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.
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