“Pooh, nonsense! What could you do?”
“Sure I’d make a dash for it. There’s nothin like tryin. Nothin venture, nothin have. I’ve got a notion that a body might make a bit of a tunnel in under there, an git at the money-box. At any rate it’s worth tryin for, so it is.”
“A tunnel!” exclaimed Bart. “I never thought of that. Do you really think that you could do it?”
“Why not?” said Pat. “Sure I’ve seen it done. All ye’ve got to do is to lave an archway, an there it is. It’ll howld till doomsday. A tunnel is it? Sure I’d like to see meself down there with a bit of a pick, an I’d soon have the tunnel. An besides, it’s only blue clay I’d have to work in.”
“So it is,” said Bart, in great excitement. “He said blue clay. It’s only in the money-hole where the sand and gravel are.”
“An blue clay,” said Pat, “to my mind, is as aisy cuttin as chalk or chaise. It’s like cuttin into butther, so it is. Why, there’s nothin in the wide wurruld to hender you an me from goin down there an tunnelin through the blue clay from the nearest pit straight into the money-hole.”
“But what can we do about the water rushing in?” asked Bart.
“Sure an we can only try,” said Pat. “If we can’t kape the water out, we’ll give up. But we may work along so as to kape clear of the water.”
“But can we do that?” asked Bart.
“Do it?” said Pat. “Sure an what’s to hender us?”
“The other workmen couldn’t, you know,” said Bart.
“I don’t know it,” said Pat, “an you don’t, either. How do we know that they ever tried? They dug the pits to try and stop the drain; that’s what they tried to do. But we’re a goin to try to tunnel into the money-hole; an there’s all the difference in the wurruld between the two, so there is. Besides, there’s no harrum in tryin. If we can’t do it we can come back, an no harrum done.”
“Shall we tell the other fellows?” said Bart, after a thoughtful pause.
“Sorra a one of them,” said Pat. “Tell them, is it? Not me. What for? Sure only two can work in a hole at a time, an that’s me an you; an what do we want of any more? We’ll tell them after we’ve got the trisure; and thin we’ll all go halves all around, so we will; only we’ll have the glory of gettin it, an no harrum done to anybody.”
“Well, it isn’t a bad idea,” said Bart, thoughtfully. “The other fellows needn’t know. They haven’t heard the story, and perhaps wont hear it; at any rate, not before tomorrow; and it’s a crazy sort of an undertaking, and mayn’t amount to anything; so, as you say, Pat, it may be best for us to start off, us two, on our own hooks, and investigate. My idea is, for us to get off there in a quiet way, land on Oak Island, and look around to see if any of the holes are suitable.”
“Shuitable!” said Pat. “Sure they’ll all shuit, so they will, if they ain’t full of water. All we want is, a impty pit, within aisy an accessible distance of the money-hole for us to tunnel.”
“Well, that’s what we’ll have to find out first. But when can we go?”
“Tomorrow morning,” said Pat, “airly.”
“But we’re going to Aspotogon,” said Bart.
“Sure an we may slip off an let the others go by thimselves. We’ll go to Oak Island at four in the morrnin, an’ll be back by nine or tin—about the time when they’re startin. If they wait for us, all right; we may go with them there or not, just as it shuits us; that depinds on the prospects at Oak Island. But if they don’t wait for us it won’t make any difference in the wurruld, so it won’t.”
After some further conversation, the two boys resolved to carry out this proposal. They thought they could easily leave the hotel on the following morning, at the earliest light, and then go off to explore Oak Island by themselves. The others would not probably start for Aspotogon before nine or ten. If they found Oak Island affording no prospect of success in their plan, they could easily return to Chester, in time to start for Aspotogon with the others; while if, on the other hand, they did see any chance to make Pat’s tunnel, they could remain there and go to work. The others would probably think they had gone fishing, and set off without them.
