This legend and others were given me in the summer of 1922 by Mr.
Whitley, a small ranchman of McMullen County. At that time, he was more
than seventy years old, though he was still an eager and agile
horseman. From his front gallery one could see the San Caja Mountain,
which his land ran against. We began talking on the subject of buried
treasure a little after dark, and it was long after midnight before he
suggested that we “unroll our blankets.” When I think of the place, the
time, the man, his tones—the whole environment in which these as well
as other legends were told, I realize that the most faithful
transcription of the words can give hardly more than a shadow of the
original effect.
“When I was a young man I got to know an old, old Mexican at Refugio,
who had been raised by the Indians. His name was Benito. They had
captured him down in the Rio Grande country when he was a boy and taken
him north with them. In those days the Indians were friendly with the
Mexicans at San Antonio, and every year they would come down from the
upper country and trade, but when they got in the vicinity of the San
Antonio settlement they always hid their Mexican captive, keeping him
back with the squaws.
“The main thing that these Indians brought in to trade off to the
Mexicans and Spanish was silver and lead. Benito said he knew that they
were getting it from somewhere about the head of the Frio, but for
years did not know just where, for he was never allowed to go to the
mine. The attempts of Mexican prospectors to get on to the whereabouts
of the mineral made the Indians very particular. Finally, though, they
trusted their captive with the location. He found that there was a vein
of ore. It seemed to be a lead and silver compound almost solid. From
it the Indians simply chopped off bars to be used in trading or in
moulding bullets.
“Now, as old Benito used to tell, after he was grown he slipped away
from the Indians, and with two or three Mexicans that he took in as
partners went back and tried to get the ore himself. The Indians got on
his trail, though, and killed his companions before the party ever got
to the ore. He alone escaped, and for years and years he was afraid to
go back.
“When I knew him he was over a hundred years old, I am pretty sure, and
he would tell me often about the rich silver vein. I wanted to go in
search of it, and he thought that he could make the trip in spite of
his feebleness if we fixed it so that he could ride in a hack. He knew
that he could find the mine if he ever got up the Frio Canyon, but he
would not go unless a good-sized party went. He said that he would pick
six Mexicans to go and that I could pick six white men.
“Well, we got everything about ready, wagons, provisions, and so forth,
when the man in our party who was bearing most of the fitting-out
expense up and took down sick. So we naturally had to put the trip off.
The man got well, and a while after that we got ready to go again. But
luck seemed to be against us, and the old Mexican guide was taken down.
It was out of the question for him to go. He was dying. He gave us,
though, the clearest directions he could and thought that we could
follow them. From what he said, the vein of silver could not be got to
horseback. It was in the south bank of one of three arroyos that ran
into the Frio close together. At it the creek made a sharp turn, and a
man would have to get down and go afoot along the bank. No doubt it was
concealed, for the Indians always covered it up well after they had
hacked off what they wanted. The old Mexican said that if he could only
get one sight of the lay of the land, he could tell which one of the
three arroyos the vein was in. But he never got that sight; so he gave
the best way-bill he could and died.
“The treasure hunting party broke up and things rocked along for years
without me doing anything. Meanwhile a brother-in-law of mine had moved
into the upper Frio country. I decided to go up and visit him and my
sister, and to find the ore at the same time. I took my dogs along, and
the first thing we struck the very first morning that we rode out to
look up those three creeks was a bear. Well, sir, I got to hunting
bear, and we never did get to hunting that silver, and to this day I
know good and well that if I had left my dogs at home, I’d a had it.
“I say I know, because my brother-in-law found it after I left. I gave
him the directions and he agreed to notify me if he made the find.
Well, he made it and was leaving his place to come down the country to
tell me, when he was murdered in cold blood. But that is another
matter. He had confided to his wife about finding the silver and told
her the purpose of his trip, warning her not to tell anybody. Of
course, after his death she told me all that she knew; he had never
told her, though, where he had located the vein.
“You see I have known two living witnesses to that treasure. There is
enough of it to make anybody rich. If I just had time, I believe that I
could go and find it yet.”