by Jo Shawyer
“I guess that was wishful thinking, Eadie.” Ben switched the metal detector off.
The boys filled in the holes and smoothed everything down so that their parents would never know that they’d been down in the cellar. Then they brought up the ladder and the shovels and put them away. After everything was tidied up, they made some breakfast. Pancakes with lots of butter and maple syrup to make themselves feel better. Usually, they tried to eat their age in pancakes, but not today. They didn’t have the heart for it.
“Where else can we look?” Sam asked, his chin in his hands. He pushed his pancakes away and slumped down in his chair. “Maybe it’s only a legend after all.”
Eadie thought of Phoebe McNames. She had never made it into the history books, like Laura Secord had, so maybe the skirmish never happened. Maybe Phoebe was never called upon to help the soldiers. She sighed. Maybe there was no gold.
Silence.
Each of them was lost in thought. It had seemed like such a good idea. After all, when a skirmish happened on your doorstep, then gold had gone missing, how could you not search for it?
Suddenly, Ben sat up and thumped the table. The plates jumped. Sam and Eadie looked at him. “The only place we haven’t looked is Old Tucker’s place.”
“But his dogs!” Eadie protested.
“He’d tell our parents if he caught us on his land,” Sam said. “They’d be so mad.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Ben.
Chapter
Twelve
June 1814
The government wants everyone to work harder on the road building. Father and Mr. Tucker and all the men have been hauling gravel all day. They found some good gravel on Mr. Tucker’s land. The government will pay him for it. I don’t understand. If the road is made better, our soldiers will be better able to travel on it — but, so will the Americans when they come to raid us! We have had no word from John in Niagara for months now.
“Old Tucker won’t let us on his land,” Ben said. “But we could sneak into the gravel company’s property on the far side of Tucker’s field.”
“The company has a no trespassing sign up,” Sam said gloomily.
“I know that. But that’s because they don’t want anyone getting chewed up in their machinery. In that corner near Old Tucker’s field, they don’t even have a road up there or any trucks. We could stay right along the fenceline and we’d be okay. If worse came to worse, they’d just tell us to get out.”
“So, how is going along Old Tucker’s fenceline by the gravel pit going to help us?” Eadie asked, toying with her pancakes.
“Think about it. Where’s your map of the settlement pattern, Eadie?” Eadie found it in her knapsack. Ben took it and grabbed a pencil from the kitchen counter. He pushed the sticky plates out of the way and flattened out Eadie’s map on the kitchen table.
“Look, here’s your house, 100 feet back from the road. And here’s the Swains’ house, a little farther back from the road. That’s probably because it’s not an old house. And west of them is the Hanburys’ house and the field where we found the pile of rocks that we think was the foundation of a cabin. That was also about 100 feet from the road.” He drew the rock pile on Eadie’s map.
“But we can look at this a different way. Eadie’s idea was to measure the 100 feet in from Commissioners Road. But we can measure something else, too. Look how far apart each of the houses is to the next one. See? Your house, the Swains’, and the Hanburys’ are all more or less the same distance from each other, one on each property.” Ben drew lines on the map to measure the distance between the houses. “Except for Old Tucker. His house is not so old. You can see that by looking at it. So, if we go along the same distance again, west from Hanburys’, we get to Old Tucker’s fenceline.”
“Who would build a log cabin on the fenceline?” Sam asked.
“No one,” Ben said patiently. “I think that Old Tucker sold some land to the gravel company. And moved the fence.”
Eadie looked at what Ben had drawn on her map. It made sense. A row of log cabins equal distance, 100 feet or so, from the road and more or less an equal distance from each other. The first organized settlement, each family on their assigned lot of land, houses built according to the government’s rules of settlement. Just like the patterns she had seen on the maps Dave had shown her in the library. The house Old Tucker lived in now was not so old and it was about 200 feet back from the road. In fact, they could see that his property was not as wide as Jacksons’, Swains’, and Hanburys’ properties.
“Okay,” Sam said, getting his head around what Ben had said and studying the map. “We know that the distance from our house to Swains’ and from Swains’ to Hanbury’s rock pile is more or less the same. So, the same distance again, westward, should give us the site of the original Tucker log cabin.”
“Exactly!” Ben grinned. “And it would be on the fenceline, not in the centre of his property, because some Tucker at some point in time, sold off some of their land to the gravel company and moved the fence.”
