Shorty Harris
Shorty Harris (1856-1934), was the quintessential desert prospector. He said he could “smell gold”, and he most likely could. He either found it or was close enough to lie about finding it when it was found. He was by all accounts, a character in the truest sense of the word. He was loved by all, except for the woman he loved, a rather large woman of Ballarat who rebuffed his advances by telling him there wasn’t enough of him to make her a happy woman.
Shorty liked his liquor. As he said he partook too much of the “Oh-be-joyful”, and often found himself flat broke and at the bad end of a practical joke- For instance, the time he passed out and woke up at his own funeral in a casket. He ran a half a mile before he realized he wasn’t dead.
He’d found, or claimed to have discovered the Bullfrog strike at Rhyolite. He sold out for what he thought to be a good amount, and spent it all in just a few days celebrating. He’d kicked himself good on that one for awhile, but went out and prospected up some more and did it all over again.
Shorty lived a decent long time, but finally passed away in his 70s in Big Pine. He requested that he be buried with his friend, Jim Dayton, who had been buried where he had died, at the bottom of Death Valley. Sure enough, he got his wish with the epitaph writen as he requested. It reads, “Here lies Shorty Harris a single blanket jackass prospector.”