstrated. After all, the old Comstock holds out about as well as any of them. It is true her big bonanza days seems to have departed, yet let it not be forgotten that her probabilities and hopes of future bonanzas are still good, and not departed by any means. It is an absurdity on the part of any newspaper to speak of the Comstock as lost to the wealth of the State when the grand old lode is still producing more bullion and employing more labor and capital than any other mine or mining section in the State. Small ledges, let them be ever so rich, can be and are completely worked out, leaving simply the shell with not even low grade ore for future reference, but not so with the Comstock. Many very rich spots have been worked out, yet there is plenty of room for more to be found, and a whole vast wilderness of low-grade ore developed, which can be and is building profitably worked. When the long purses get tired of rushing down into the hot lower levels of the lode, where for years they have expensively delved and found nothing, or go back and pay more attention to explorations above the level of the Sutro tunnel, where all the bonanzas have been found, then renewed prosperity will reign along the Comstock. One straight-forward, practical mining man at the south end, in the Gold Hill section, has followed this idea for years, and has been the only one to make money. He has naturally and deservedly got rich in so doing. What one man has done many others may do. There is plenty of room in the upper workings of the broad Comstock belt, among the affluence of low-grade ore, for more rich bonanzas to be found and some time in the future, when a different policy is pursued, they will be found. ALF DOTEN.

TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Sunday. . . . . . . . . . February 17, 1884

FROM EASTERN NEVADA.

Coal Oil Efficiency—Fire Extinguishment—Frozen Water Troubles—Cold Zero Comforts—A Chronic Lawsuit—Valentine Varieties and Aggravations—Ruby Silver and Bullion Bricks—Satisfactory Mining Depths—Reese River Railroading—Linen Dusters, Skates and Religious Social Imrpovement—Quijotoa.

[Correspondence of the Enterprise.]

AUSTIN, Nev., February 15, 1884.

The morning air is heavy and unfragrant with the floating odors of coal oil fire-kindling, for in this desperately cold weather the thrifty, scantily-dressed housewife, as she starts the domestic fire, eagerly desires to make a sure thing of it as fast as possible. Coal oil only costs six bits a gallon here, and a gallon will start several fires. In fact, we all remember when even a bottle full, judiciously applied, has started a fire destroying a goodly section of Virginia City, or made insurance policies available in Gold Hill. During the last two or three years we haven't had a fire worth mentioning in Austin, and the insurance companies have a soft, lucrative thing of it. This is doubtless owing to the known alertness and efficiency of our Fire Department. Yes, and now it is proposed to buy a lot of Harkness' Fire Extinguishers and distribute them in convenient localities all along Main street. Just imagine a lamp explosion in a toy shop, and forty-seven active citizens rushing madly in, each with a sort of soda fountain or mammoth syringe on his back, and playing forty-seven streams upon the flames, or upon each other, the interest of the occasion still further heightened by the sudden arrival of the Fire Department with big hose nozzles and deluges of water from numerous hydrants. Many a big conflagration has been prevented by the timely arrival and well directed potency of a Babcock fire extinguisher, and the Harkness is said to be even more effective. A gallon of prevention is better than a whole reservoir of cure, sometimes. Mr. Delosse, agent of the Harkness, who is here introducing them, gave a public test day before yesterday which was very satisfactory, and our gallant fire ladies kindly refrained from drowning him with water from their machines, same as was done with Murdock, agent for the Babcock, when he gave a big public test in Virginia City several years ago, with the old volunteer department on hand ready to guard against any possible danger from the fire getting away. Anyhow, whether needed or not, several Harknesses will be disposed of here, and Delosse will be at a loss to explain where de loss comes in, so far as he is concerned.

FROZEN WATER PIPES

Are disagreeably prevalent, and many a cuss word is directed at obstinate faucets which unexpectedly refuse to give down. Water seekers rush desperately from house to house, with pails and pitchers, and all whose water pipes are sick send for McGinnis at once. He is kept at work day and night. Joe McGinnis is as much of a public character in that line as "Water Mac" used to be in Gold Hill and Virginia. Down in Reese River Valley, at Battle Mountain and all along the line of the Central Pacific the thermometer during the recent cold snap got away down among the lower zeros, from thirty to fifty degrees, the latter figure being reached at Elko. Austin's coldest was about ten degrees below zero, in the shade. Such cold nights make a fellow wish he was a Mormon.

JARNDYCE VS. JARNDYCE.