The proposal of Pat was a wild and impracticable one, but to Bart it seemed easy enough. The thing that had influenced him most was the idea of a “tunnel,” of which Pat spoke so knowingly. Without having any very distinct conception of the difficulties in the way of a “tunnel,” he allowed himself to be fascinated by the very mention of it, and so flung himself headlong into the scheme.
Their determination to keep this plan a secret from the others, did not, of course, arise out of any desire to forestall them, or to seize for themselves the treasure which they supposed to be on the island. It was rather the design of achieving some exploit which should astonish their friends. It was glory, not covetousness, that animated them.
In this frame of mind, then, and with this purpose, they returned to the inn. Nothing was said about Oak Island. The landlord himself did not refer to it. Perhaps he had talked enough about it for one day, and was tired of it; or perhaps he was merely husbanding his resources, so as to tell it with full effect on the following day to those of the party who had not yet heard it; for when a man has a good story, and meets with a perfectly fresh crowd of hearers, he naturally feels unwilling to throw the story away, and prefers to tell it under the best possible circumstances. That evening they talked chiefly about the expedition to Aspotogon. Bruce, Arthur, Tom, and Phil did the talking. Bart and Pat were comparatively silent. The first four said nothing, however, about the buccaneers, for they, like the landlord, were reserving this subject for the following day. They also had all conceived the idea that Aspotogon was the very place where the treasure of the buccaneers might be buried; and this, of course, threw additional attractions around the proposed trip. The name seemed suitable to such a deed. It was sonorous and impressive; and to them it seemed to suggest all sorts of possible crimes and tragedies. Deep Cove, also, was a name not without its significance; and they fancied in this place they might find the hiding-place of the old pirates of which the governor of Sable Island had spoken.
Before retiring, they decided that they would not start till nine o’clock, which hour would be most convenient for all, especially the landlord, who protested against getting out of bed at any unusually early hour. With this understanding they all retired.
But Bart and Pat were awake and up before the dawn. Dressing themselves hastily, they quitted the house as noiselessly as possible, and went off to the promenade or square, at the end of the town. Here a number of boats were drawn up on the beach. At that early hour it was impossible to find any owner; nor did Bart or Pat feel inclined to stand on any ceremony. They selected the best of them, and thought that on their return they might apologize to the owner, whoever, he might turn out to be, and pay him for the use of the boat.
The question now was, how to find Oak Island. That the island was somewhere in the bay on this side of Chester they knew from what the landlord had told them, but which particular one it might be among the hundreds of the bay they could not imagine. The knowledge that it was covered with oaks, was the only guide they had; and with this they set forth, hoping to find the object of their search. There was a sail in the boat, and a pair of oars, and a gentle breeze was blowing; so they hoisted the sail, and slipped at a very good pace over the water. On their way they passed several islands. One of these had farm-houses on it; another had no houses at all; but still they saw nothing of those oak trees, and frames, and pumps, and other engines which marked Oak Island.
They kept on, however, sailing past some islands, and around others, until more than an hour had passed, and they both concluded that it would be far better to go ashore somewhere and ask directions. They saw a house not far away on the main land, and at once sailed in this direction. The wind still continued very moderate, and though neither Bart nor Pat knew much about navigating a boat, they managed to get along in this breeze without
any trouble whatever.
On landing, Pat remained in the boat, while Bart went to the house just mentioned. On his way he crossed the high road which here runs along the shore, winding beautifully around every curve and inlet as it encircles the bay. Bart had some difficulty in rousing the people, for it was yet very early in the morning, and they were all sound asleep. At last, however, he heard sounds of movement inside, and then a man appeared, half dressed, and rubbing his eyes.
“Good morning,” said Bart, pleasantly.
“Morn’n,” said the man, with a yawn.
“Can you tell me where I can find Oak Island?”
“Oak Island?” repeated the man, stretching himself with another yawn and looking at Bart,—”Oak Island?”
“Yes,” said Bart; “Oak Island.”
“Why, you ain’t a tryin to walk there, surely!” said the man, in some surprise.
“O, no,” said Bart; “that’s my boat just down there.”
