Half a day can be well spent on the morrow in the mines, and
one is surprised to find
Here over half a mile of tunnels and shafts, with
workings on seven levels, and ore so rich that under usual conditions it
pays to mine, sort, pack on mules three miles or a little more to the rim,
place in wagons, haul some fifteen or twenty miles to Apex, load on railway
cars and ship - paying full freight, of course - about six hundred and eighty
miles to El Paso, Texas, where it is "milled," and the copper, silver and
gold extracted. These various processes are expensive. It costs to buy
grain in Flagstaff, or Phoenix, and pay freight on it to Apex, and then
haul it to the head of the trail, and thence to the stables on the plateau
near the mine. Hay, too, has to come just as far. Every pound of the
provisions used by the men has to be hauled in similar fashion over
railroad, wagon road and canyon trail. Every pick, shovel, piece of iron or
woodwork, every pound of powder, dynamite and fuse, every box of candles
has to pay toll in like fashion, before it can be used in the mine. So we
are not surprised to learn that the ore is rich, the first thousand tons
mined going as high as thirty percent in copper, with several ounces of
silver to the ton, and small but appreciable and valuable traces of gold.
(At the time of this writing, the mines are temporarily shut down.)
To the Old Hance Trail. The mouth of the mine enters the face of the cliff
to the east, and overlooks the trail down which we descend into Hance
Creek, where the old Hance Trail to the river used to be. It is an old
friend, for we have been down it more times than once, and can recall every
feature. We rest awhile here, in order to go down to the place where the
side canyon through which the creek flows "narrows up." We pass through,
and on the other side stand before the shattered Tonto sandstones that
Thomas Moran, years ago, named the Temple of Set, and even further on,
where we used to leave the horses and climb down a boulder, and up the face
of the cliff, and down the rope ladder over the archaean rocks - here a
crystalline mica schist - and so on, all the way to the river. So another
day passes, and we stretch out our blankets, and sleep on the very ledge on
which we bunked years and years ago, when we made our first descent and
camp in this canyon.
Red Canyon Trail. The next day we are ready to continue on to the west. We
climb out of Hance Canyon, and cross the ridge into Mineral Canyon, ascend
again, cross another ridge, and find ourselves in that wonderland of the
geologist, the Red Canyon Trail.
What do I mean by the Wonderland of the Geologist?
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