CHAPTER 3 - A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
The boys peddled up the narrow, winding road that led to the cave. It ended at a tiny parking area. Jason passed the empty tour bus and skid to a halt. As Daniel squeezed past him, the handlebars bumped together and he narrowly missed getting his fingers pinched.
A wooden sign tacked to a tree read, Haunted Cave. The arrow pointed to a boardwalk that disappeared into the trees. Voices drifted back from the tour group. Uncle Matt was explaining the geology of the area and how the cave was formed.
"Come on," Daniel said. "We can catch up. You haven't missed much. We can see Katie's new spectacular lighting effects. They better be good since her college is depending on them."
They joined the group as they were entering the cave. Daylight illuminated the path into the opening for several feet before it was shrouded in darkness. They tagged along at the end of the group and entered the main room of the cave. Matt jumped onto a large flat rock and looked out over the crowd. The wavering torch flame behind him made his enormous shadow dance and flicker on the walls.
"It was a dark and stormy night," Matt began in a low melodramatic voice. There were a few snickers in the crowd. "Actually," he continued, "it really was a dark and stormy night. There was no moonlight and no stars out. Peter McPherson was beginning to worry. His mule was tired and stumbling over stones in the path. Not a nice boardwalk like the one we used to come up here, but a rough and narrow trail. He was leading a second mule that was carrying his fortune."
Jason forgot about the crowd. He felt McPherson's tension and the dangers of the night closing in around him. Matt's voice became a soft undercurrent, weaving the story?
All day McPherson felt uneasy as if he were being watched. Now every crack and rustle made his already tense muscles jerk in response. His mule felt the tension and was stubborn about continuing on.
Then it started to rain. Soon he was soaked. The weight from his water logged shirt pulled at his arms making them ache. Flashes of lightening lit up the surroundings giving him brief momentary glimpses of the area. He thought he saw another rider, but wasn't sure. Another flash revealed a cave entrance. Without hesitation he urged his mule inside.
He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes and shivered from cold and fear. Was there another rider out there who was after his fortune? Would he find the opening to the cave? The smell of wet, steaming mules filled the air. He unloaded his supplies. As he lifted a bag of silver from the pack mule, he noticed a small pile of firewood and ashes from a previous campfire. He dropped the silver and crouched, ready for an attack. His stomach knotted, and his eyes searched the shadows for movement.
A loud crack of thunder made him cry out. The startled mules bolted back down the corridor knocking him over in their fear. Stabbing pain seared his leg as he was thrown against a sharp rock. He scrambled to his feet, and stumbled down the passageway after the mules. A curtain of water poured over the opening to the cave. He plunged through and was absorbed into the storm. When he whistled for the mules, the wind caught his breath and the noise was muffled by the howling blast. In despair he somehow found his way back into the cave.
The sound of trickling water came from somewhere farther back in the cavern. Water dripped from his clothes onto the bag of silver coins that lay at his feet.
He scanned the cave for a hiding place and spotted a stalagmite column in the shadows near the back wall. He dragged the bag over the rough floor and dropped it into a natural depression stirring up the odor of dust and wet burlap. The column made a good marker for the spot. He was breathing heavy by the time he finished covering it with loose rocks.
Then he built a fire. The smoke made him cough, but soon the dry wood caught the flame and the smoke disappeared as it drifted up to the high ceiling.
His leg throbbed with pain as he stripped off his wet clothing and wrapped himself in a wool blanket. Exhausted, he fell asleep.
A terrible noise of falling rocks woke him in the night. The fire had burned down to embers, and it was too dark for him to investigate. He drifted back into a fitful sleep. When he woke again, light from a full moon filtered into the cave through an opening in the roof.
He built up the fire and dressed in dry clothes. Taking one of the burning sticks for a torch, he made his way to the front of the cave. To his horror he stood staring at what had caused the earlier noise. The entrance had collapsed, and he was trapped.
