CHAPTER XXXVI
THE BRETHREN AT RHYOLITE
The summer of 1903 witnessed what would today be termed a slump in mining activities in and around Tonopah. This condition was not, however, due to any scarcity of ore production; indeed, the quantity and value had increased as the depth of the mines increased; the slump was due, rather, to lack of transportation facilities. The only method of delivering the ore to the nearest smelter which was at Sodaville, was by wagon and horse, or mule power, with the result that in the freighting charges and smelter service, such an excessive rate was developed that to mine and deliver any ore under $40.00 per ton spelled disaster. Then too, the influx of men and women had raised the population of the camp to several thousand souls, and although it was not realized, Tonopah had a real unemployment problem to dispose of.
The result was inevitable; the real miners and prospectors who had flocked to the camp, realizing that there was no immediate relief in sight in the way of employment, begged, borrowed or purloined a grub stake, and although meagerly equipped to brave the dangers and hardships of the desert, sallied forth into what to them was new territory, in search of fortune. And some of them were to make good for, as a result of this exodus, Bullfrog, Fairview, Greenwater, Rawhide, Rhyolite and Searchlight, as well as other mining camps, sprang into existence, enjoyed a mushroom growth, yielded in some instances their millions, and then ceased to be, living in memory only, and in some instances, the saddened experience of their promoters and investors.
One of the most promising as well as exciting of these discoveries, was that of Bullfrog, up in the north end of Death Valley, the first location of which was made by "Shorty" (Frank) Harris, and Ernie Cross, in the early part of August, 1904.
As news of the strike was heralded far and wide, scores of prospectors, miners and gamblers hurried to the scene. A tent city sprang up almost over night, and groceries, merchandise, liquor and other supplies were dispensed across rudely constructed bars and counters.
As lumber supplies were hauled in from Goldfield, some seventy-five miles north, a few flimsy shacks were thrown together and the actual forming of a town began. But Bullfrog was destined to an early decline in its boom, for within the space of six months time, Rob Montgomery is said to have shipped between 30 and 40 tons of ore which assayed more than $500.00 to the ton, from a mine known as The Shoshone, lying between three or four miles to the south of Bullfrog.
The rumor also persisted that Montgomery had been offered around one million dollars for the property, with the result that the camp of Rhyolite sprang into existence under the manipulation of the Rush boys.
By October of the same year, the Bullfrog Mining Company of Nevada was organized to operate in and around the new town of Rhyolite, with Tasker Oddie as president, and Key Pittman a director on the board.
The assets of the company consisted of one million shares of stock, and between thirty and thirty-five thousand dollars subscribed to promote their property.
From the date of the founding of Rhyolite, the camp gave promise of a bright mining and commercial future. In the first place, its inhabitants were progressive and public spirited. In the next place, an ample water supply from Beatty Springs close at hand insured comfort, protection and a sufficient yield for all mining purposes. And so, an era of intensive building began, for the ore supply seemed sufficient to warrant building upon firm as well as extravagant lines. Eastern as well as western capital became interested, and such financiers as Senator W. A. Clark of Montana, John McKane, Chas. M. Schwab, John Brock and others are said to have invested heavily in undeveloped property. The Southern Hotel, a really modern hostelry, reared its two stories proudly in the air, and when Senator Clark announced his intention to construct a railroad to Bullfrog, heading out of Las Vegas, the permanency of the camp seemed assured, and a real building boom was on. Real stone buildings rose under the new impetus engendered by the good will and confidence of the money kings.
Within a short time after the announcement by Senator Clark of his intention to build a railroad into the Bullfrog district, another railroad project headed by Borax Smith tapping the Santa Fe R. R. was projected, its object being to complete its line before the L. V. & T. R. R. or Clark's road could lay its line into the district.
With the formation of this new camp, and the gathering of more than seven thousand people in its environs, came the advance guards of Masonry, coming from almost every point of the compass, and representing many jurisdictions.
The urge to organize the fraternity was strong, and as the opportunity permitted, the brethren would meet to discuss the feasibility of applying for a charter; but the district was not as yet proven as a mining district of merit and, although the outlook was bright and encouraging, it was deemed prudent to delay their request for a dispensation from the Grand Lodge until such a time as the camp might prove its claim to permanency.
