Most return empty-handed, the conquistadors' fabled wealth still a fable, at least for another week. But enough find some "color" - a wee nugget or glittering flake - to feed the hope of a fortune from the earth. "I guess it's gold fever," says veteran prospector Joh Urses. "Even a tiny speck in the bottom of a pan, not worth 10 cents, will excite you and keep you going for hours."

While the treasures of lore remain elusive, precious metals still are plentiful in Utah. The state's mines produced 740,000 ounces of gold last year, third only to Nevada and California, and refined more than 4 million ounces of silver - fifth in the nation, the Utah Geological Survey reports. But it is gold, selling at $338.90 an ounce Thursday to silver's $4.08, that puts the glint in most prospectors' eyes, said Urses, co-owner of a Salt Lake City prospecting supply store.

"It took me a long time to find my first speck, something you could barely see on the end of your little finger. Oh, I was happy," he said. "I called my wife over and said, "Look at that! Look at that! "She leaned down, hit my finger and it dropped into the grass," Urses sighed. "That was the end of my first speck."

The memory helps Urses keep his hobby in perspective. "A prospector is an adventurer. He has that old-time '49er instinct that sets him apart a little bit," he said. "The adventure as much as anything is the payoff. The color is just icing on the cake."

Of an estimated 17,000 prospectors the Bureau of Land Management says filed nearly 11,000 claims in Utah last year, no more than 100 make a living scouring the state's hinterlands for precious metals.

They are a "hard-core" lot who closely guard their discoveries with tight lips, and in some cases rifles, says George A. Thompson, a lifelong prospector and author of numerous books on hidden treasures in Utah and the Southwest.

"There are a few people in the hills I call "crazies.' They'll shoot at you if they think you're jumping their claim," he said.

While others may scoff, Thompson believes the tales of secreted wealth along the Spanish Trail, over which gold from Spain's mineral-rich American empire was taken to galleons on the Texas gulf coast.

Several years ago, he says, he unearthed a plum-sized nugget and swears to have seen a dozen muffin-sized gold ingots another prospector - whom he will not name - recovered from a Spanish cache.

Thompson suspects that somewhere up Dry Fork Canyon, just west of the eastern Utah community of Vernal, may be "The Mine of Lost Souls." Legend has it that enslaved Ute Indians there rebelled in 1844, killing their Spanish overlords and throwing their bodies down a shaft before covering over the mine - along with its bullion and silver bars.

"It's all there," Thompson, a Heber City resident, wrote in "Lost Treasures on the Old Spanish Trail," "And the mine is just beyond, somewhere..."

Stark Wahlen, who took up prospecting three years ago, has heard the stories. But the Bountiful man says he'll settle for an occasional show of color.

"It's everybody's dream to find a gold mine, but I just do it for the fun, to get out in the mountains," he said. "The largest amount I ever found was a pennyweight of gold for a day and a half of work. About $17 - barely enough for the gas."

Wahlen estimates he's spent $2,000 on his hobby and recovered perhaps $100 worth of gold. Recently, he acquired a metal detector.

"It isn't how much gold you get, it's finding it. You see a couple little specks of gold in the bottom of your pan - even after working all day - and it thrills you. It's the same every time," he said. Urses heartily agrees, and can't resist one more anecdote.

He and partner Chuck Morris had collected a good quantity of promising soil over three weekends of digging and panning and decided it was time to find out what they had.

"So, we took it to a little local refinery, and there was a minimum $50 charge. Later, the fellow called and told us, "I hate to tell you this, but you owe me 50 bucks - and you've got $47 worth of gold," Urses said.

Demonstrating panning technique at a sink in the back of his tiny basement shop, Urses sloshed sand and gravel over the pan's edge. Gold is nearly 20 times heavier than water and sinks to the bottom. Using a jiggling motion, he worked the increasingly finer material with fresh tap water.

Finally, he smiled and pointed to a few flecks of yellow clustered in the pan's seam.

"There it is," he whispered. "Pretty, isn't it?"

This article retrieved from: The Deseret news, June 7, 1992