Sam looked at Ben. “If there’s gold buried there, on Old Tucker’s side of the fence, could we reach it with your metal detector. Say, if we were sitting on the fence?”
“It’s worth a try,” Ben said. “We can walk in from the road on the gravel company’s side of the fence and see what’s possible.”
“Let’s go!” Eadie jumped up from the kitchen table.
The pancakes were abandoned.
The trio walked along Commissioners Road to the spot where the road began its hairpin plunge down into the valley below. They carried the metal detector, trowels, and a bucket. They then walked in from the road along the fenceline, keeping on the gravel company’s side of it. They each counted their paces and agreed with each other when they got 100 feet in from the road. If there was a log cabin, it would be here, or a little farther than the 100 feet along the fenceline.
Ben switched on the metal detector. Nothing. They began the methodical sweep on their side of the fence, walking in, farther from the road. Eadie counted their paces. At about 118 feet, they heard a beep. Experienced by now, they didn’t get too excited. And sure enough, it was a nail. But a nail was good. A nail in the middle of a field meant that there might have been a house there at one time. In another few steps they found another nail, and then a horseshoe, and then a spike.
“Okay,” Ben said. “Now we need to double back, a little farther out from the fence. Here, on the gravel company’s side of the fence.”
They did this, sweeping back across a 16-foot patch, which they estimated might be the cabin site. But all they found was a bit of fence wire.
“Right,” Eadie said. “Most of the log cabin site, if it is one, must lie more on Tucker’s side of the fence.” She looked at Ben, then at Sam.
The boys looked over the fence to Tucker’s field. Fear of Old Tucker was swiftly forgotten. The lure of gold was too strong.
“Let’s go!” Ben shouted.
“Old Tucker won’t mind us on his land if we find him some gold!”
The boys clambered over the fence with the metal detector, trowels, and bucket.
“Eadie, climb the tree and keep a look out for Old Tucker,” Sam ordered.
Sam and Ben began searching next to the fence, across the 16-foot patch where they figured the log cabin might have been. The metal detector suddenly erupted into beeps. More nails and bits of harness. When they dug, the boys also found broken bits of china — small pieces of white and blue and green that must have been someone’s dishes once, long ago. They handed them up to Eadie in the tree.
Eadie loved to find these broken bits. They made her feel connected to whoever had lived there before. She was especially excited when she came across several pieces that had words painted on them. She made out “Dym” on one piece and “1809” on another one.
“I wish that I could find enough pieces to stick them all together to make a pot, like archaeologists do,” she called down to the boys a
s she put the pieces carefully in her knapsack.
Sam and Ben were not interested in broken pottery. They dug in any spot where they got the slightest beep from the metal detector. They were looking for gold!
Next, the boys dug up a spoon. Twisted and dirty, but a spoon nonetheless. Eadie climbed down from the tree to have a closer look at it. She took out her camera and photographed it, front and back.
On the front, on the handle, was a very pretty pattern of marks and letters engraved: “A R and W.” On the back of the spoon were stamped the letters “HB.” These marks, Eadie thought. What are they called? Hallmarks? Maker’s mark? Whatever, I can look these up on the Web and find out how old the spoon is! Eadie was so absorbed in looking at the spoon that she forgot to keep an eye out for Old Tucker.
All of a sudden, there was an eruption of barking. Eadie looked up and saw Old Tucker’s dogs streaking down the grassy field. They dropped everything — the metal detector and spades — and ran for the fence. They made it over and up the tree just in the nick of time. The dogs were in a frenzy. Barking and snarling and jumping up at the fence. Then they saw Old Tucker.
“I told you not to come on my land!” He shouted after them.
Ben had left the metal detector on Old Tucker’s side of the fence. He couldn’t go home without it. His dad would never forgive him. Trespassing, too. Sam, Eadie, and Ben scrambled from the fence, higher up into the tree. They waited for Old Tucker to give them an earful.
Which he did.
Old Tucker told the dogs to shut up, then he laid in to Sam, Ben, and Eadie. He was especially hard on Ben, whom he recognized. Old Tucker stood there, short and angry, in his faded overalls and greasy, floppy hat. His teeth were rotten, his hands were dirty. He couldn’t stand trespassers, he said. “Especially city folk.” He glowered at them. They listened in silence.
But when he paused to think of something else to say, Eadie spoke up.
