Yours Truly
Lucky Seven Revolver With Restord Handles
Present Day Photo of Cave
Photo of Cave Taken Aprox. Forty Years AgoHideout Cave
There is a place up stream from Moon Valley on the Niangua River where a deep hollow empties into the river from the south. It is a narrow hollow, more of a gulch or perhaps could be called a canyon. It is not an ideal locale to be, for the walls are steep and littered with stones and dead trees and in places the brush is near impenetrable. The hollow is cut deep with a gully where storm laden water has rushed unencumbered to the river for untold years. There are hidden dangers there in the quite solitude of this site, especially near the river. Copperhead Snakes and on occasion a Cottonmouth can be found, for many small creatures such as wood mice and rats and chipmunks thrive there, easy prey for any number of reptiles and other warm bloodied predators. A bluff, broken by the hollow follows the river, much of it is a majestic formation towering above the meandering stream.
Not far up the hollow is the remnant of a trail where a horse could be led safely down to the river and along the base of the bluff and even so it would be a precarious journey. This trail although faint and in places obscured with brush winds down from the top of the bluff past and around large boulders through old cedars and buck brush to the entrance of a stone overhang. At first glance the shelter appeared to be insignificant, too small for an extended family dwelling. The hole in the wall for all practical purposes is not a comfortable dwelling for a portion of it is damp. The most positive aspect of the overhang is the extreme seclusion, hidden from view by boulders.
In the autumn of 1982 I discovered the trail, a difficult task at best and while traversing it a thunderstorm overtook me and I began looking for cover when I stumbled onto the overhang. I sat for awhile smoking my pipe, watching two men in an aluminum flat bottom boat floating down the river, hunkered against the driving rain. Lightening flashed constantly overhead, with thunder crashing through the turbulence. The two men in the boat undaunted by the violent display slowly continued on down the river and soon passed from view.
No immediate let up in the storm seemed evident and I turned my attention to the interior of the shelter. The interior was about ten feet by fifteen feet with a ceiling of at least fifteen feet in height. The floor contained little to no soil and was strewn with stones. Fire blackened stones and wood ash lay near the outside and around the ash and stones and beyond into the interior lay several crock and stoneware shards, (present day material and later I was able to piece together three medium size bowls a small jug and pitcher.) Lying near the back wall was the rusted remains of a gray granite coffee pot.
Intrigued by the immediate discovery of the artifacts I dropped the backpack and slowly began a closer scrutiny of the shelter, convinced it would not reveal prehistory influence. Little had changed or so it appeared since the use of the artifact with exception of dust and rock debris.
Lying near the east wall I noted two rusted metal straps of about eight inches in length and an inch in width. Both straps appeared to have been cut haphazardly. The longest strap contained a screw or metal stud. I could find no markings on either strap.
Rain continued to fall and with time on my hands I decided to make a day of it and excavate the small shelter to try and determine what had transpired in the shelter. With a garden trowel I began raking the shallow dirt and stone debris into small piles and continued this until I had covered most of the floor. Then with a flashlight I began screening the piles starting with one near the entrance. It gave up two unspent twenty-two cartridges; several crock shards and a brass button used on overalls and the broken blade of a pocket knife. About midway in I discovered a horse or mule shoe and two unused shoeing nails and the rusted remains of a tin coffee cup.
In the meantime the rain had stopped and the sky cleared flooding the shelter with much welcomed light. I sat back and lit my pipe and poured a cup of coffee and inventoried the artifacts I had found in the piles of dirt and stones. There were eight twenty-two unfired cartridges, four spent cartridges, a horseshoe, two nails, coffee cup, two metal straps, a button and a short remnant of a bridle rein.
With most of the piles of dirt and stone recorded I decided to start at the rear wall of the shelter to look in every crook, cranny and ledge. With the added light it was easier now. My first discovery was a metal ring embedded in the wall about four feet from the floor and above it on a ledge lay a small seven shot twenty-two caliber revolver. It lay in mud, partial covered with grass tufts. The revolver was frozen in rust, the wooden handle long since decomposed. The weapon contained a short hexagon barrel and two spent cartridges. A Santa Fe brass railroad key lay behind the pistol and I would have been missed if I hadn’t scraped the ledge clean.
A thick bodied metal box of approximate eight inches high, twenty four inches long and twelve inches wide lay in a corner of the back wall, nearly covered in mud and gravel debris. The extent of the decomposition was near complete, a rusted hulk of metal. Two other metal straps were also noted and they too were nothing more than rust. A rusted tin frying pan and additional tin cup along with a short piece of copper tube completed the excavation with the exception of questionable items too badly decomposed or rusted to determine identity.
It is my assumption the railroad key, metal box and straps are an important aspect of the mystery or saga of the cave. The box may have contained currency taken in a robbery somewhere in the area around the turn of the century on or about the 1880’s or 90’s. (Note the following information is unrelated to the site. An acquaintance of mine discovered a safe in a hollow several miles away that had been blown open). The metal ring as far as I am concerned was used to tether horses. The story will remain a mystery I am sure, but is fuel for an imaginary story featuring the Lucky Seven Revolver as is now told in my third book, A Stranger in London Smoke.
