The Mojave Heathen by Robert F. Clifton (book recommendations website txt) 📕

remains or other ancient humans and artifacts could be found there? To his surprise, he learned that Devonian rock formations existed in the Catskill Mountains, the Appalachian Highlands, and the Rocky Mountains. Ben decided to begin his research first in the Catskills. However, although there were those that listened to him, nodded their heads in agreement to his theory, none offered or came forward with the necessary finances. Now, he sat with his money running out and no backing for the research he wished to pursue. The only offer he had that would allow him to remain in his chosen profession was to teach. Teaching meant being confined to the classroom for days, weeks, months and probably years at a time. It was something he really didn’t want to do.

Returning to his apartment Cortland put away his groceries. Then, with the refrigerator door open stared at two slices of cold pizza. They would be his supper that evening, reheated in the microwave. He closed the door and walked into the room and sat down at his desk. After closing his eyes and in deep thought tried to decide if he really wanted to read the journal again. Opening his eyes he reached for it again and slid it across the desktop, pulling it towards him.

Before opening Chester Hopkins manuscript Ben sat and refreshed his memory. He eliminated small incidentals, such as, the heat and cold of the desert, the need to hunt for game. Instead, he concentrated on two things. The first was the long, flash of lightning and the loud clap of thunder. The second was the mention of the smell of spent gunpowder. Ben theorized that it was in all probability what Hopkins heard and possibly saw was a burning meteor entering the atmosphere. The fireball, created as the meteor streaked across the sky allowed for what Hopkins described as a long, streak of lightning. The loud clap of thunder was the result of the meteor breaking the sound barrier. Satisfied with that concept Ben still could not come up with a conclusion on the smell of burnt gunpowder that Hopkins recorded.

Cortland opened the journal and turned to the place he had saved and Began to read. Tuesday, November 13, 1849. Went to diggings today. Found two nice nuggets. Also came across some type of metal. Can’t seem to identify it. Not iron nor steel. It be light to hold. No weight. Piece approximately eight by six inches. Silver in color. Feels warm to the touch.

Will take it into town when I go and show it around. Hopefully, someone can identify it.

Ben picked up a ballpoint pen and wrote notes referring to the metal mentioned in Hopkins writings. He turned the page.

Wednesday, November 14, 1849. Woke up last night had to piss. Lit the lantern so not to fall Noticed strange light coming out of my nugget stash. Looked inside found that piece of metal I found glows in the dark. Never saw anything like it in my life. It probably be worth a small fortune.

Ben continued to read turning page after page, but not learning anything of interest. Then. near the end of the manuscript, he came across writings that perked his professional curiosity. Tuesday, November 27, 1849. Been sick last few days. Vomiting might be from bad squirrel meat. Went to diggings started to work removed several yards of rock and soil. Stopped work when I uncovered the dead body of a heathen. Never saw anything or anyone that looked like the heathen. Afraid that I might have disturbed a native burial site and covered up the heathen again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Hopkins Site

 

At approximately ten AM on a Tuesday, morning Ben Cortland stood in front of the bathroom mirror as he shaved the

overnight, growth of whiskers from his face. He was interrupted by the sound of the ringing telephone. Placing the razor on top of the vanity he made his way to the adjoining master bedroom and picked up the receiver from the extension. “Hello”, he said.

“Good morning. What are you doing?”, asked Edith Shipley.

“As a matter of fact, I was shaving. You’re up early. By my bedroom clock it’s seven o’clock out there.”

“I’m an early riser. Ben, I’m calling to see if you have finished reading the journal.”

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“Well, what do you think?”, she asked.

“Think? Well, I think he found something. Exactly what he found I have no idea at this time.”

“Really? Hopkins mentioned the word, heathen. I believe that was a term used back then when referring to Native Americans. Don’t you think that he uncovered the dead body of

someone, someone who might have been a member of the Timbishe Tribe or possibly Paleo- Indian.”

“It’s a possibility,” Cortland replied.

“And, a good one. I’m surprised at you Ben. By now I thought you would be jumping at the chance to investigate, research and study in your chosen field.”

“Edith. Naturally I’m interested. Nonetheless there are many factors that stand in the way.”

“Such as?”, she asked.

“Such as, where was Hopkins in death Valley? The area is three thousand square miles. Where did he enter? Where did he leave? Did he use Nevada or California to get into and out of the valley? You can see the problem.”

“Yes, I understand where you’re coming from. However, I’m sure that with a bit of effort you could make a determination.”

“Thanks for you confidence. There are also other problems.”

“And they are?”

“First of all finances.”

“I believe I can raise the necessary funding for a dig.”

“How so?”

“I happen to know an amateur archeologist who is filthy

rich and would just love to pay in order to be included.”

“Then, there’s manpower.”

“I can supply students of mine who like the rich guy would love to work on a dig site.”

“It appears that you have all of the answers.”

