The Search for the Indian Lead Mine on Lyon Mountain, by E. E. Thomas

Legend has it that a lead mine, once known only to Indians, exists in the Lyon Mountain area of the Adirondacks. The story of two white men's attempts to discover the location of this treasure was told years ago by Captain E. E. Thomas of Chateaugay Lake. He claimed to have secured his information from descendants of the white men who were in contact with the Indian users of the lead from this mine. His account, which is here condensed, appeared in the Chateaugay Record in May and June 1950.

AFTER the Chateaugay Ore and Iron Company sold out to the Delaware and Hudson Railroad Company, I was hired by the latter to go through their holdings and estimate the amount of standing timber. I was also to find the old lines and to watch for lumbermen who, having no respect for boundary lines, kept chopping in the direction in which they could see the best timber. This work took me into all the logging camps of the area and into the homes of the oldest inhabitants. When the business talks were over, I would frequently be entertained by stories of bygone days. In one of these I became greatly interested. It concerned an Indian lead mine, and lest I should forget the details, I wrote the story down, as it was told to me, on the back of my report blanks.

NATHANIEL COLLINS was one of the first white hunters or trappers to paddle a canoe on the Chateaugay Lakes or to roam the surrounding woods. His camp was located on what is now called Baker Point.

One day while fishing in South Inlet, he heard an unusual noise on the shore below him. He paddled toward the spot and caught a glimpse of someone walking on the shore. Suddenly a pretty Indian girl, attired in a buckskin suit, stepped out on the beach almost in front of his canoe. To his salutation of "Good morning", she replied in unbroken English.

She told him that her father and mother were with her and that they were on a hunting and fishing trip. They were going to build a canoe to use while they were there and also a bark wigwam to protect them from the rain.

Before she had finished, the old squaw appeared, and then the girl's father. The father said very little but looked at the white stranger with a frown.

In a few minutes the girl turned and began to converse again with Nat. He told her that they need not build a canoe, that they were welcome to the use of his, and he also invited them to his camp for as long as they wished to stay. When the girl told this to her parents, the frown left her father's face, and a smile revealed their appreciation. Their scant belongings were carried to Nat's cabin, and at the first meal they devoured nearly all the food Nat had.

Before sunset that evening Nat took the Indian girl out on the lake to hunt for game. The girl demonstrated her expert marksmanship. During their stay she went hunting with him three times, fired four shots and killed three deer. The Indians helped jerk this venison, and this with the fish they caught comprised most of their living.

One day Nat and the girl went out fishing. She, feeling quite free with him by this time, told him the real reason why they were there.

"My father is getting old," she began. "There is but one chief over him. He had been here many times, but he says he will come only once more. We are here to get lead for bullets for his rifle." "Where is the lead mine? " asked Nat.

"I will tell you", she replied, "what no other white man ever knew. Go up this brook about one hour. On the side of the brook on which the sun rises there is a pointed rock about three feet high. This rock is held in position by two smaller ones. Go on about fifteen minutes and you will come to a spruce log lying directly across the stream. Now you are half way between the pointed rock and a hemlock tree which is blown over and has several pegs driven into it. When you find this, go straight towards the sun about twenty minutes and you will come to the lead mine."

"But", said Nat, "if I go in the morning, the sun will be in the east, and if I go in the afternoon, it will be in the west. What time of day shall I go?"

"Ah, ha!" laughed the girl. "That I can't tell you. As much as my father loves me, he would shoot me if he knew I have told you what I have, for he says no white man shall ever see this mine."

One day the girl told Nat that she and her father and mother were going to the mine and cautioned him against following, "for if you do," she said, "Father will shoot you."

It was near three o'clock when they started out, the old chief in the lead, his squaw following, and the girl bringing up the rear. The girl suspected that Nat would follow in spite of her warning. They were not quite out of sight when the girl turned and motioned to Nat to go back. But Nat was not afraid of a bullet at such a long distance as he meant to follow. He started slowly on behind and was careful not to gain too much on them. As dusk set in, Nat knew it was useless to go any nearer. It was obvious that they were waiting for darkness.

Then an idea struck him. Across the big inlet there was a high elevation from which he could get a good view of Lyon Mountain. By going to this elevation, he could surely locate their campfire.

