(5-minute mystery) The Lost Mine of Headless Valley

[Politicalbeast]

The Lost Mine of Headless Valley



The little single-engine aircraft dipped sharply on its starboard wing, so sharply that Linda Fogolin almost lost her determination to be calm. She said nothing, but couldn’t stop herself from grabbing for a handhold on the dash. There was none, of course, and the action made her feel a bit foolish. Her husband, John, was eminently reasonable and easygoing, but there were two things she had learned never to criticize: his judgment of wines and his ability as a pilot. Yet when their Cessna 152 banked even further to follow a loop in the river, she protested.

“Is all this really necessary, John? We’re so low I can see the fish down there! Any lower and we can drop a line off the wing!”

John Fogolin’s answer was a mischievous grin. He leveled out and trimmed, but not before waggling the control wheel just a bit.

“Linda, we can’t take a chance of missing the marker. Von Zeldt said he found the mine entrance on the right bank, about a kilometer above Virginia Falls, and that’s where he set out the orange tarpaulin. We’ve got to follow right along the Nahanni here, and we’ve got to fly low.”

“Okay,” Linda responded. “But the falls is not even in sight yet. Do we have to scare the trout? It’s bad enough being in the middle of nowhere and dealing with that drunken Van Zeldt. Not to mention all that business about the skeletons with the missing skulls!”

John nodded sympathetically and adjusted the trim wheel again as the plane shuddered in a tiny pocket of turbulence.

“And those people!” Linda continued. “Those people in that town back there where we took off. You can sure tell they think we’re nuts!”

“Nahanni Butte?” John raised his eyebrows. “The people in Nahanni Butte? Sure they look like they’re frightened of this part of the country. What would you feel about a place called Headless Valley? But I think it’s just a tourist gimmick. They’re no fools.”

To undertake this flight, the Fogolins had left a wilderness tour group that was canoeing and camping along the Liard River, having followed the Mackenzie from Great Slave Lake. Like most Canadians, they were vaguely aware of the legend of Headless Valley, of the Macleod brothers and their lost gold mine; how in the early part of this century these two prospectors had gone up the South Nahanni, grubstaked for the season but had never come back. When their bodies were found – their skeletons – a note said they had found gold, a huge deposit. But there was no gold with the skeletons. And no skulls! They had been neatly removed! Since that time several prospectors had died or disappeared in the attempt to find the Macleod brothers’ mine.

Now John and Linda had joined the search. They had met Dieter Von Zeldt at the Hudson’s Bay post in Fort Simpson. John, with his happy capacity for meeting people with ease, immediately established a nodding acquaintance with almost everyone in the settlement, including Van Zeldt. After a few drinks and some earnest conversation, John had been sufficiently convinced – or at least intrigued – by Von Zeldt’s claim to have discovered the mine, that he arranged the rental of a plane out of Nahanni Butte.

Linda was less certain. She agreed that Von Zeldt may indeed have been a trapper. And a prospector. He may even, as he explained to them, have “almost completed” a degree in geology at Washington State before settling in the north. But in her opinion Von Zeldt was a reprobate.

That was why, as she and her husband followed the looping turns of the South Hahanni River in a rented Cessna 152, she was less disposed than he to be excited.

“Look there!” John pointed to the side of a jagged peak. “And there!”

Two groups of Dall sheep interrupted their placid grazing to stare briefly at the noisy intruder. There were over a dozen in each group, and not one of them appeared to be standing on a level support. Their very altitude on the mountain begged the question of how they got there. Linda felt her mood begin to mellow.

“They’re beautiful!” she breathed. “And just look where they are! You’d swear that they were painted onto…Oh!...Oh my gosh! It’s incredible! Just look at it!”

“Virginia Falls.” John replied with both awe and a bit of tension, for the little aircraft had begun to rock in the turbulent atmosphere created by the magnificent waterfall.

“About twice the height of Niagara,” he said as he reached for the throttle. “Imagine putting the Maid o’ the Mist under there!” He paused for just a second or two to stare at the pounding white water and then pulled more power into the Lycoming 235 engine. “We’ve got to get over that cloud it’s making. I don’t want to go through it or around it or we might miss Von Zeldt’s marker!”

Linda said nothing. She simply stared at Virginia Falls as the airplane surged higher. Leaving the low altitude now made her feel a bit isolated and lonely.

“Okay, keep a sharp eye now, Linda. It’s got to be near here.”

As the airplane eased closer to the water surface again, Linda could make out tiny details in the river. She began to feel excitement in spite of herself. The falls, the sheep, the whole adventure – it was all so stimulating. This time when John turned the Cessna on its side as the river bent to the right, Linda did not mind, even though her perspective changed so that she could see straight down through the side window. The river was wide at this point and stretched beneath the plane out of her vision. In fact she strained so hard to see the other bank that she almost missed the tarpaulin right beneath her.

