There is every reason to believe that the lead mines of Sinking Valley were known to the French as early as 1750. Although they searched extensively for minerals, it is not probable that they ventured as far into the Penn lands as Sinking Valley, unless the secret of the existence of the mines had been imparted to them by the Indians.
The Indians of the Juniata, after they had acquired the use of fire-arms, could always procure an abundance of lead. This, they said, they procured—almost pure—on a ridge, near where Mifflintown now stands, in Kishicoquillas Valley; and also at the foot, or in one of the ravines, of the mountain. With true Indian craft, the warriors kept the precise location of the lead mines a secret. The scarcity of lead, in early days, made it a valuable commodity to the settlers; and many an Indian's jug was filled with whiskey on promise of showing the lead mines—promises that were always "kept to the ear, but broken to the hope." It is, therefore, pretty evident that all the lead-ore the savages displayed was procured in Sinking Valley;—if they obtained any at other places along the Juniata, the mines have not yet been discovered, and not for the lack of many thorough searches for them, either.
The supposition that the French had been prospecting extensively in Sinking Valley many years ago is based upon the fact that, previous to Roberdeau's erecting the fort, several old drifts or openings were discovered, as well as an irregular trench, extending from the upper to the lower lead mines,—a distance of nearly six miles. The vestiges of this trench are still visible, and there is no question but what the digging of it and the immense amount of labor necessary for its construction was performed in the full confidence that they would be rewarded by the discovery of a silver mine, or, at least, an inexhaustible bed of pure lead-ore.
The fact that lead-ore existed in Sinking Valley was ascertained by the settlers about 1763, and the consequence was that a number of persons took up their residence there, but without purchasing lands. The certainty of the existence of lead, and the fabulous stories of the existence of various other precious metals, induced the proprietary family to reserve it to themselves, and to that end George Woods surveyed it for them a short time previous to the Revolution.
The earliest accounts we have of any permanent settlers in Sinking Valley bears date of 1760. There is a well-authenticated story of an occurrence that once took place in 1763, but neither names nor dates have been transmitted. Mr. Maguire had frequently heard the woman's name mentioned, who became quite a heroine, and lived in Sinking Valley until some time during the Revolution; but it had slipped his memory.
The story was that a man occupied a cabin in the upper end of the valley, and one day left it to go to the mouth of the Bald Eagle, leaving his wife and child at home. No savages had been in the neighborhood for some time, and, in fact, no friendly Indians either, except some few who resided in what is now known as Tuckahoe Valley. Fortunately, the man possessed two rifles, both of which he loaded, placed one over the chimney-piece, the other upon his shoulder, and departed on his errand. While the woman was busy attending to her household affairs, she saw two Indians, partly concealed by some bushes in front of the house. In an instant she took down the loaded gun, and watched their motions through the window. In a few minutes both of them stealthily approached the house, when she pointed the gun at the foremost savage and fired; the bullet striking him in the breast, he fell to rise no more. The other savage came directly toward the house, when the woman, still retaining in her grasp the rifle, ascended a ladder to the loft, where she stood with the gun in an attitude of defiance. The quick eye of the Indian detected her movements, and he followed, but with the usual caution of a savage; and when his head reached the opening, he peered into the dark garret to see his intended victim. Grasping one of the puncheons which composed the floor with one hand, he attempted to draw up his rifle with the other, when a discharge followed, and he fell lifeless to the floor. The woman, more dead than alive with fear, remained for a time in the loft, but, hearing no noise, she at length ventured down-stairs, and at the foot of the ladder found the savage perfectly dead, lying in a pool of blood. She took her child out of the cradle, and started for the mouth of the Bald Eagle, but fortunately met her husband but a few rods from the house.
All things taken into consideration, and especially the fact that the woman had never pulled the trigger of a gun before, this was probably one of the most heroic acts on record.
The nearest neighbors were summoned, and, on examining into the matter, it was concluded that, after the first Indian had been shot, the second one immediately cocked his rifle, and that while ascending the ladder the trigger must have been touched by a twig on the hickory rung of the ladder. The bullet had struck him under the chin, passed through his tongue, and lodged in his brain. His death was certainly an interposition of Providence in behalf of the woman and her infant child.
THE CAVE IN SINKING VALLEY.