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vol. title: Miscellaneous Scraps from January 1st 1878 vol. period: 1875-1878 pages in vol.: 153 |
< Nevada`s Wonderful Cave (continued from page 5-97) >
When the war ended he pictured to himself in rapturous delight the happiness that would fall to his lot when he could once again gaze upon the faces of his loving wife and dear children. He took passage for Southern Kentucky. Upon arriving at the spot where his hopes and happiness were centred, there awaited him nothing but a mass of charred ruins. The strong man dismounted from his horse and sat down upon the ground, weeping like a child. He learned that about a year before the close of the war a small band of straggling troops had infested that portion of Kentucky, and that the family of Grant had been murdered, and the incendiary torch was brought into play. In the early spring of 1866 he engaged passage in a mule train which was then about crossing the plains, and afterward arrived in this State, and emigrated to the most extreme southern end of the Walker river mountains, where he has been existing ever since, only at rare intervals seeing the detested face of a white man.
A number of the Walker river tribe looked up to him with great reverence, supposing him to be endowed with supernatural powers. About two months ago one of these Indians, who had been a recipient of special favors at the hands of Grant, desirous of exhibiting his gratitude, requested our hero to accompany him on a two–days’ ramble through the mountains, and he would show him a cave wonderfully rich with gold and silver. What direction of the compass the party followed, Grant is reluctant about revealing. At all events, after travelling about two days and a half, our hero and his companion arrived at dusk one evening in a narrow cañon, or mountain gorge, enclosed on either side by rugged, steep mountains. In this vicinity, the Indian said, the cave was located. A camp fire was lighted, and while Grant was cooking supper his companion went in search of the exact location of the cave, so that no time would be lost in finding it in the morning. The Indian returned with joy imprinted upon his copper-colored features, and imparted to Grant the satisfactory tidings that he had found the cave without difficulty, and that, notwithstanding the darkness which then prevailed, the interior of this wonderful vault was as light as noonday. At an early hour next morning, after travelling in this cañon, which is many miles in length, for an hour, or maybe a little less, the Indian pointed to a pile of granite of immense weight, stacked up against the cragged side of a monster mountain, and told Grant that by removing the boulders an entrance to the cave could be effected. The two men immediately set to work at their herculean task, which occupied them nearly two hours. When the obstruction was removed, all that could be seen was an opening leading into the mountain, of dimensions only great enough to admit the bodies of two largely developed men; but the interior was as dark as Erebus. Grant ventured into this opening to the distance of about ten feet, but the intensity of the darkness precluded him from seeing his hands before his face. He cried out to his companion for some burning sagebrush, which was immediately thrust into the cave, but, strange to relate, this artificial light would not illuminate the darkness. Here was a nice pass. Grant emerged from his subterranean visit and consulted with his semi-savage companion as to the most expedient means to be employed in the emergency; it was useless to seek for gold or anything else in so dark a place where artificial light proved of no avail. The Indian then repeated his story of the illumination which he saw in the cave the preceding night. Although this yarn sounded rather improbable in the ears of an intelligent white man, yet the Indian was so earnest and sincere, to all outward appearances, that our hero decided to remain until the stars came out, and determine whether there was any truth in his companion’s fabulous narration. The men returned to the camping ground of the previous night and brought their traps to the mouth of the mysterious cave. It seemed as if that day never would draw to a close, so great was Grant’s impatience; but as twilight was approaching a slight glimmer was discernible at the mouth of the vault, yet the blackest darkness mortal ever beheld was still holding sway therein. But gradually, as night was falling, an unnatural light was making itself apparent, and at 9 o’clock that evening a ray of brilliant noonday light shot out from the opening of that wonderful subterranean passage. For the first time in many years Grant gave vent to a shout of delight. The Indian’s tale of seeming fiction and improbability was true. The sight was so grand, so wonderful, and so magnificent, that for a few moments Grant was rooted to the ground by a combination of terror and admiration. After a while he and companion entered the cave, but the light was so piercing and brilliant that for a few seconds the pair could see nothing; their vision seemed to be lost; but gradually their eyes became accustomed to the unnatural brilliancy of light, and the sight which met their gaze no person can depict. The walls and ceiling of this passage were covered with burnished gold and silver, the bulk of which comprised thousands of tons. Grant relates that the first sight of these treasures terrified him; but, after regaining his self-possession, he and the Indian made a tour of exploration. This cave is about one mile in length, 150 feet in width, and seventy feet high. The interior of this immense cave is shaped similar to an old gothic church, supported by large alabaster-like pillars, entwined by heavy golden and silver wire of the dimensions of a man’s finger, like the growth of ivy, and in a style of grandeur and magnificence that could never be produced by human hands. These pillars seem to have been placed in position by a provident nature, to support the heavy ceilings of the grotto incrusted by thousands of tons of gold and silver wire and ingots wrought into
the most fantastic shapes. Besides the incalculable treasures, this vast cave contains chambers and domes of the most grotesque architectural designs, marvellous avenues and little lakes, the latter alive with fish of every color of the rainbow, a gorgeous and indescribable sight, indeed. This all reads like an improbable tale, but Grant vows that his statement is one of absolute veracity, from Alpha to Omega. One of the most unaccountable features about this cave is the unnatural light at night, which, Grant says, is not phosphorescent (he being somewhat of a scientist), and the unheard of and impenetrable darkness during the day. Grant asserts that there are millions upon millions of pure gold and silver in that vault, and he means to share them with those who have been kind to him in bygone days. He is now en route for Louisville, Ky., and has with him several hundred pounds of gold taken from the cave, to seek out some of his old friends, whom he will bring out here as early as possible.