“There, John!” she cried. “Right down there!”

Her husband banked even harder so that out her window he could see the tarpaulin spread out in a rockfall. It was plastic and ratty looking, but orange just as Von Zeldt had said. And more important, it was there. Neither he nor Linda had really expected it to be. John circled around the tarpaulin marker twice before either of them spoke.

Linda was first. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?”

John sighed. “You mean just how phony Von Zeldt might be? Yeah, I’m thinking that.” He paused and moved the control wheel to make an even tighter circle. “At least we know that near-degree in geology is probably in his imagination.”

“No question,” Linda nodded. “I’d bet he’s no prospector either! But then it’s not a complete waste. Let’s go back and circle around the falls again, and then see if we can find the sheep once more. I’ve never seen more beautiful scenery.”



Linda and John Fogolin have apparently dismissed the worth of Von Zeldt’s claim that he discovered the lost Macleod brothers’ mine. Why?

[Chris_]

Because bees don't fly at night?

[Politicalbeast]

Because bees don't fly at night?

A week late.

I just saw a fox cross the road.

[Politicalbeast]

This is one is going to be fairly difficult.

[bijou]

Just a guess ...















is the site too close to the river to have been a safe place to mine?

[Chris_]

Just a guess ...



is the site too close to the river to have been a safe place to mine?

Most panning was done in rivers.  I know that gold is pretty much always found in granite formations.  Limestone, OTOH, produces "fool's gold." I think I am onto something, but I need to reread it...

[Politicalbeast]

Nope.

[Chris_]

Nope.

To bijou or me?

[Politicalbeast]

Just a guess ...















is the site too close to the river to have been a safe place to mine?

Incorrect.

[Politicalbeast]

Nope.

To bijou or me?

Both.

[LC EFA]

If Von Zeldt really has "almost completed" a degree in geology, has found the missing mine, Why would he 1) Tell other people where it was, and 2) not be working it himself.

Additionally for a huge deposit of gold, surely there'd be some sign of mine workings (tailings / etc).

[Politicalbeast]

If Von Zeldt really has "almost completed" a degree in geology, has found the missing mine, Why would he 1) Tell other people where it was, and 2) not be working it himself.

Additionally for a huge deposit of gold, surely there'd be some sign of mine workings (tailings / etc).

No dice.

[Politicalbeast]

It has nothing to do with gold or the mine itself.

[Politicalbeast]

Answer:

They are flying up the Nahanni, as can be deduced from the fact that they had to gain altitude to get over the waterfall. John is flying the plane and although a Cessna 152 had dual controls, pilots always sit on the left. Linda, sitting beside him, is, therefore, looking out at the left bank of the river where she saw the marker. The left bank of a river is always the bank on the left going downstream. If Von Zeldt were either a former geology student or a prospector, he would have known this. Yet he told the Fogolins that the marker tarpaulin was on the right bank.

[jinxmchue]

Answer:

They are flying up the Nahanni, as can be deduced from the fact that they had to gain altitude to get over the waterfall. John is flying the plane and although a Cessna 152 had dual controls, pilots always sit on the left. Linda, sitting beside him, is, therefore, looking out at the left bank of the river where she saw the marker. The left bank of a river is always the bank on the left going downstream. If Von Zeldt were either a former geology student or a prospector, he would have known this. Yet he told the Fogolins that the marker tarpaulin was on the right bank.

Better answer: It turns out that Von Zeldt is actually a little scatter-brained, but knows his business.  He simply misspoke.  John and Linda missed their chance to strike it rich due to their anal retentiveness about which river bank is left and which is right.  Von Zeldt chose another couple a few days later and they ended up retiring quite happily in their mid-30s.

 

 

[Politicalbeast]

Answer:

They are flying up the Nahanni, as can be deduced from the fact that they had to gain altitude to get over the waterfall. John is flying the plane and although a Cessna 152 had dual controls, pilots always sit on the left. Linda, sitting beside him, is, therefore, looking out at the left bank of the river where she saw the marker. The left bank of a river is always the bank on the left going downstream. If Von Zeldt were either a former geology student or a prospector, he would have known this. Yet he told the Fogolins that the marker tarpaulin was on the right bank.

Better answer: It turns out that Von Zeldt is actually a little scatter-brained, but knows his business.  He simply misspoke.  John and Linda missed their chance to strike it rich due to their anal retentiveness about which river bank is left and which is right.  Von Zeldt chose another couple a few days later and they ended up retiring quite happily in their mid-30s.

 

 

Especially since they were relying solely on the information a so-called geologist had given them.

Headless Valley (British Columbia) is a real place where many prospectors have died looking for the supposed lost mine.

The locals insist the area is haunted.