“Only to some that you have mentioned. If we’re going to research Chester Hopkins possible finding of a Native American

body back in the year 1849, then you have to come up with where do we place our shovel?”

“Persistent aren’t you?”

“You should know that about me by now. Ben, as a friend, I’m practically begging you, don’t pass up this chance. It’s a chance to find what you have been looking for all of your professional life.”

“Tell you what I’ll do. Let me read again Hopkins journal.

It is possible that with a bit of self discipline I might, just might

figure out where the old prospector set up his camp and where he worked.”

“Excellent. Call me when you have something. Meanwhile I’ll dangle the possibility of an archeological dig in my rich friends face.”

“I never knew you were so devious.”

“Actually darling, I prefer the word, cleaver. Call me.”

Ben heard the disconnect and returned the receiver to the telephone cradle. He walked back into the bathroom, wet and lathered his face again and finished shaving.

Later, Ben sat gazing at this desk top computer monitor.

On the screen was a light, purple and green map of Death Valley.

The green color represented the valley while the purple indicated the States of Nevada and California. As he sat looking his mind began producing subjective answers, answers that he forced himself to reject. Then he decided to concentrate on the obvious.

He knew that Hopkins had mentioned seeing Indians on the horizon, believing that those he saw were women, referring to them as Shoshone.

“If he believed the women to be Shoshone, then what he saw in actuality were Timbisha, or Panamint Shoshone.

The year was 1849. At that time the main members of the tribe lived in or about Furnace Creek. They left that area only in the heat of summer, moving into the mountains where it was much cooler, Hmmm! I see a problem. To dig in the Furnace Creek area today the Parks, Hamony Borax Works now preserved, might object to our presence and at the same time might have already destroyed what we’re looking for. Right now it’s a historical site. Still, we’re going to need permission to enter and dig on government property.

“I’m now convinced that Chester Hopkins entered

Death Valley from Nevada since Furnace Creek and the Funeral Mountains are near the Nevada border. From his journal we know that he found gold. The assumption is that he found it in rock

formations. However, we are presented with the fact that in the same area lies Tucki Mountain. In which one did he strike it rich?

This is important, because he mentions returning to his dig and there uncovers the body of what he referred to as a heathen. When using the map I come to the conclusion that Tucki Mountain and the Funeral Mountains are approximately twenty five to thirty miles apart.

Although Hopkins complained about dwindling food supplies he never complained about the lack of water. Therefore,

it’s possible that he camped and worked near or beside a water source. When looking at the map again we see that water is closer to the Funeral Mountains then it is to Tucki Mountain. At the same time Hopkins coming into the valley from Nevada, might never had known about the existence of Tucki Mountain. On the night he heard the loud, clap of thunder and the long streak of lightning he mentioned looking towards possibly the creek and then the mountains.

Taking everything into consideration I’m convinced that Chester Hopkins camped, lived and worked at the base of or into the Funeral Mountains. The question now remains, do I want to go there?” he thought to himself.

 

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Ben Cortland unlocked the door that led into his apartment. As it was now near the end of July the summer heat

had raised the temperature in the flat and he felt the extreme heat when he entered. He stopped in the hallway and looked at the temperature reading on the thermostat. It read 82 degrees.

He lowered the setting to seventy-five and turned on, COOL.

Taking a seat in his living room he re-thought the events of the morning. He had met with the Department Head who would have the final say on his receiving the professorship in the Anthropology Section at the university. Things went well until

Cortland refused to relent on his position of believing in the Multi-Regional concept that man did not necessarily evolve and traveled out of Africa and into the rest of the known world. Instead, he theorized that man originated in various places in the world at about or in the same time period. These convictions were enough for him to be told, “Thank you. We will let you know of our decision. Thank you for coming in for this meeting.”

These words were enough for Ben to realize that the position at the university was lost. “There is another way to look at this. This might be preordained. It just may be that I’m meant to investigate Chester Hopkins prospecting site and possibly find the evidence of Paleo Indians,” he thought to himself.

After getting up out of the living room chair he walked to the desk, sat down, reached for the telephone and remembering now her number dialed Edith’s telephone. It rang five times, then a recorded message came on line. He left a message telling her to call hm when she was free.

At approximately seven fifteen, Eastern Daylight Time,

Ben answered his ringing telephone and heard Edith Shipley’s voice. “I think I’m ready to get my hands dirty again providing you can handle two things,” he said.

“What two things?”

“Financial backing and the permit to dig in a National Park.”

“Financing is easy. I told you why. The permit? Well, right now the only possible way that I can see a way to get it is through my university. That means that as a member of the university faculty I would the person in charge. The reason being of course that if anything should go wrong, such as damage to the park property the university would be subjected to legal action. Do you have any reservations about me being the head of the project?.” she asked.

“No, of course not. Tell me more about you financial backer.”

“His name is George Bingham.