However, the desire for Masonic union in the new settlement was strong among the brethren, with the result that until the camp had been tried and tested as a mineral producer, it was determined to organize a Masonic club, which should eventually be merged into an active Masonic lodge. That the project was finally launched and became a fraternal reality, is evidenced by a paragraph appearing in the report of Most Worshipful Robert Lewers at the close of his term in office for the year 1907-1908, as follows: "In Rhyolite, I visited the Masonic Club and found a neat and comfortable reading room, and was delighted with the cozy resting place provided for the brethren. While I would rather see a lodge in every place capable of supporting one, and believe that Masonic Clubs have some real difficulty in what I may term general tiling, as they have no power to examine visitors, I am inclined to think they accomplish much good, and that they are for the best. There is a transitory period in the life of every mining town when it is uncertain whether it is to be, or not to be, and during this time, such a club as the one at Rhyolite is the best for the purpose."
For a period of approximately two years the Masonic Club at Rhyolite was a fraternal as well as a social factor in that embryonic bonanza camp. Under the guidance of a competent committee, and officered by zealous and active Masons, it became a veritable haven of rest for the sojourning brethren, dispensed its self imposed charity, contributed to the relief of the worthy distressed brethren, and withal, performed the offices of any well regulated lodge, except that its charities and benevolences were purely voluntary, and that it did this sort of work unauthorized by the Grand Lodge of Nevada.
That the usual complement of mining camp riffraff found its way into Rhyolite was to be expected. While it was not as obtrusive, nor was crime as rampant there as it had been in some of the other earlier mining camps in the state, yet the usual gathering of the rougher element was present. However, the reign of these undesirables came to an early end along with the passing of the throng, and the moulder and decay which follows in the wake of a deserted district. Unknown to the citizens of Rhyolite, the transition period in its existence had arrived, the days of the camp were numbered. But, unmindful of this decree of fate, the desert city proceeded with its extravagances, with its debaucheries, with its gambling and drinking, with its era of licentiousness. Investments in undeveloped territory continued; noted financiers came and went, and in leaving left behind them an ownership in some claim or claims decreed by late as well as by nature, to remain as a monument to their credulity.
Then came, as to Nebuchadnezzar, the handwriting on the wall. At first a stunned incredulity seized upon the residents, and then, as the undeniable truth dawned upon them, as expert mining engineers became convinced that the ore supply was exhausted, despair overwhelmed them, and the exodus began. Merchant and dealer, broker and banker, lawyer and doctor, packed bag and baggage and departed for other fields leaving behind them fine homes and business houses erected in expectation of enjoying a life of ease when fortune should come from their investments in the aforetime promising bonanza mines in the district.
With the collapse of the mining districts of Bullfrog, Beatty and Rhyolite, so also Masonry folded its tent and moved to other fields.
The Masonic Club, once so prosperous, was dispersed to the four points of the compass, its membership drifting to lodges in Las Vegas, Tonopah, Goldfield and Searchlight, and across the border into California, while some took the eastern trail, and returned to the place from which they originally came.
But, although scattered and dispersed, who shall say that its social as well as fraternal accomplishments were not a stabilizing factor in the turbulent but brief existence of the town which gave it birth, for the twofold precepts it represented in Masonry: the brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of God, shall ever continue as it did then, to silently repeat and reflect each other throughout the course of time, forming the basis of the practice of charity and forbearance, and through faith looking towards a happier existence in the Great Beyond; the one to be written in letters of gold above the doors of our Institution, a beacon to the novitiate who seeks refuge within our folds, the other to be traced in letters of living fire over beyond the portals of the Hereafter, a guide to life Everlasting.
FINIS
Today, Rhyolite is but a memory of a former grandeur, a graveyard of perished hopes and ambitions. It is one of the real ghost cities of the west.
The old depot, built after Spanish architectural design, which would have been a credit to any community, still stands, although shorn of: much of its onetime dignity; it has become the home of a family of prospectors, the railroad which it served has long since disappeared; it is said that rails were sold to Russia during the world war, at a price far in excess of its original cost.
The old bottle house built of beer bottles laid in cement is also in good condition, and is noted not only as a state landmark, but is of national repute as an object of interest to the tourist.