The Lost Gold at Kejimkujik
(the story of Jim Charles)
(excerpts from Footsteps on Old Floors. Thomas Raddall 1988, Pottersfield Press)
https://docslib.org/the-lost-gold-at-kejimkujik
This man’s name was Jim, and because his father’s name was Charles the white folk naturally called the son Jim Charles. He lived in the backwoods of western Nova Scotia by the shore of a lake called Kejimkujik. In medical English it means “the strictured passage”. The Indians called it that because their fish weirs in the outlet partly blocked the stream, and so backed up the water and caused the lake to swell.
Jim Charles was born in a wigwam somewhere in the Nova Scotia forest about the year 1830. He had got a grant of government land on a point in Kejimkujik, where the Mersey River entered the lake on its way toward the sea. The region of Kejimkujik was famous for fish and game, and visiting sportsmen found Jim the best of guides. Jim also would spend the fall fishing for eels at the lake outlet. Whenever September came, Jim and the others in the little Indian group about Kejimkujik set up their weir in the outlet of the lake.
So Jim Charles lived the happiest life possible for an Indian.. From April till November he fished, hunted, or merely roved the forest as he pleased. Then came the comfort of the snug cabin by the shore of Kejimkujik, screened from north winds by tall pine woods; with Lizzie’s bins full of potatoes, turnips and corn, with barrels of smoked eels, and always a haunch or two of venison hanging in the woodshed.
The best of Jim Charle’s sportsmen friends was Judge Ritchie of Annapolis Royal, who liked to fish the streamsabout “Keji” in spring and early summer, and to do a bit of shooting in the fall. One spring in the early 1870’s Judge Ritchie came to “Keji” for a fishing trip and found his usually stolid guide twitching with excitement. Jim declared that he had found the “brown silver” that all the white men were talking about. The Indian opened a small leather pouch and showed him a small handful of nuggets and dust. He had found these, he said, while paddling along a stream. Ritchie was still doubtful but he cautioned Jim to keep mum about his find. Ritchie arranged for Jim to send his gold to him in Annapolis Royal for processing. He told him to hide it in Lizzie’s butter firkins. Ritchie kept Jim’s proceeds from the gold in the bank in Annapolis Royal.
However, Jim was not satisfied with the small amount he could spend from his find so gradually started traveling to Halifax to by fine clothes for himself and his wife. He began to ‘show off’ his newfound wealth.
By this time everyone knew that Jim Charles had found gold somewhere about “Keji” and furtive strangers had appeared in the district, watching every move he made. Jim was smart enough to lead them on false trails through the woods so none ever discovered Jim’s mother lode. One guy by the name of Hamilton followed him one time and got lost. He suffered a long, hard and hungry time before he found his way out again. One day, hot with rum, Hamilton thrust his way into Jim’s cabin and demanded to know where the gold was. They had a physical struggle and Jim grabbed one of his guns, swung it by the barrel and hit Hamilton with the butt. He had no wish to kill the man but the blow killed Hamilton.
The nearest magistrate was a man named Harlow who ran a store in Caledonia, about twenty miles away. Jim ran there and declared, “Mister Harlow! Save me! Save me! I killed Hamilton!” Harlow called together a coroner’s jury, and they traveled in a little procession of buggies and riding wagons to Kejimkujik. There they examined Hamilton’s body and heard the testimony of Lizzie and Madeleine, Jim’s daughter. When all was said and done, the verdict was “death by misadventure.’
Jim, not knowing how far a coroner’s verdict could protect him, decided not to take a chance. Instead he took to the woods with a light bark canoe, his familiar traveling equipment, and a gun and ammunition. He headed off into the wilderness, beyond the present-day border of Kejimkujik National Park to a small lake. Here he hid in a cave under a large granite boulder. Jim remained in hiding here for three years, a fugitive of his own fears, because no one came searching for him. At last, however, Jim realized that the affair had blown over, and he came back to stay openly in his home on the “kej” shore. There are other parts to the legend (or true story!) but to be brief....
After that one brief glitter of prosperity in his life, poor Jim had nothing but hard luck. While still a young woman, Madeleine died, probably of tuberculosis, like Lizzie before her, and she lies in the long-abandoned Indian burial ground on the eastern shore of Kejimkujik, just across the little bay from what is still called Jim Charle’s Point. In old age Jim became a rheumatic cripple, badly stooped, hobbling a few steps painfully with the aid of two sticks. He was crazy in the head as well. An Indian family named Francis took pity on him and brought him to live with them. He died about the year 1905.
His cabin and little barn on the point in Kejimkujik tumbled down in a few years. Sportsmen liked to camp on “Jim Charle’s Point” and about the year 1907 some sportsmen from Annapolis Royal formed what they called “The Kedgemakooge Rod and Gun Club” and built a wooden lodge near the site of Jim’s cabin. It was a popular resort for many years, and some American visitors had cottages built on the point. The spot where Jim Charles hid out is still known to local woodsmen as “Jim Charles’s Rock” or “Jim Charles’s Cave.” As for his gold, some folk still believe it remains hidden in the forest about “Kej.”
The real site of Jim’s discovery, the Reeves mine on the Tusket, yielded high grade ore for three years, but the gold content continued to dwindle and the mine ceased operations about 1928.
See Lulu.Com and search on 'John Paul's Rock' for the novel by Frank Parker Day, for one story of Jim Charles.
