A Fearful Fall

by Dave Rhodes

I was in California during Eighteen Fifty-One,

Selling beef to the placer miners up in the hills,

Riding from one mining settlement to another,

Taking orders for the next few week's meals.

The trail to one camp was narrow and steep.

I decided I would walk the balance of the climb,

So I tied my horse up close to the trail-side,

And footed it up the switch-backs to the mine,

Being careful not to stray far from the path,

Where a good many abandoned prospect holes sit,

And some with their windlasses still over them,

Which were used to pull up the fill from the pit.

I remember thinking how dangerous it could be

Leaving them uncovered as someone might fall down,

And if not killed, could not be heard by anyone,

Then die of starvation or thirst before being found.

I finally arrived at camp early in the afternoon

And was much pleased by what I was able to do.

I'd contracted beef each week for a couple of months,

Making a total of ten or twelve head sold to the crew.

By the time I finished up my business it was dusk.

I told the jolly group of miners I had better leave,

Some recommended I should stay the night,

But, I had left my horse tied where he could not feed.

So I said my thanks and goodbyes to the camp,

And figured I could find my way down just fine,

Although it had grown extremely dark by then,

I followed a well-beaten trail making good time.

When all at once I felt I was falling into a hole,

And grabbed wildly for whatever could be found!

I struck what I thought was a windlass frame,

And clung for dear life to that post in the ground!

But the wood I was holding on to was rotten,

And with my weight it almost broke in two.

At the least move I made it would start to crack,

And was almost pinching my hands clear through.

Now if you can just imagine the horrible thoughts

That ran riot all around and through my head.

How I should lie mangled at the bottom of this mine,

And how long till discovered if I were dead.

What would my wife and friends have to say

As to the cause of my mysterious disappearance?

Would they ever know what really happened to me?

"I must get out!", I cried, but there was just no chance.

Great beads of sweat came out all over me.

All my life's doing, good, bad and indifferent

Rushed through my mind at lightening speed,

Oh, the horror and agony of it all as it went!

My strength was going, I was losing my grip,

And as this last moment slowly began to unfold,

I commended my soul to the powers above,

Closed my eyes, and with a yell, let go my hold.

While I was falling everything went by in slow-motion,

As I anticipate hitting the bottom my body flinches,

But when I finally got there what a great surprise,

The fall that lasted so long, was only about six inches!

Inset at top: California placer miners.

Placer originally pronounced plathar by Mexicans and Californians, meaning a gravelly place where gold is found beside or in a stream.