The famous lawsuit of Harris vs. Harris, clothing dealers, etc., here and in San Francisco, came up again in the District Court, before Judge McKenney, last week. It is a sort of diamond cut diamond arrangement, with intervening and side suits to assist in mixing things up most perplexingly, and the numerous lawyers employed are all getting fat. Our local lawyers are all into the suit, and when the legal brigade from San Francisco, Sacramento and elsewhere came in and joined forces, last week, Austin was right lively and the saloons and restaurants did fine business. The lawyers are all provident enough to draw adequate fees at each trial phase of the case, and adjourn or postpone it as often as they can. So, last week they just got fired up right, and people thought there would be a two or three weeks' session of the case, when it was suddenly blocked by adjournment till May. Then it is proposed to commence anew, changing shifts so far as Judge is concerned. Four fresh Judges are given to select from, and by judicious changes, from time to time, the Harris vs. Harris case may be kept for an indefinite length of time in chancery, so to speak, like the famous suit of Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce, mentioned in Dickens' works.

ST. VALENTINE

Was very much celebrated yesterday, and Postmaster Gibson was driven wild with extra work, handling all sorts and sizes of valentines, many of them as big as barn windows. But the easily folded, more hideous and popular kind predominated. Most everybody received a valentine of some sort; but those who expected, and didn't receive, just went and bought the roughest they could find and directed them themselves to themselves. And these were the most proudly hilarious in showing to admiring friends their valentudinous acquisitions. Business men and respectable citizens were not exempt from severe valentine inflictions and atrocities. Jack Lisle, the restaurant man, got five horrible things, so diabolically reflecting upon his manner of feeding his patrons, his personal appearance and general character, that he miserably walked off down to the cemetery and wanted to die. Then there was a sedate, professional man, who got his keenest sensibilities dreadfully harrowed up by a huge picture of a cat—sent all the way from Reno—a fierce old tom cat, viciously gazing at the moon from a house-top, and gently caroling: "Hinc illae lachrymae." He regards it as the ghost of a bad cat which he caused to die not long ago, and feels retributively unhappy. The festivities of the day wound up last night with a grand valentine party at International Hall.

ORE AND BRICKS.

The mines here are turning out a goodly amount of extra good ore about now. It is of very high grade, some assaying up into the thousands per ton, and coming, as it does, from the lower levels of the Manhattan Company's mines, it shows very conclusively that the ore does not deteriorate, either in quality or quantity, as greater depth is attained, but quite the contract. This ruby silver ore from the condensed narrow ledges peculiar to this locality is the most beautiful silver ore in the world, and its honest richness is properly attested to by the almost daily shipments of ten bricks, worth over $1,000 Hinc illae brix.

NARROW GAUGE.

Notwithstanding the total suspension of the entire free list on the Nevada Central, between here and Battle Mountain, the receipts of the road have not fallen off to any appreciable extent, and the annual dividends to stockholders will not be interrupted. That gallant little narrow-gauge has become a prime necessary of life to this community. All the trains rush to and fro on time, regardless of the weather, and snow never cuts off the communication as on the great Central Pacific. The track is always kept clear and open by the millions of cattle in the valley tramping down the snow as they use the track for a convenient thoroughfare in passing through the sagebrush.

SOCIETY NOTES.

During the coldest of the recent cold snap, Stillwater Thompson, Captain Bob and other Piute chiefs had to wear as high as seven linen dusters in order to keep warm, and the squaws all wound barley sacks around their feet and ankles, and away up till they waddled badly, and their tracks in the cold snow were precisely like unto those famous prehistoric tracks in the State Prison quarry near Carson.

The Skating rink on Main Street has been made a glorious success by the cold weather, and its proprietors have become so wealthy that they have changed their names to Vanderbilt and Gould.

A lodge, wigwam or branch of the Young Men's Christian, etc., has been organized here, with a very flourishing membership and outlook. These juvenile Christians will not allow themselves to skate, drink, fish or fiddle on Sundays hereafter, but will attend more to mutual improvement and to the acquiring of further facilities in that line, extending the same to all who desire to join. It is a real good idea.

"Quijotoa." We have all read ever so much about it and its splendid bonanza prospects, but can't somebody tell the correct pronunciation of the word? Its derivation, definition, etymology, topography and all that sort of thing have been well ventilated, but won't somebody tell what syllable or syllables the accent comes upon? Kee-ho-to-e will do for pronunciation; now where does the accent come in?

ALF. DOTEN.

TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Sunday. . . . . . . . . . March 2, 1884

FROM EASTERN NEVADA.