The high back of McKee Ridge is scarred by an old county road that evolved from an Indian trace. The road begins east at Jones Crossing and meanders westward for possibly a mile across the ridge along the ruins and home places of early settlers to Highway K. It is said that Chief Black Hawk and his bandits frequented the road stealing unattended cattle and horses. A major portion of the vintage road has been invaded by brush and expanding plum thickets. Fireplace stones and remnants of farm machinery are all that is left of a time that dates back to the late 1700’s and early 1800’s. A secondary road veers off the main trace and follows the rim of the bluff for a half a mile or so. Adios
There is a place up stream from Moon Valley on the Niangua River where a deep hollow empties into the river from the south. It is a narrow hollow, more of a gulch or perhaps could be called a canyon. It is not an ideal locale to be, for the walls are steep and littered with stones and dead trees and in places the brush is near impenetrable. The hollow is cut deep with a gully where storm laden water has rushed unencumbered to the river for untold years. There are hidden dangers there in the quite solitude of this site, especially near the river. Copperhead Snakes and on occasion a Cottonmouth can be found, for many small creatures such as wood mice and rats and chipmunks thrive there, easy prey for any number of reptiles and other warm bloodied predators. A bluff, broken by the hollow follows the river, much of it is a majestic formation towering above the meandering stream.
Not far up the hollow is the remnant of a trail where a horse could be led safely down to the river and along the base of the bluff and even so it would be a precarious journey. This trail although faint and in places obscured with brush winds down from the top of the bluff past and around large boulders through old cedars and buck brush to the entrance of a stone overhang. At first glance the shelter appeared to be insignificant, too small for an extended family dwelling. The hole in the wall for all practical purposes is not a comfortable dwelling for a portion of it is damp. The most positive aspect of the overhang is the extreme seclusion, hidden from view by boulders.
In the autumn of 1982 I discovered the trail, a difficult task at best and while traversing it a thunderstorm overtook me and I began looking for cover when I stumbled onto the overhang. I sat for awhile smoking my pipe, watching two men in an aluminum flat bottom boat floating down the river, hunkered against the driving rain. Lightening flashed constantly overhead, with thunder crashing through the turbulence. The two men in the boat undaunted by the violent display slowly continued on down the river and soon passed from view.
No immediate let up in the storm seemed evident and I turned my attention to the interior of the shelter. The interior was about ten feet by fifteen feet with a ceiling of at least fifteen feet in height. The floor contained little to no soil and was strewn with stones. Fire blackened stones and wood ash lay near the outside and around the ash and stones and beyond into the interior lay several crock and stoneware shards, (present day material and later I was able to piece together three medium size bowls a small jug and pitcher.) Lying near the back wall was the rusted remains of a gray granite coffee pot.
Intrigued by the immediate discovery of the artifacts I dropped the backpack and slowly began a closer scrutiny of the shelter, convinced it would not reveal prehistory influence. Little had changed or so it appeared since the use of the artifact with exception of dust and rock debris.
Lying near the east wall I noted two rusted metal straps of about eight inches in length and an inch in width. Both straps appeared to have been cut haphazardly. The longest strap contained a screw or metal stud. I could find no markings on either strap.
Rain continued to fall and with time on my hands I decided to make a day of it and excavate the small shelter to try and determine what had transpired in the shelter. With a garden trowel I began raking the shallow dirt and stone debris into small piles and continued this until I had covered most of the floor. Then with a flashlight I began screening the piles starting with one near the entrance. It gave up two unspent twenty-two cartridges; several crock shards and a brass button used on overalls and the broken blade of a pocket knife. About midway in I discovered a horse or mule shoe and two unused shoeing nails and the rusted remains of a tin coffee cup.
In the meantime the rain had stopped and the sky cleared flooding the shelter with much welcomed light. I sat back and lit my pipe and poured a cup of coffee and inventoried the artifacts I had found in the piles of dirt and stones. There were eight twenty-two unfired cartridges, four spent cartridges, a horseshoe, two nails, coffee cup, two metal straps, a button and a short remnant of a bridle rein.
With most of the piles of dirt and stone recorded I decided to start at the rear wall of the shelter to look in every crook, cranny and ledge. With the added light it was easier now. My first discovery was a metal ring embedded in the wall about four feet from the floor and above it on a ledge lay a small seven shot twenty-two caliber revolver. It lay in mud, partial covered with grass tufts. The revolver was frozen in rust, the wooden handle long since decomposed. The weapon contained a short hexagon barrel and two spent cartridges. A Santa Fe brass railroad key lay behind the pistol and I would have been missed if I hadn’t scraped the ledge clean.
A thick bodied metal box of approximate eight inches high, twenty four inches long and twelve inches wide lay in a corner of the back wall, nearly covered in mud and gravel debris. The extent of the decomposition was near complete, a rusted hulk of metal. Two other metal straps were also noted and they too were nothing more than rust. A rusted tin frying pan and additional tin cup along with a short piece of copper tube completed the excavation with the exception of questionable items too badly decomposed or rusted to determine identity.
It is my assumption the railroad key, metal box and straps are an important aspect of the mystery or saga of the cave. The box may have contained currency taken in a robbery somewhere in the area around the turn of the century on or about the 1880’s or 90’s. (Note the following information is unrelated to the site. An acquaintance of mine discovered a safe in a hollow several miles away that had been blown open). The metal ring as far as I am concerned was used to tether horses. The story will remain a mystery I am sure, but is fuel for an imaginary story featuring the Lucky Seven Revolver as is now told in my third book, A Stranger in London Smoke.
The high back of McKee Ridge is scarred by an old county road that evolved from an Indian trace. The road begins east at Jones Crossing and meanders westward for possibly a mile across the ridge along the ruins and home places of early settlers to Highway K. It is said that Chief Black Hawk and his bandits frequented the road stealing unattended cattle and horses. A major portion of the vintage road has been invaded by brush and expanding plum thickets. Fireplace stones and remnants of farm machinery are all that is left of a time that dates back to the late 1700’s and early 1800’s. A secondary road veers off the main trace and follows the rim of the bluff for a half a mile or so. Adios
1 comment:
Very interesting!!!
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