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Updated: May 10, 2025


Morgan," I asked abruptly, "do you know a place up there called Macarger's Gulch?" "I have good reason to," he replied; "it was I who gave to the newspapers, last year, the accounts of the finding of the skeleton there." I had not heard of it; the accounts had been published, it appeared, while I was absent in the East.

No one but an occasional enterprising hunter of the vicinity ever goes into Macarger's Gulch, and five miles away it is unknown, even by name. Within that distance in any direction are far more conspicuous topographical features without names, and one might try in vain to ascertain by local inquiry the origin of the name of this one.

One afternoon in the summer of 1874, I passed up Macarger's Gulch from the narrow valley into which it opens, by following the dry bed of the brook. I was quail-shooting and had made a bag of about a dozen birds by the time I had reached the house described, of whose existence I was until then unaware.

It is certain that the gulch was at one time pretty thoroughly prospected by miners, who must have had some means of getting in with at least pack animals carrying tools and supplies; their profits, apparently, were not such as would have justified any considerable outlay to connect Macarger's Gulch with any center of civilization enjoying the distinction of a sawmill.

The picture showed a dark man with an evil face made more forbidding by a long scar extending from near the temple diagonally downward into the black mustache. "By the way, Mr. Elderson," said my affable host, "may I know why you asked about 'Macarger's Gulch'?" "I lost a mule near there once," I replied, "and the mischance has has quite upset me." "My dear," said Mr.

About midway between the head and the mouth of Macarger's Gulch, the hill on the right as you ascend is cloven by another gulch, a short dry one, and at the junction of the two is a level space of two or three acres, and there a few years ago stood an old board house containing one small room.

North Westwardly from Indian Hill, about nine miles as the crow flies, is Macarger's Gulch. It is not much of a gulch a mere depression between two wooded ridges of inconsiderable height.

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