The Shutting Down of the Manhattan Mill—Rich Sweepings and General Clean—up—Bullion Shipments—Mill Saturation and Human Bodily Richness—A Prosperous Milling run—Good Bullion Yield for Reese River District—About the Mines—Lovely Ruby Silver Veins—Excellent, Advantageous and Successful Mining Management—Present and Future Prospects—Telegraphic—Political—Society Notes—Etc.

[Correspondence of the Enterprise.]

AUSTIN, Nev., February 29, 1884.

Our great ore reducer and bullion producer, the Manhattan mill, has at last shut down to take a rest. It shut down on Wednesday of last week, so far as the stamps were concerned, but the pan department kept running for the rest of the week, and, in fact, did not get through with the clean-up until last Monday or Tuesday.

A CLEAN-UP

Of the Manhattan mill means something more than with ordinary mills. Being operated by the dry crushing, Stedefeldt process, working rich ore, it becomes loaded with rich chloride dust from one end to the other. Commencing at the reception and battery end, it has to be swept clean throughout every department, and the extensive furnace flue dust chambers, through the intricate winding passages of which the dry-floured ore or pulp has to pass a distance of about 500 feet to the tall, main brick chimney or stack, all are swept clean as soon as sufficiently cooled to permit. These sweepings, added to the accumulated pulp at the furnace when the batteries stop, keep the pan department well and most lucratively employed for some days, for these sweepings are decidedly rich, as shown by the daily shipments of ten bullion bricks, each brick worth over $1,000. Yet, even now, as the old mill stands, thoroughly swept and cleaned out, it is completely saturated with rich chloride ore fumes throughout, even to the shingles on the broad roofs, and were the whole concern to burn up, or down, the ground it covers would pay splendidly to run through amalgamating pans, following up its regular old yield of ten bricks a day for a week. Yes, and then it would pay well to cremate Superintendent Charley Durning, James Robinson, the ore weigher and sampler, and James Sullivan, the furnace manager, all three of whom have worked amid the dust of the mill for so many long years that they, also, have become thoroughly saturated with the richest chloride.

A PROSPEROUS RUN.

Occasionally, during the last few years, owing to scarcity of ore in the mine, the mill has only been able to make short runs of three or four months at a time, then having to wait for an adequate ore accumulation before starting up again. This last run commenced on the 28th of October, 1882, and has been continuous with the exception of one or two brief stoppages, for a period of sixteen months, being the longest run for some years. It does not close now from lack of ore entirely, but to make a general overhauling, especially in the pan department, where the old pan frames have been giving considerable trouble, and have to be renewed. The mill will be put in complete repair throughout, meanwhile allowing some weeks' time for a good accumulation of ore, not only at the mill, but at the dumps and ore houses of the various mining works. The result of the sixteen months run is pretty good for an old mill out in the country, grinding up a lot of little narrow ledges. During that period it reduced 8.306 tons of ore, and produced therefrom silver bullion to the amount of $1,662,000, the average yield being a little over $200 per ton. Of course the ore varies very much in value, form below $100 per ton to up in the thousands, but the average output of the mill has been very steadily continuous in the way of regular bullion shipments—ten bars at a time, each brick worth over $1,000. This is essentially silver bullion, the very small proportion of gold contained in it not being taken into consideration. The Manhattan has been the only working mill here for some years past, and from its records, as well as other sources, the yield of Reese River mining district, including neighboring ores milled here, has thus far amounted to over $30,000,000. The Manhattan still averages $1,000,000 a year, right straight along.

THE MINES.

