When Walz died in
Phoenix in 1891 he reportedly left a map, giving the location of the treasure.
But all efforts to reach the mine failed, and the authentic map—if there ever
was one—has long since vanished among countless fakes. So the Dutchman (who was
really a German) apparently carried the secret of the mine to his grave and
started the longest, bloodiest gold hunt known to the West. The people around
Apache Junction claim that during the peak tourist season two bodies a
month—cold bodies—are carried out of Old Superstition, strapped across the
backs of burros.
Some die of their
own carelessness. Some are shot by other prospectors, greedy and trigger-happy.
Others are said to have been killed by a small, unapproachable band of Indians,
still living a primitive mountain life and guarding the secret of what Jacob
Walz called "the richest gold mine I ever heard of." No one has yet
been killed by a line drive sailing out of Geronimo Park.
The Colt .45s
have no hard rule against it, but they discourage their players from embarking
on any impulsive gold hunts into Old Superstition. Bonus Babies, worth 50 grand
and up, are absolutely forbidden to.