As there was a bright moon, he made good time down the brook and up to the highest point on the ridge. There he waited and watched for the fire that would help locate the mine. He watched throughout the night but no campfire appeared.

Breakfast was of little importance to him next morning. He swallowed a bite, and cramming some venison into his pocket, he went to the hemlock log where he had last seen the Indians. Their footprints were plain until he reached this spot. Then where did they go? Nat searched but not one footprint did he find to give him the slightest clue to the direction in which they had gone.

All that day he hunted, traveling in ever-widening circles around the old hemlock. As the sun went down, he went back to camp, ate a hearty supper, and started out again. This time he went to a place where he could get a different view of Lyon Mountain, but the results were the same. For the next five days he hunted for smoke by day and fire by night, but neither did he see.

On the eighth day the Indians returned with all the lead they could carry. Most of it was in long strips with much charcoal in it. This revealed to Nat that they had got the lead out by building a fire on or beside it and as the lead melted, scraped it out with sticks.

After that they stayed but one more night with Nat. The girl told him as they left that they would be back in a few days for more lead.

They were barely out of sight when Nat again started out on the hunt for treasure. He thought that the old chief would have been unable to wipe out the tracks they would have made with the heavy load on their backs. But his search was in vain, and he returned to his cabin with much respect for the Indian's crafty ways.

Shortly after this, the Indians returned for their final trip to the mountain of precious minerals. This time Nat did not try to follow them but awaited their return, which was on the third day. That night the girl asked Nat for a kettle and bullet mold. When the lead was hot, they ran a large supply of bullets and gave them to Nat. (At the time I was gathering this information, Collins' daughter, Mrs William Shaw, who lived at Lower Chateaugay Lake. had three of these bullets).

The Indians never returned for more lead. Nat persistently continued the search but with no success.

AT CHAZY Lake, about five miles from Upper Chateaugay Lake, Mose Sangimore had settled about the same time that Nat Collins came to Chateaugay Lake.

One day Mose went hunting on Lyon Mountain, but whenever he went in this direction, it was not for the game to be found there. He had heard about the Indians' lead mine, and it was this that pulled him like a magnet towards the top of the mountain.

As he advanced, he smelled smoke, yet none could be seen in any direction and there was very little wind to carry the odor very far. Putting a finger in his mouth, he let it remain until it was blood warm. Then taking it out, he held it above his head. The side on which he felt the cool air told him in which direction to go to locate the source of the unusual smell.

Advancing carefully, he was soon standing beside an opening from which smoke was issuing. "I have found the lead mine!" he said to himself.

But Nat Collins had told him of the Indian girl's threat, so very cautiously he explored the opening. On two sides there were solid ledges, and leading down into the depths, he could see stones which were used as stairs. He ventured down for about eight feet. Overhead he could see logs laid side by side and reaching far back into the blackness of the cavern. No sound came from the depths, but there was a strong smell of smoke.

He climbed out of the cavern, made a mental note of the nearby trees and bushes, and slowly walked down the ridge, looking back to familiarize himself with the surroundings. When he was about 200 yards away, he climbed a yellow birch tree, and taking his overalls off, hung them in the very top. Then he climbed down and proceeded toward home. Every bush that came within his reach he broke until he was sure that he could return by this well-marked trail.

The next morning, with his rifle on his shoulder and four neighbors accompanying him, he began to climb to the opening he had seen the day before. The trail was easily followed, and at last they reached the yellow birch tree.

"This is the tree, " he said, "on which I hung my overalls, but they are not here. Yet I am sure this is the ridge."

They searched the area but no trace could they find of the mine. They finally returned to their homes, no wiser and no richer than they had been in the morning.

It is my belief that the Indians were in the mine getting lead when Mose Sangimore discovered it. Anyone familiar with Indians knows that they would have seen his broken bushes and found his overalls in the tree. Undoubtedly they erased his trail marks by cutting all the brush and then breaking other bushes on a similar ridge to mislead the white man.

Now time has worked many changes, and death has sealed the knowledge of what little the white men were permitted to learn. The location of the Indian lead mine remains to this day a mystery.

York State Tradition
Summer, 1967, 23-7