A House Built On Rocks

By William Daugherty in 1891

Reese River near Austin, Nevada, courtesy Wikipedia.

Reese River near Austin, Nevada, courtesy Wikipedia.

“Talk about hard times,” said a Reese River pioneer, “why, you ain’t in it,” and stroking his beard he gave his experience in the winter of 1864-65; and, with the exception of some embellishments not pertinent to the present times, the story ran about as follows: He and two comrades went to Austin, Nevada in the spring of 1864 and spent what money they had in prospecting during that summer and fall, and when winter set in, it found the party waiting like Micawber, for none of their locations had proved to be productive, and there had been no income to enable them to replenish their stores of provisions. As the winter advanced, rations grew short, and they were sorely perplexed as to the final outcome. They were all industrious fellows and good workers when work was to be had. But, this was an exceptional time, for the town was crowded with idle men, and work could not be obtained.

Flour was $30.00 a hundred and all provisions were on the same scale of prices and credit was out of the question. It was, in reality, famine to a great many honest men, and “beans straight” soon became a luxury. The three comrades occupied a dugout in the hillside, and it took, as they expressed it, some tall skirmishing to keep warm, with the snow four feet deep and frozen hard all around them. Each of them skirmished around during the day, with earnest efforts to obtain work, but the results continued the same, for each night found them in their hole in the wall, a little nearer the bottom of the bean sack, and with nothing encouraging for the morrow.

During the preceding fall, an enthusiastic preacher had asked for a number of miners to bond some of their locations to him, and let him go east to organize a company, and out of the proceeds, he would build a church. They, among others, had responded by donating some of their supposed worthless mining locations for the good cause, never, however, expecting a blessing to follow, and only taking a little temporary amusement out of the preacher’s words of thanks, which were to the effect that “the Lord loveth a good giver.”

Frontier Preacher, Christian Schussele, 1862

Frontier Preacher, Christian Schussele, 1862

During the hard winter, and on one of their darkest days, one of the trio was notified by the express agent in a confidential undertone that there was some money at the office for them, and merely awaited their proper identification. This was soon obtained, and to their great astonishment, they found that the sum reached the magnificent amount of $3,000, sent to them by the preacher for the mines bonded and almost forgotten. The money was in crisp new greenbacks, about the only kind that came from the east then, and was duly paid over to them at the express counter. The leader of the trio was made custodian of it while they filed out of the office and wended their way to the dug-out in the hillside with a great deal of caution, for the treasure seemed immense.

Upon arriving at the cabin, the door was closed and securely fastened, and one of them suggested that it be counted again to assure them that it was all correct. The chosen custodian spread it out and slowly counted over the crisp bills. His fingers were cold, and his nervous condition made it a slow task, especially because the other two had seated themselves on powder kegs, and lighting their pipes and crossing their legs were content in watching the precious pile. The count was finally finished and the custodian looking up said: “Well boys, it’s all here, what shall we do now?” expecting of course that they would suggest an immediate division; but to his surprise, one of the boys knocked the ashes out of his pipe on the chime of the powder keg, and with some deliberation said, “Boys, let’s pray.” With the money coming from the source it did, and the suggestion being made in such a serious manner, the situation seemed ludicrous, and a hearty laugh preceded a hearty feast in commemoration of their providential deliverance from the stress of threatened hunger. In due time the preacher returned, and out of the venture built of brick, the cozy little Methodist church that still stands as a monument of faith in the shire town of Lander County.

By William Daugherty, for the Reno Evening Gazette, February 20, 1891. Compiled and edited by Kathy Weiser/Legends of America, updated January 2021.

About the Author: Written by William Daugherty wrote for the Reno Evening Gazette in 1891. The Gazette was first published on October 12, 1876, and continued for the next 107 years. In 1977, it was merged with the Nevada State Journal and continues to exist today as the Reno Gazette-Journal.

Note: The article is not verbatim as spelling errors, minor grammatical changes, and editing have occurred for the ease of the modern reader.

Also See:

Pioneers on the Nevada Frontier (Reno Evening Gazette)

Tales of the Overland Stage (Reno Evening Gazette)

Nevada Mining Tales (Reno Evening Gazette)

Nevada – The Silver State