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It was to be taken for granted that the English would find it convenient to make much just now of the Treaty of Paris—albeit the Marquis of Salisbury a year ago spoke quite lightly of that document. Indeed, the Conservative press of England will hear of nothing else but the Treaty of Paris. The Pall Mall Gazette even goes so far as to say, with all gravity, that “the facts that Russia and Turkey have been at war, and that Russia has got the better of Turkey, are quite irrelevant to the coming deliberations.” These trivial circumstances, it proceeds to say, “cannot affect the conclusion which, upon a consideration of their own interests and of the general interests of Europe, may be arrived at by Austria, Great Britain, France, Germany and Italy, when assembled by their representatives to sit in judgment on what in fact will be requests by Russia and Turkey to be relieved from engagements to which they are at present firmly bound by the most solemn obligations which States can incur.” That is to say, the war with its tremendous sacrifices of millions of dollars and thousands of lives is to be regarded as if it had not been, and Russia is to gain nothing as the outcome of all her achievements and successes. She is to enter the Conference on precisely the same terms as if she had fought no battles and won no victories—these facts are “quite irrelevant.” The other powers, who yielded, point by point, to Turkey in the preliminary conference of a year ago, and who retired from the work of enforcing their demands, after a weak exchange of idle threats, are to sit as judges upon Russia’s claims, and to be blindly oblivious to the events of the past year.
The absurdity of the expectation that the Treaty of Paris will be taken as the test by which to accept or reject the Russian propositions is apparent when we consider that nearly all the terms of peace would be immediately negatived by the terms of the treaty. Thus the first of the Russian conditions is that Bulgaria, within the limits of the Bulgarian nationality, shall be an autonomous tributary principality; and subsequent conditions require practically the same for Bosnia and Herzegovina. But the Treaty of Paris guarantees both the “territorial integrity” and the “independence” of the Ottoman Empire. Russia requires the independence of Roumania and Servia. But the Treaty of Paris declares that “the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia” (i. e. the present Roumania) “shall continue to enjoy, under the suzerainty of the Porte and under the guarantee of the contracting Powers, the privileges and immunities of which they are in possession.” Russia seeks the retrocession of Bessarabia; but the treaty stipulates that Bessarabia “shall be annexed to the Principality of Moldavia, under the suzerainty of the Sublime Porte.” As to Servia, it is provided that “the Principality of Servia shall continue to hold of the Sublime Porte.” As to the passage of the Dardanelles, a Convention signed by the Sultan, and made an integral part of the Treaty, declares that “he is firmly resolved to maintain for the future the principle invariably established as the ancient rule of his Empire, in virtue of which it has at all times been prohibited for the ships of war of foreign Powers to enter the Straits of the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus; and that, so long as the Porte is at peace his Majesty will admit no foreign ship of war into the said Straits.” The Treaty of 1871, in which Russia secured the concession of the provisions for the “neutralization” of the Black Sea, reaffirmed the provision relating to the Dardanelles, and declared that “the principle of the closing of the Straits—such as it has been established by the separate Convention of March 30, 1856, is maintained.” Tested by the Treaty of Paris, therefore, all that is left of the Russian terms of peace is the independence of Montenegro, the Treaty being silent with regard to Montenegro; and the claim for a money indemnity, which, in Turkey’s impoverished condition, would not be worth a great deal.
Unless the English Conservatives crave the reputation of Bourbons, capable neither of learning nor forgetting, they will scarcely attempt to compel Russia, in the hour of her victory, to accept the same conditions which were granted her in her time of adversity, twenty-two years ago. The position of all the Powers has changed since then. Germany has become the dominant force in European politics; France has been enfeebled by heavy losses; the military prestige of Great Britain is not what it was; and Russia has developed immensely in material and military resources. The Treaty of Paris can have no more power than a blank piece of parchment to stay the progress of events. England herself has not been so scrupulous in regard to treaty observances that she can afford to stand as the champion of strict interpretation. Doubtless, some of the demands of Russia may be modified—and the vagueness of their phraseology leaves ample room for change. But to suppose that she is to yield everything, and to accept the position in which she was left in 1856 is going quite too far; and whatever else happens it may be regarded as certain that the Treaty of Paris will be swept away, and that Russia will be accorded the position which her prowess has won.
Editor's notes