It must be borne in mind that although the ore averages so richly the expense of extraction and reduction is much greater here than where the ledges are large, with plenty of free-milling ores. The numerous veins are fames for their narrowness and uncertainty as well as for their richness. The ore belt is about as wide as the Comstock, and the veins are comparatively as numerous as the veins in the human body; yes, and comparatively as large, being from two inches to two or three feet in width, and from three to six inches on the average. And they may appropriately be termed varicose veins, bunching out in places and pinching out in others, with an occasional aneurism that pays big. And the simile holds good in the ruby silver character of the ore composing these pretty little veins, showing streaks and spots like human blood. These mines have been and still are very systematically and carefully worked, most excellent mining judgment and engineering skill controlling the whole. Were they not thus managed, under the most complete, thoroughly-organized system, they could not be made to pay. The past shows for itself, and the future continues very promising. These mines have not yet been worked more than one-third as deep as the Comstock, so far as actual depth is concerned. The veins lie at such a flat angle that the principal incline, the Paxton, has penetrated from the surface some 1800 feet, following the ledge, or vein, and yet an hardly be considered to have reached 1000 feet below the surface. About 40 men are given employment, nearly half of whom work on lease or contract. Quite a number of prospecting mines are also worked outside of those belonging to the Manhattan Company, but this company regulates and controls the situation. The amount of ore in sight in the various workings of the company is not so good as at the commencement of the recent long run of the mill, yet the showing at all points continues healthy and very promising, and the exceedingly rich character of the ore holds out well at the very lowest depths attained. Some of the richest ruby and stephanite ore ever found here has been produced lately from the lower levels. Owing to the breakages in the veins and general uncertainties, a vast amount of dead work has to be done, and even in bonanza times, when there is plenty of rich ore insight, there is no cessation of prospecting work, with a view to future resources. As before remarked, good practical mining judgment and careful engineering has to be constantly brought to bear, and vigilant watchfulness at all points. The Manhattan Company does not pay dividends at present, but it pays all its bills, needs no assessments, and keeps things running on a solid foundation. The which proposition is pretty good in itself for this community.

TOO MUCH OF A NOT GOOD THING.

Why is it that the telegrams from the East are allowed to consist so largely of items unimportant to people of this section generally. It is well enough to state that the Ohio river is up and flooding a large portion of North America, but the vast majority of people on this coast did not come from Ohio, and never even washed in that limpid stream. Consequently, the harrowing details of the sweeping away of pig pens and chicken coops, as well as the specified inches in rise or fall at all the numerous points up and down the river, are of local importance and interest more to Ohioans who are not running for the Presidency than to the general public, for whom newspaper telegrams are supposed to be intended. And so with European telegrams. What the blazes do we care about knowing that Bismarck has the belly-ache? Why physic the telegraph with so much trashy truck? Yet now John Mackay is stringing cables across the ocean, and more wires all over the country, with a new invention which is to give us ever so much more telegraphic facilities than we ever dreamed of before. There is too much of the thing already. If, however, Mackay will succeed in killing about seven-eighths of the present telegraphic noodle reporters and substituting something more practically useful, he will receive the blessing of all sensible newspaper men and the suffering public generally.

POLITICAL.

I notice that the Republican State Central Committee is to hold a meeting next Monday in your city. This will be the first meeting of the campaign, and the most important in many respects. It will arrange time and place for the State Convention, give apportionment of delegates thereto, and give other pertinent details of work to be laid out for the campaign. And it should be borne in mind that the Democracy have a special eye to the present campaign, which is likely to prove the most important in the political history of the country. A great responsibility rests upon the action of the present republican committee, and they had better bear this fact in mind, and be careful about making any false moves on the political checker board.

SOCIETY NOTES.

The skating rink on Main street has been considerably improved by the recent thaw. A man may skate about and imagine that he is a steamboat skipping through the water, and even the ladies, when they happen to slip up, and come down, can imagine themselves taking a sitz bath, cooling and nice, like mopping up a dining-room floor.

Austin youngsters are, as a general rule, not worse than the youngsters of other good localities in this State, but at least one youth came to deserved grief the other evening. His viciously amorous propensities induced him to stop "Topsy," a well-known Piute female who happened to be passing along, and the result was that the foolish youth not only got roughly handled by Topsy herself, but her buck, who happened along about that time, jerked an old knife and dug a hole in the back of the boy' neck, and also under his eye. He escaped by lively running, but people generally approve of his bad luck, as a good lesson to the other boys who are big enough to know better. And most people who know Topsy to be a "son of a gun on wheels" do not admire the youth's discretion. He got a salutary lesson, which may, perhaps, prove of benefit, even so far as white girls may be concerned.

Our Austin company of the Nevada National Guard advertised to turn out on public parade Washington's Birthday, but backed out because the expected uniforms for their band did not arrive. Would Washington have failed to turn out with his army to battle for any such reason? People thought it was the company that was to parade, not the band. A plain drum and fife would have answered very well, but the company tacitly said that it was nobody, nothing with a uniformed band.

The water pipes about town which were frozen have all thawed out or been properly fixed, and all concerned are happy.

A. A. Flint has torn down a couple of China wash-houses on Main street, and contemplates the erection of an adobe furniture store in their place. This is the only improvement projected in the town at present.

Many old prospectors are talking glibly about going to Coeur d'Alene or Quijotoa before long, but they won't go. They do not know how to pronounce the name of either locality.

Is this new moon a dry or a wet one?

ALF. DOTEN.