LEGEND has it....There is this Eagle. A magnificent eagle.
Privlaged some are to have captured a glimce of this ledgend, a legend that soars above many, and who
Captures what ever he wishes.
Such a legend, has been talked about quite extensively in, Quebec. Some have coined the phrase the silver eagle, while others claim he is pure and golden.
Apparently, there is but one man who swears by his words, claiming he's seen the eagle, more than any other. Ole gieezer La Salle, a one man bandit miner, who lives up in the hills. I decided to visit Mr. La Salle, as he regularly visits the only watering hole, in the little village town, below the Nuggrt mountain, at none other than the, Gold Pan Saloon.
Mr. La Salle, is at least pushing 80 yrs old, I surmised, as I drew near the Saloon's alley length bar, gazing at his tattered cloths, that seemed to shimmer and gleam with hues of gold dust.
As he sat slunched at bar, alone... I couldnt help but stare inquisitively, seeing his weather worn face, look it was as if, as if the sun dried his skin to that of sinue chewed, leather.
Which only gave hint and clue, it was he, Mr. La Salle, a rugged old man, who'd spent his entire life time, trying to find gold. As i drew near the Saloon counter, Mr. LA Salle, still swift with ears, turns to greet me. Our intro was rather brief, s Mr. LA Salle, was noticebly , few of words, which indicated I had better be careful, what I asked, and how it was asked.
Mr. La Salle, so pleased to meet with you. Mr. LA Salle, nodded, then swigged his glass ofj whiskey, which appeared to have, at least 5 full ounzes.
With not much of a response, I let loose a few trigger words... Eagle, silver, gold.... And thats when Mr. LA Salle's eyes lit up.
Yes.... That dastard dang bird, gotra love him. Oh, he's good! He's real....good. Mr. La Salle murrmurred , then faded to a stare.
You know of this eagle? Have you seen the famed eagle? I asked with a big smile, hoping to, fish a few more words from the ole miner.
What da ya mean, have i seen him?
Are ya saying, I haven't?
Ya calling me a liar, sonny?
You think, I see things up in those mountains, that arent der?
Mr. LA Salle said in a defensive tone, polishing off the last of his whiskey, then with a jerk of his crooked arm, wiped his mouth and beard halfhazzarly.
Oh, no, no, no..... I, uhm... I meant...
My mind went blank...
Sonny, iza telling ya...I've must have seen that damn eagle, at least 500 times. Pay dirt, eagle. Yeah... That's my pay dirt eagle.
Mr. LA Salle exclaimed and then continued...
That dang eagle seems to know when im running low on gold... makes his presence known just at the right time, every time. Circling, and circling, round and around, high above my head. Its like the dang thing, is signaling me, letting me know where to find my next load of gold.
You dont say? I replied, while shifting my foot upon the bar foot stool, gesturing a stance, of friendship.. But, Mr. La Salle's response was as expected.
What's the matter with you?
I do say.
I just dang and went and told ya so!
Pay attention, sonny. You young-ins -'thinking ya know so much.
Sudenly, Mr. La Salle, threw his arms in the air, and with each hand looking like fierce claws, he snarled and growled....
Startled with his abrupt characture, I naievly asked, does the bird sound like that?
No ya damn dummy,.. What's the matter with you?
Don't you know I'm telling ya a story, making it interesting?
About then, I stood back a foot or two, as Mr. La Salle, jumped from his chair, and began eying me up, and down.
Not a word was spoken. I didn't dare, flinch or twitch, for fear of up setting him more.
It was evident Mr. La Salle could see i was in a state of fear, evident by the look upon my face, an expression which strained to keep a smile, but could not.
There was no escaping his pale grey eyes, eyes that questioned another's loyalty, whether you were a friend or foe.
Convinced I was still a friend, Mr.. La Salle, proceeded with his story, as if nothing ever was sour between us.
Sony, that der eagle is big, i say, bigger dan any bird ive ever seen. Frightening, when you do first lay eyes on ths feathery critter. Powerful bird ya know. Why ive seem him scoop a 30 pound salmon out of that der river, like it was a Minnow.
To show Mr. La Salle he still has my interest, I raise my brows high, matching his every word, hoping he reveals all the more ...
Dat bird.... oh he knows, he always knows, but I don't know how that critter knows.
Mr. La Salle, what ever do you mean, the bird knows?
What da ya think i mean, young lad? The dang bird knows when I'm outta gold.
I'll be sitting der on the hillside, all tuckered from a digging, and a swigging. And outta nowhere that bird shows up. High, so high up in the sky, the first thing I'll see, is his claws...
Why dat eagle has one talon made of silver the other of gold. And when the sun shines in that oh so particular way, why that big ole birds talons made of silver and gold, reflects and points me where to go, for my next loade, along the mountainside.
I simply wet me thumb and take a bead and bearing - why that eagle has never let me down, he always finds me my motherlode.
I smile, watching Mr. La Salle, savor his memories, and without realizing, i murmur in my own reflective thoughts, yeah, sounds like another bird many know, with the same silver and gold talons.
What's that you say, sonny? You say ders two of dees eagles?
Well, uhmm?
Spit it out, young lad, lets here what ya have to say.
Well, what I meant was... How can I out this?
You see Mr. LA Salle, there's this other whose just like your legend eagle, yes, swift, clever, and as well has one talon of silver the other made of gold.
And, yes... This other always finds the motherlodes -
Does dis udder eagle have a name?
Why yes, yes he does.
Well, sonny, let's hear it, now out with it, my ears are itching.
Gold and silver is his game, but most know him by the name,, Sprott.
Have a lil, chuckle.
Wango~