Who We Are By ken woodward
The Tale of Jessica and Jericho

High on the eastern slopes of the Cuyamaca mountains, faint wispy strands of haze drift on soft winds. Towering, green conifer pines, a few stately cedars and stands of ancient oak trees sweep down the slopes and into meadows and grasslands below. Undisturbed for millions of years, streams of bright yellow wealth course beneath the canyons and valleys of these mountains, waiting for the advent of human adventure.

It is 1875, and Jessica and Jericho, sister and brother, are riding their two mules and leading a pack donkey. They are careful to keep to the cover of the dense conifer pines and live oaks that border on the lower grasslands, fearful of being detected by the three men they suspect of killing their father.

Jessica is 15; her brother, 16. Both have lived in these mountains with their father for the past six years. When they were ages 5 and 6, they could remember their father returning from a war, which their mother said had something to do with a president named Lincoln and a general named Lee. Shortly thereafter, they left Arkansas by covered wagon on a frightful journey to a place called California. They remembered how their mother died of childbirth halfway here, how sad their father was, and how lovingly he took care of them.

Dad and Jericho built a log cabin and dug three tunnels in the earth near another mine called the Stonewall. Jessica learned how to keep house, take care of the animals, and cook for the three. The third tunnel of the Three Js Mine produced yellow specks of metal, just what their dad had been looking for.

One day, their father didn’t return home. The next day, Jessica and Jericho rode out to the mine to find him and encountered three mean-looking men standing in its entrance.

"Where is our dad?" Jericho asked.

"You mean that guy who was digging here?" said the big one, who menacingly stepped forward. "Well, he sold us the mine, signed the deed to us, and skedaddled out of here. Said he was going up north. Didn’t say anything about having two kids.

"Now you two git, before you get into trouble," the big guy growled.

"Where is our dad?" Jessica screamed.

With tears running down his cheeks, and realizing the potential danger, Jericho reached across to Jessica, took her gently by the arm and led her and her mule away.

Terrified and in shock, the two teenagers retreated to their cabin in the next valley. Mom and Dad, one or the other, had always been around to take care of them. Now, there was no one — and they were alone.

That afternoon, not knowing really what to do, they rode 10 miles into Julian City to see if someone would help them. There was no sheriff, and inquiry after inquiry was made — but all they could find out was that their father’s mine was in the Cuyamaca Rancho, and it probably didn’t belong to him in the first place. While they were in the city that afternoon, there were two gunfights in the street: One man was killed, and no one seemed to care.

After a week of grieving for their father, and no activity, they awoke one morning and began planning for a new life. Out back in their split-rail corral, they had a milk cow, two mules and a donkey. Ten miles to the north, other mines were open and the miners needed food. Jericho would take their dog Rex, and track down and kill deer. Jessica would bake bread, make venison sandwiches and stew, and the two would peddle this fare to the mine workers.

Gradually, everyone got to know and like them, and their business flourished. They had free access to the mines, even getting to know the owner of the Banner Queen, and the foreman of the Golden Eagle.

On this day, as they had for the past two weeks since the beginning of their endeavor, they gave the three men at their father’s mine a wide berth. Arriving home, they began unloading the pack donkey.

"Did you get those three picks with the Banner Queen mark on the handle?" Jericho asked.

"Sure did," Jessica answered. "In fact, I got one mortar and a pestle when the foreman wasn’t looking."

During the next two days, they made similar acquisitions, including shovels, at the Golden Eagle mine. A new twist was added the next day, when they arrived home leading two prize stallions, one with the brand of the owner of the Banner Queen, and the other with the brand of the foreman for the Golden Eagle. And two days later, they herded into their corral three steers with other brands. 

After two days, a rider arrived at the Three Js Mine and handed the big man an official notice and handbill from Julian City, announcing that the Cuyamaca Rancho was private land. The following day, another rider rode up to the mine and delivered a message that read, "The owners of the Mesa, Blind Eagle, and Money in the Pocket Mines would like to discuss the purchase of the Three Js Mine. If interested, a meeting will be held at 2 p.m. on Friday at the Gold Dog saloon in Julian City."

It didn’t take the three men long to realize that it was in their best interests to attend the meeting. 

Late Thursday afternoon, Jessica and Jericho made their rounds. The owner of the Banner Queen was standing outside the mine office when the two rode up.

"Sir, have you lost a horse and some stock?" asked Jericho. 

"I sure have," the owner responded. "If I ever catch that horse thief, who also stole several of my cattle, I’ll have him hung from the tallest tree."

"Well," Jericho advised, "three men have got them in a corral back of the Three Js Mine. They also have a horse and cattle with the brands belonging to the foreman of the Golden Eagle mine.

"And we seen them carrying in mining equipment," he added. "Also, yesterday, Jessica and me heard them talking about a meeting at the Gold Dog saloon on Friday at 2 p.m."

Now that they had delivered their message, the two mounted their mules and headed for their cabin.

"Jessica, we’ve got work to do," Jericho said.

Late Friday afternoon, after a busy mid-day of moving stock and equipment, Jessica and Jericho were sitting on their mules in grove of trees on a small rise to the east of the Three 3Js Mine. They observed about 15 heavily armed riders leading the three men, with ropes around their necks, down the trail to mine.

All dismounted, first looking in the corral to check the horses and cattle, and then entering the mine. A half-hour later, the three, wildly protesting and throwing their hands into the air, were roughly wrenched back up on their horses and tied firmly to their saddles, with ropes still around their necks. The posse whirled their horses about and at a half-trot, headed back toward Julian City with the three men firmly in custody.      

"Jericho," Jessica said with sadness in her voice, "I think Dad would have thought that we did right."   

"Yep," responded an upbeat Jericho. "Now we got to make his mine work real good."

Ken Woodward is Director of the Guy B. Woodward Museum located at 645 Main Street. For information call (760) 789-7644.