“O,” said the man. “Wal, Oak Island’s jest over there;” and he pointed up the bay farther, in a direction which Bart had not taken at all. “You go straight up about two miles from here, an you’ll hit it. You can’t mistake it. It’s a little island with some oak trees and some stagins.”
“There’s no one there now, I suppose,” said Bart.
“No,” said the man, “not jest now. They’ve knocked off,—the last batch did,—and there ain’t likely to be no more till the next lot of fools turns up that’s got more money than brains.”
From which remark Bart gathered that the man was an unbeliever.
“You don’t seem to believe in Kidd’s treasure,” said he.
“Wal,” said the man, “I ain’t goin to say that; but I’ll tell you what I don’t believe in. I don’t believe in people a throwin of their money away into the airth an into the sea when they might be doin better with it. Yes, a throwin of it away, tryin to get at a money-box that’s out of the power of man to touch. Yes, sir; flesh and blood won’t never lay hands on Kidd’s treasure—leastways not unless there’s a sacrifice made.”
“A sacrifice!” repeated Bart, in amazement.
“Yes,” said the man. “It’s an old sayin hereabouts, as to the fact as that that thar treasure bein buried there with the sacrifice of human life, is laid under a cuss, and the cuss can’t ever be lifted, nor the money-box either, till some of the diggers kills a man. That’s the old sayin; an mind you, it’ll have to come to that. Blood must be shed!”
The man uttered these last words in a deep tone, that suggested all sorts of superstitious horrors; and from the tenor of these last remarks, Bart perceived that this man, far from being an unbeliever, as he had at first supposed, was one of the firmest possible believers, and surrounded his belief with the accompaniments of the darkest superstition. To Bart this only served to intensify the interest which he already felt in Oak Island; for he saw that the people of the neighborhood were the firmest believers in the existence of the treasure.
A few more questions followed, referring chiefly to the appearance of the island; and having at length gathered all the information that he wanted, Bart returned to the boat, and once more the two boys proceeded on their way. The place towards which the man had pointed was straight before them, and every little while grew more and more plainly defined against the line of land beyond, until at length they could see that it was an island. Nearer and nearer they drew, and gradually they saw the oak trees, which differed from the trees of the other islands. The trees stood apart more like a grove planted by man than a forest of nature’s planting. Other signs soon appeared; a rough hut, some stagings in different places, of peculiar construction, and here and there mounds of earth. There could be no doubt about it. This was the place which they sought. This was the home of the buccaneers; the haunt of Captain Kidd; the place where lay buried far down in the earth, and far beneath the sea; the plunder of the Spanish Main!
CHAPTER X.
The bows of the boat grated on the pebbled beach, and Bart and Pat stepped ashore. On landing, their first thought was to secure the boat. This was not a difficult task. Close by them was a tree, growing near the beach, and all that they had to do was to draw the boat up for a short distance, and fasten a line around the tree. After this, they stood by the boat for a little while, and looked at the island upon which they had landed.
It was small, not over a quarter of a mile across, and rose gently from the sea to a height of not more than thirty feet. Oak trees, planted at considerable intervals, grew over the surface, none of them being of any very great size. Under these there was, in some places, a thick turf, which looked as though the ground had once been cultivated, and had run out, while in other places it was rough, and rose in those mossy mounds or cradles which characterize soil that has been cleared, but has never been subject to cultivation.
As they stood here and looked at the scene before them, they saw, not very far away, a mound of earth. They had seen this from the boat as they approached, and had at once thought that it might be the very ground removed from the earth in forming one of the numerous pits. In digging these pits the earth would be raised, and thrown on one side.
“Sure that’s what I towld ye,” said Pat. “Ye know there must be a deep hole from the height of it.”
“Yes,” said Bart. “There must be a hole there. Come, let’s have a look at it.”
