History of the big bonanza

by Dan De Quille

In the spring of 1857, Hosea Grosch, while engaged in mining, stuck a pick in his foot, inflicting a wound, from the effects of which he died, in a few days. In November of that year, while on his way to Volcano, California, Allen, the surviving brother, was caught in a heavy storm in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and had his feet frozen so badly that amputation was necessary, from the shock of which operation he died. With the brothers was lost the secret of the whereabouts of their silver-mine; if they ever discovered any silver except that contained in the ore of the veins of argentiferous galena I have mentioned.

After the discovery of the old furnaces of the Grosch brothers in 1860, there was much search by miners in the neighborhood for the mine they had been prospecting, but no mine was ever found.

In a sort of sink on the side of a large mountain, at the foot of which stood the cabin and furnaces of the brothers, was found an old shaft. Here was supposed to be the spot where they had worked, and the place was “located” (“claimed” or “pre-empted”), and called the “Lost Shaft.”

About the first discovery made by the locators, when they began cleaning out the shaft, was the body—a sort of mummy—of a Piute squaw, who had been murdered some years before by members of her tribe, who had tumbled her remains into the old shaft.

After finding this “dead thing,”[thing,”] the owners of the claim let a contract for the further sinking and exploration of the old shaft. The men who took the contract soon gave it up. They said they could not work in the shaft; that stones were falling out of its sides without cause. Others took the contract, and each party of miners that went to work in the shaft gave it up, saying that their lives were endangered by the stones which suddenly and at unexpected times, jumped out of its sides. A tunnel was then started to tap the ledge on which the old shaft was supposed to have been sunk, but it was never completed. It is now well known that the old shaft was sunk by a party of Gold Cañon miners in 1851, they having taken it into their heads that from this curious-looking pit or sink in the side of the mountain came all the gold found below in the cañon.

There was also a story current among the miners, in 1860, that before starting on the trip over the Sierras which resulted in his death, Allen Grosch boxed up the library and all the chemical and assaying apparatus, and cached the whole somewhere about Grizzly Hill, the mountain at the base of which stood the cabin occupied by the brothers. There was much search by curious miners in the neighborhood for this supposed deposit of valuables. They crawled under the edge of shelving rocks, peered into crevices among the cliffs, and probed all suspicious-looking stone-heaps, but no bonanza of scientific apparatus was ever discovered. When Allen Grosch left to go over the mountains to California, Comstock was placed in charge of the cabin, and it is very probable that whatever books and apparatus there may have been were carried away by such visitors as took a fancy to them, and thus were scattered and lost.

In the summer of 1860 I was camped on a branch of Gold Cañon, near where the old stone-cabin of the Grosch brothers stood. I had a score or more of neighbors, whose tents were pitched on the banks of the ravine, or who, having no tents, made the willows on the bars their shelter. One hot day in July, one of the men, a big, long-legged Missourian, started up the mountain to see what he could find. One object probably was to look for the Grosch scientific “bonanza,” but, being a man who had no more knowledge of ores and minerals than a Piute, he was quite sure to make some remarkable discovery, no matter in what direction he traveled.

He had been absent some hours when, looking up towards the summit of Grizzly Hill, we saw a cloud of dust moving down the face of the mountain. In the midst of this whirling cloud, we caught occasional glimpses of a man, bounding along like a wild goat. Rocks disturbed by his feet, rolled down the steep slope of the mountain, adding greatly to the dust and commotion. All in camp were soon out gazing at the unusual spectacle, and all wondered what had happened to “Pike,” who by this time had been recognized by his long legs and reckless manner of handling them.

Some thought that a bear or some other wild beast was in pursuit of Pike, as he charged down the steep mountain in a manner so reckless that it was very evident he was taking no thought of the risk he ran of breaking his neck.

Over jutting ledges and through huge patches of loose, sliding rock, bounded Pike, and soon he came rushing wild-eyed into camp.