Pine Nuts: Digging for gold, shenanigans in Nevada
Submitted by Jeff Munson on Sun, 08/04/2024 - 5:55pm
I love Nevada. Don’t you? Our motto? “I’ll keep my nose out of your business if you’ll keep your nose out of mine.” Facebook? While giving due credit to Brooklyn for a Nevada shoutout to Facebook, it sounds something like this: “Fuhgeddaboudit!”
Yes, along with being fiercely private, we happen to be the only state in the Union that remains active in gold digging, and I’m not talking about Las Vegas, where, yes, the word, “book” is a verb.
Fact is, I’m going to spend this coming Sunday rooting around for treasure in Carson City. Inspired by an article I found in the Library of Congress, I shall spend my day digging near the prison, for according to the article, a Wells Fargo Stagecoach was held up in Empire City back in 1864, where it was relieved of its 300-pound strongbox full of gold destined for the Carson City Mint. The driver of that stagecoach, William Manners, raced his team of horses one mile into Carson, where he organized a posse.
That posse ran down three of the desperados, shot them dead, and a fourth, Manuel Gonzales, was sent to Nevada Territorial Prison, where he could be found staring out his window day after day, lamenting to his fellow inmates, “I can see that treasure from here.”
Well, Empire City is no longer here, but the prison sits right where it was in 1864, so given what little time they had to bury the box, a surveyor would not need a Gunter’s chain to eyeball where that treasure must be hidden.
Some say it’s in that mound close to the prison, where one will sometimes see off-duty guards digging around, as word of the gold’s possible whereabouts gets passed along from generation to generation. But I have a new theory. Those desperados were on their way to Mound House to purchase a brothel or two.
I reckon they got tired along the way and emptied that strong box onto the ground, split the treasure four ways, and each made his own way to Mound House, or buried his portion of the bullion where he saw fit, leaving us a few more chances to find that gold. They did not have time to go far, or dig deep, so that treasure is still right there for the taking.
When Manuel Gonzales was released eight years later, he was shadowed by lawmen and treasure hunters alike, and died before getting his hands again on that ill-gotten gold.
So should we happen upon a portion of that treasure this Sunday, we will give it back to Wells Fargo, of course, and too, we shall stop at the Fox to celebrate that find on our way home.
Don’t you just love Nevada? Me too. I would sing a verse of “Home Means Nevada” to you, but a friend once told me, “McAvoy, those who criticize your writing never heard you sing.”
— For more than 30 years, in over 4,000 performances, columnist and Chautauquan McAvoy Layne has been dedicated to preserving the wit and wisdom of “The Wild Humorist of the Pacific Slope,” Mark Twain. As Layne puts it: “It’s like being a Monday through Friday preacher, whose sermon, though not reverently pious, is fervently American."
Want to hear McAvoy Layne tell it? Go here for an audio version of this column.
