(In Pitt Lake district)
Hidden from the populace of miners seeking gold, just outside endurance length away up in the cold.
Crossing dizzy mountain tops where is this place they seek, with millions lying on the ground and billions underneath?
An Indian man ran out of grub so came down to a store, he paid the man a lump of gold and said “I’ve got lots more.”
But the Indian killed a white man and for this awful crime he had to pay the penalty, and so he lost his mine.
The Indian’s nephew came to him and begged of him to know the way to reach the Indian’s mine In case that he should go.
But the dusky Indian answered as he drew a long drawn breath I’ve sworn to God I shall not tell before I’m put to death.
But the Indian was mistaken if lie thought he left no clue, for there’s something I am telling but it’s just twixt me and you.
His cooking things and pail and cup his whetstone, too, and bed, his pick and pan and cabin have been found since he was dead.
A man by chance came through that way twas on the eleventh year for seven days was lost in fog this mining engineer.
He found the things the Indian had so that was proof enough and after all his hardships He sure was feeling tough so down he stooped to get a drink
Of water icy cold and as he drank his eyes beheld some great big lumps of gold.
He filled his pockets and a sack and piled some up beside, so feeling ill be travelled home and very soon he died.
But ere he died he left a map and some instructions too, and hoped someone would find the mine and help the needy, too.
Twenty years have passed, and now That times have got so bad Prospectors are as numerous as flies upon a pad.
Now some start out in two’s and three’s, and some in four’s or five, But most all came back disgusted And think they’re lucky to be alive.
But two went out not long ago they swore they made some climb but they found the Indian outfit Add also found the mine.
Now the Indian’s nephew stated The Indian was five foot two, so they measured his bed in the cabin and found that this was true.
The Indian’s cup and whetstone they brought home in their pack Just to satisfy curiosity until they can go back.
Now when they go, or where they go, I’ll just leave that to them.
But the two that found this gold mine Are PORT COQUITLAM men.
Written by L. J. Osborne
Port Coquitlam, B.C
Short poem, in the 15 December 1932 edition of The Coquitlam Herald.