As mid-May rolled around, Sidewinder Shorty and the 4 others were swapping tales around the table at the Shamrock Saloon in New Dale. The mines were starting to play out and there wasn’t much work left. The Bon-Ton had closed down and moved all it equipment to the Nightingale Mine and the the Supply was running one crew of six men. Hardrock Sal asks Shorty if he remembered old Scotty McDonald the freight hauler? Shorty says ya I remember one time when I was coming back from San Bernardino, I caught a ride with him and a load of timber for the Virginia Dale. I tell you he was crazier than a coyote. He would talk to those mules of his like they was people.

Well anyway, we got a late start and camped south of the dry lake at the foot of the mountains there. After he bedded down the mules, he says to me, I’m going for a walk why don’t you start dinner and earn your keep. Well I got a fire going and put on some coffee and proceeded to look for something to cook or eat. It was just about this time that a big old jack jumped out of the bushes and I decided rabbit was for dinner. Hell it took me 4 shots before I hit that damn rabbit.

Now shorty why in the hell would you shot a jack, you know they ain’t worth eating. The things are tough as nails and taste like grease wood trees. I know that but old Scotty didn’t have a thing to eat in the grub box except hard tack and whiskey.

Limping George chimes in and says to Shorty, “just how did you cook that thing?” Well sir, I boiled that jack for about an hour and then roasted him over the fire!

It was getting pretty dark out and I was starting to worry about old Scotty. He had been gone for a couple hours and them mules of his were getting restless. I think the smell of that jack cooking made them uneasy. So here I am turning this rabbit over the fire when I hear old Scotty yelling at the top of his lungs, I found it, I found it. Well as he hit camp, I asked him what he found and he dumped out a bag of ore that was just laced with gold. After we both settled down, Scotty saw the jack cooking and asked what in the name of blaze’s I was thinking try to cook a jack rabbit.

So I proceed to tell him that if he had some food on that damn wagon I wouldn’t have had to shot the rabbit. Scotty goes and breaks out the whiskey and two big old knives and says “well if we are going to try and eat that thing we will need something to kill the taste”. I tell you George, that jack was tough as nails but didn’t taste half bad with the whiskey. Well after dinner, Scotty and I made plans to get an early start and get some more ore and file a claim.

Scotty and I spent two days looking for that vein. We couldn’t find it anywhere. We covered every inch of that mountain and found nothing. We followed his tracks to the mountain but from there it was anyone’s guess.

By this time old Slim the bartender got into the conversation. He says I remember when you two came into the saloon and Scotty showed us the ore. That was some pretty hi-grade stuff. Old man Duff bought that bag of ore from Scotty if I remember right.

Old Scotty wasn’t the same after that. He hauled freight for two more years and then sold his rig to old Tall John from Indio. Scotty did keep one mule, old Henry his lead mule, got a grubstake from Duff and spent the rest of his life looking for the vein.

Limping George says, ” I hear tell that some mining company out of Victorville has found a pretty rich ore vein in those mountains and are working on it right now”. I wonder if that is the same vein old Scotty lost and couldn’t find?

Old Slim asks Shorty, just how much whiskey did you all have on that wagon? “I don’t know Slim, all I do remember was that Scotty insisted that the water was for the mules. So all we had to drink was that whiskey.”

As Shorty sat there thinking to himself, he just knew that the new mine was Scotty’s lost gold vein and yet, he just couldn’t figure out how they missed it.

The mine went on to produce a goodly amount of gold right to the 1980’s when the government shut it down for trespassing on federal land. It seems that as they tunneled on into the ore vein they crossed over into a federally protected area and the BLM and USMC didn’t see the humor in the trespass.

The names and places have been changed to protect the mining community.