With these words the two started forward, and walked towards the heap of earth. As they came up, they noticed that the soil consisted of clay of a dull bluish tinge, like pale slate, and they recognized at once the bluish clay of which the landlord had spoken. The heap of earth was of considerable dimensions. They both walked up it, and on reaching the top, they saw on the other side an opening in the ground. Hurrying down towards it, they recognized in it at once one of those pits made by some one of the companies digging here. The mouth of it was about six feet long and four feet wide. The sides were stayed up by planks. They could not see far down, however, for the pit contained water, which came to within a dozen feet of the surface. How deep the pit was they could not see; but they at once conjectured that this was one of those pits mentioned by the landlord, where the diggers in search of the “drain” had broken into it, and had thus been compelled to fly from the waters that poured in upon them. This pit was flooded (as the landlord had said) from “Kidd’s drain.”
After examining this pit, they proceeded farther, and saw another mound not far away. It was just like this, of about the same dimensions, and consisting of the same bluish clay. To this they directed their steps, knowing now that another pit might be expected here, and in this expectation they were not disappointed. There was a pit here of precisely the same appearance as the one which they had just examined, stayed up in the same way around the sides by stout planks, and of about the same size. Like the other, it was also full of water. Here too, then, as they thought, the diggers had broken into the “drain,” and had flooded the pit. The occurrence of these two pits, both full of water, showed them, in a very striking and very significant manner, the difficulties that those encountered who sought to penetrate to the hidden treasure.
But the boys were curious to see some pit that might not be full of water, so as to see with their own eyes the depth of these excavations. The landlord had mentioned a hundred feet. Such a depth as that, they knew, exceeded the height of an ordinary church spire, and they both wondered whether it would be possible for them to descend. They, therefore, turned away from this pit after a slight examination, and looked around for others.
Several mounds appeared not very far away, and they at once went off to the nearest of these. Here, then, was a pit which was also flooded. The sight of this third pit, full of water, made them fear that this was the condition of all of them, and their discouragement was consequently great; however, they had not yet examined all, and two or three other mounds yet remained to be visited. They went on, therefore, to the next; and here, on reaching the pit which adjoined it, they fo
und, to their great delight, that it was dry.
Dry and deep. The hundred feet which the landlord had spoken of seemed to be a moderate estimate for this pit. Its length and width at the mouth were the same as those of the others; and the staying of the sides with stout planks was the same. On looking down, they could see no bottom. Bart took a stone and dropped it, and the time which was taken up in the fall to the bottom seemed to fully warrant the estimate above mentioned. But such a pit as this did not appear to offer much chance of descending into it. None of the pulleys or windlasses which must once have been used here to lower the workmen, or hoist up the earth, now remained. The planks used as staying were over an inch apart, and these offered occasional spaces which might possibly be used as a foothold. Still, to climb down here without some sort of a rope was not to be thought of, and though Bart and Pat were both excellent climbers, they both saw at once that this was a task beyond their powers. And they had not brought a rope with them.
On looking around once more, they saw at no very great distance a staging, which at once reminded them of the directions given them by the man on the shore, and also of the words of the landlord. This staging they had also noticed as they approached the island in the boat. They now set out for this, and reached it in a short time. This staging was about the highest point on the island, and was in the midst of an immense collection of mounds of earth, and sand, and blue clay. As they stood here, they could see several pits around them; but their attention was at once arrested by one place close by the staging. It was a hollow in the earth, shaped like a bowl, about twenty feet in diameter, and perhaps the same depth. At once the landlord’s description of the present appearance of the “money-hole” flashed across their memories.
This, then, must be the place,—this bowl-shaped hollow. There could be no doubt about it. This must be the spot chosen by the buccaneers for that pit in which they were to hide their treasure. Here beneath,—far beneath,—lay concealed the plunder of the Spanish Main. Here was that blasted circular spot, with the blighted tree, and the decayed pulley, which had revealed the secret to the first diggers. Here those two had worked who had so nearly reached the treasure, and this bowl-shaped cavity showed them what appeared to the eyes of those first diggers, when, after they had just touched the treasure, they went forth on the following morning to see their labor destroyed, and all their toil wasted.
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 63