He limped back to the main chamber and looked up to the opening in the roof. With grim determination he began to climb the wall. He was half way up when a cloud covered the moon and plunged the cave into darkness. Trembling, he sat down on the narrow ledge and waited.
He jerked, and realized he must have dozed off. Morning light now illuminated the room, and he saw that he was about fifteen feet above the cave floor. He trembled at the thought that he had climbed that wall in the darkness. Below he saw the pillar where the treasure was hidden. The sunlight shone on its porous material making it glow a golden color.
It was more dangerous to go down than continue on. Favoring his injured leg, he hobbled over a narrow outcrop with a sheer drop off. Then a path opened up and led to the opening. He climbed the rest of the way up and out.
A cool breeze was blowing, and it was a relief to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was clear and it was late morning. From his vantage point he could see for miles.
Below him an army of Union soldiers were making their way down the same path he had ridden through the woods the night before. He crouched down among the rocks hoping he had not been seen.
An army of Confederate soldiers was coming from the other direction. They would soon meet where the entrance to the cave used to be. Water from the torrential rains had caused mud to slide down the hill taking rocks, branches, and other debris with it. The entrance was now buried under a pile of rubble.
He looked to his right. To his surprise he saw his saddle mule. There was no way to climb back down into the cave to get his treasure, but he now had an opportunity to escape before the armies converged. Favoring his bruised leg he scrambled down the hill, caught the mule, and rode as fast as he dared away from the ensuing battle.
Matt paused, and a silence settled over the chamber. The torchlight flickered, and they heard the faint sound of dripping water deep in the cave. Jason would not have been surprised if McPherson himself had stepped out from the shadows. Then the crowd stirred, and a small child fussed. The spell was broken.
"Over the years," Matt said, "the debris hiding the entrance was washed away. Not too long after that, a local resident named Silas happened to come through the cave and found the treasure of silver dollars. He claims that McPherson's ghost showed him where the treasure was hidden." There were smiles and a few chuckles.
Matt walked over to the pillar and lifted out a bag. Pulling out a coin he held it up to the crowd.
"This is a replica of a Spanish Milled Dollar. These coins circulated in our country from Colonial times to about the end of the Civil War. The treasure Silas found was a large bag of these coins."
Katie turned on electric torches that were hung on the walls. The chamber and the passageway leading outside were lit up with flickering lights.
"That's the end of the tour folks, but everyone gets a replica coin. Don't forget to stop by the gift shop where you can purchase a pendant or key chain to hold your souvenir."
As Matt was handing out the coins to the tour group, Jason heard a rustling noise behind him. He saw a small boy rolling up a parchment and walking toward the cave entrance. From under a straw hat, fine blonde hair trailed down the back of his neck. His bare feet made no noise. The boy turned, and their eyes met. Then the boy looked past him and saw the tour group. His face turned white, and with a gasp he ran toward the cave entrance.
"Daniel," Jason said as he pulled on his arm. "A strange boy just ran out of the cave."
"What?"
"Come on," Jason said, and dashed toward the entrance. But when they got
outside there was no one there. Jason stood looking around puzzled. "He disappeared."
"Who are we looking for?" Daniel asked.
"The boy in the bib overalls."
"Bib overalls?" Daniel shook his head. "I'm sure his parents will come looking for him."
"He wasn't part of the group."
"How do you know?"
"He was wearing a straw hat, no shoes, and a long sleeve flannel shirt?"
"Flannel shirt? In this heat?"
"Yeah, strange?and he was rolling up a large parchment that looked like a pirate map."
"You mean a treasure map? I think the heat's getting to you. People who aren't used to the heat sometimes see things you know."
"I'm not seeing things," Jason mumbled.
People from the tour group filed out of the cave as they talked and examined their coins on the way back to the bus.
As Matt walked by he said, "See you back at the Silver Lode. Don't be late for dinner. You know how your mom fusses when we're not all there on time."
Cave of Discovery Page 3