The prospector is a man of small pretentions, of peaceful disposition, indomitable will, boundless perseverance, remarkable endurance, undoubted courage, irrepressible hopefulness, and unlimited hospitality. He is the friend of every man till he has evidence that the man is his enemy, and he is the most respected man in the mining regions of the West.
Of what does the prospector's outfit consist? That is a question the writer put to one of the ilk who was just starting out for the desert.
"Plenty of bacon, son," said he, "for that's whar ye git yer grease fer to fry yer flap-jacks, yer stock fer soup, an' it gives ye rines fer the burro to chaw. Next ye takes rice, fer it don't take up much room an' it swells like all-git-out when ye gits it in the pot. Comes mighty handy in yer soup, too. Half a dozen onions an' a few taters—not many, fer ye can't tote 'em—them's fer soup, too, an' then the flour. Flour's the principal thing in the grub line. A few beans is good an' they swells like the rice. Then thar's the tent canvas an' the blankets an' the pick an' shovel an' pan, fer washin' dirt, the mortar an' chemicals fer testin' rock, an' the cookin' outfit. There's a knife, a fork, a spoon, a tin plate an' cup an' the fryin' pan, an' thar ye are."
The prospector no longer deems it necessary to seek entirely new territory in which to prosecute his search for the precious metal. He has learned that good results are obtained on ground many times prospected. It takes sharp eyes to detect traces of the precious stuff—not only that, but keen judgment and technical knowledge coupled with experience.
AN AGED PROSPECTOR AT MOUTH OF HIS MINE
From photograph by C. C. Pierce & Co.