Tag: Saline Valley

Frank “Shorty” Harris (1857–1934) was one of the most colorful and enduring figures of the American desert West—a short-statured, hard-drinking, single-blanket jackass prospector whose 1904 discovery of the Bullfrog Mine in Nevada’s Bullfrog Hills triggered one of the last great gold rushes of the early 20th century and gave birth to the boomtown of Rhyolite in Nye County. Though he never grew rich from his strikes and cheerfully sold or gambled away most of his claims, Harris became a living legend in the Death Valley region. His later 1905 gold find with Pete Aguereberry at Harrisburg in the Panamint Mountains further cemented his reputation as a man who could “smell gold.” For more than three decades he wandered the harsh terrain of Death Valley (California) and adjacent Nye County, Nevada, embodying the romantic, footloose desert rat long after the major booms had faded.

Early Life and Wanderings

Born Frank Harris on July 21, 1857 (some accounts say 1856), near Providence, Rhode Island, he was orphaned at age seven when both parents died. Raised by an aunt who treated him harshly, he ran away at nine to work in textile mills. In the late 1870s, at about age twenty, he rode the rails west seeking fortune in the mines. Standing only five feet four inches tall, he earned the nickname “Shorty” early on.

Harris chased every major rush of the era: Leadville, Colorado; Tombstone, Arizona; the Coeur d’Alene district in Idaho; and others. He reached the Death Valley country in the 1880s–1890s, prospecting around Ballarat, California, and later the great Nevada booms at Tonopah and Goldfield. Like most old-time prospectors, he arrived too late for the richest ground and never accumulated lasting wealth. What he did accumulate was an encyclopedic knowledge of the desert, a gift for tall tales, and a reputation for generosity mixed with wild exaggeration.

The Bullfrog Discovery and Nye County Legacy (1904)

Harris’s most famous strike came on August 9, 1904, in the Bullfrog Hills of southern Nye County, Nevada, just east of Death Valley. Traveling with partner Ernest “Ed” Cross, he was camped at Buck Springs (near present-day Beatty) after leaving the Keane Wonder Mine. While chasing stray burros one morning, Shorty stubbed his toe on a rock, looked down, and saw a greenish quartz ledge speckled with visible gold—“jewelry stone” so rich it assayed at up to $3,000 per ton. The pair named their claim the Bullfrog Mine because the ore’s color reminded them of a frog’s back.

Word spread like wildfire. Within days a stampede erupted from Goldfield and Tonopah; newspapers called it one of the wildest rushes in Western history. New towns sprang up almost overnight—Rhyolite, Bullfrog, Amargosa City, and others. Rhyolite, founded in 1905 on the slopes below the discovery, quickly became Nye County’s premier mining metropolis. At its peak (1906–1908) it boasted 5,000–10,000 residents, three railroads, a stock exchange, opera house, ice plant, and concrete buildings that still stand today as ghostly ruins. The Bullfrog Mining District produced nearly $1.7 million in gold between 1907 and 1910, though production declined sharply afterward.

Characteristically, Harris and Cross sold their interests early and cheaply. Shorty reportedly gambled or drank away much of his share (one account says he traded it for $1,000 and a mule). He never profited from the district he helped create, yet he remained proud of the strike that “made Rhyolite grow like a mushroom.” His role in Nye County mining history is foundational: the Bullfrog rush revived interest in the Amargosa-Death Valley borderlands and briefly turned a remote corner of Nye County into a symbol of Nevada’s final great mining boom.

One night, when I was pretty well lit up, a man by the name of Bryan took me to his room and put me to bed. The next morning, when I woke up, I had a bad headache and wanted more liquor. Bryan had left several bottles of whiskey on a chair beside the bed and locked the door. I helped myself and went back to sleep. That was the start of the longest jag I ever went on; it lasted six days. When I came to, Bryan showed me a bill of sale for the Bullfrog, and the price was only $25,000. I got plenty sore, but it didn’t do any good. There was my signature on the paper and beside it, the signatures of seven witnesses and the notary’s seal. And I felt a lot worse when I found out that Ed had been paid a hundred and twenty-five thousand for his half, and had lit right out for Lone Pine, where he got married.

Frank “Shorty” Harris
Touring Topics: Magazine of the American Automobile Association of Southern California
October 1930

Harrisburg and Continued Death Valley Prospecting (1905 onward)

In June 1905, still riding the wave of his Bullfrog fame, Harris teamed with French-Basque prospector Pete Aguereberry. While crossing the Panamint Mountains toward Ballarat for the Fourth of July, they found free gold on a ridge in what became known as Harrisburg Flats. Pete staked the north side (Eureka Mine) and Shorty the south. A tent camp of several hundred people briefly flourished before fading; the site was first called “Harrisberry” in Shorty’s honor, then Harrisburg. Aguereberry eventually won legal control of the Eureka and worked it alone for decades, while Harris moved on.

Harris continued roaming the Death Valley region for the rest of his life—prospecting, guiding occasional visitors, and living the minimalist existence of a “single blanket jackass prospector.” He preferred the freedom of the desert to the comforts of town, often traveling with a string of burros and little else.

Personality, Later Years, and Death

Shorty was famous for his wit, storytelling, and love of saloons. He claimed to have attended every major rush since the 1880s and delighted in recounting (and embellishing) his adventures. Despite his rough edges, he was well-liked and generous. In his final years he lived quietly in a cabin near Big Pine, California.

Ill for some time, Frank “Shorty” Harris died in his sleep on November 10, 1934, at age 77. True to his wishes, he was buried in Death Valley near the grave of his friend James Dayton. His simple marker carries the epitaph he requested:

“Here lies Shorty Harris, a single blanket jackass prospector.”

Legacy in Nye County and Death Valley

Though he left no fortune, Shorty Harris’s discoveries shaped the historical landscape of both regions. In Nye County, the ruins of Rhyolite and the scattered remnants of Bullfrog stand as monuments to the rush he ignited. In Death Valley National Park, the Harrisburg site and Aguereberry Camp preserve the memory of his partnership with Pete Aguereberry. His name appears in trail guides, park literature, and countless desert histories. More than any bank account, Shorty valued the freedom of the open desert and the camaraderie of fellow prospectors. In an era of corporate mining, he represented the last generation of lone wanderers who opened the final frontiers of the American West.

“I hear that Frisco is a ghost town now—abandoned and the buildings falling to ruin. That is what happened to many of the towns where I worked in the early days, but nobody then would have thought it was possible. Even now, it’s hard for me to believe that owls are roosting over those old bars where we lined up for drinks, and sagebrush is growing in the streets.”

Frank Shorty Harris

“almost as hell-roaring a place as Leadville. The boys were all decorated with six-guns and believe me, they knew how to use them. The handiest on the draw stayed in town, but those that were too slow made a one-way trip to Boot-Hill

Frank Shorty Harris – On Tombstone in 1885

Articles Tagged Shorty Harris

Resources

• NPS article on Shorty Harris and the Bullfrog Mining District
• DesertUSA
• Findagrave.com