“Mr. Tucker,” she said boldly, “you haven’t asked us why we’re searching your field with a metal detector.”
Old Tucker scowled. “Well? Why are you?”
Eadie gave him her sweetest smile. “We’re searching for gold. Lost gold. The Paymaster’s Gold. You must know the legend, Mr. Tucker.”
Old Tucker hesitated. He crossed his tanned and muscled arms across his barrel chest and glared at Eadie. “Of course I know the Legend of the Paymaster’s Gold. Everyone who grew up around here knows it.”
Eadie was encouraged. She just might talk him around. “We figured out that this might have been the site of a settler’s cabin, 100 feet from the road, and if the cabin was here in 1813, the paymaster might have hidden the gold here.”
“I could’ve told you that the log cabin was here, if you’d asked me,” Old Tucker grumped. He stood a little straighter and spoke proudly. “It’s only Tuckers have ever been on this land. Right from the beginning of settlement.”
“When was that?”asked Sam.
“Tuckers settled here in 1809 and filed for our grant in 1829. We’ve still got that paper. We’re one of the first settlers in this whole area.”
Sam and Eadie and Ben gave a whoop.
“1809! Perfect!” Eadie felt goosebumps of excitement.
“We’ve got it!” Sam punched Ben in glee.
“Awesome!” Ben couldn’t believe it.
“Now see here—”Old Tucker began.
But Eadie smiled again. “If you let us check this cabin site with our metal detector, Mr. Tucker, we might find the gold. See, we’ve already found a silver spoon.”
Eadie leaned down from the tree and held it out to him. He took it with a look of amazement. “Well, I never.” He held it in the palm of his grimy hand and turned it over and over.
“Do you know anything about the spoon?” Eadie asked. “Is there any family history about it? As far as I can make out, the initials on it are A, R, and W.”
“I don’t rightly know about the dates, but there was an Annie Wareham who married into the Tuckers early on. Maybe it’s connected with her.”
Eadie wanted to keep Old Tucker talking. “Where did the Tuckers come from?”
“England. Some place called Dimmock.”
Sam was becoming impatient with all this chatter.
“We’re looking for the gold, Mr. Tucker,” Sam reminded him.
Old Tucker looked up sharply. “So you think you’ll find the gold here?”
“Yes,” Sam said. But he was worried that if they found the gold on Old Tucker’s land, Old Tucker would claim it all for himself. After all their work. He had to think quickly.
“But if it’s the paymaster’s gold, Mr. Tucker, then we get to split it. Finders Keepers. Half to you because it’s on your land. And half to us because we found it.”
Eadie and Ben held their breath. Then Eadie saw a small smile play at the corner of Old Tucker’s mouth and a twinkle in his eye.
“I see,” he said gruffly, “that’s the deal, is it?”
Sam held his nerve, “Yes, sir. That’s the deal. Fifty-fifty.”
There was a long silence while Old Tucker looked first at Sam, then at the metal detector, and, finally, at the silver spoon in his hand. Then he raised his eyes, looked at Sam, and said, “Fair enough then. Get on with it.”
“Thank you!” The trio chimed in unison.
“And, please, Mr. Tucker, can you call off your dogs?” Ben added.
Chapter
Thirteen
August 31, 1814
Terrible news! There was a skirmish on the big hill last night and Captain Carroll was killed! War is so cruel. The captain was so handsome and brave and kind. We are all upset and Lucy and I cannot stop crying. It was that horrible Andrew Westbrook who led seventy American Rangers in a raid to Oxford, east of here. They were stealing cattle and money and captured Captain Carroll. Captain Rapelje organized our militia and ambushed the Americans on the hill. We heard the guns! The wounded were brought to Tuckers’ and to us, so we were up all night. Andrew Westbrook and the Americans escaped into the woods. He will come back and raid the settlers again. Today Lucy and I are going to search on the hill to see if Westbrook’s men dropped anything — like pouches of ammunition or purses of stolen money. I wish the war was over. I am tired of being frightened.
Old Tucker didn’t hang around to watch them work. He called his dogs and strode off across the field toward his house.
“Hey, Sam, good work!” Ben said.”We’ve got a deal! And Eadie, too. You really turned Old Tucker around!”
Eadie smiled.
Once again, they set to work. They paced out the boundaries of the 16-by-20-foot cabin site, at least, as far as they were able to estimate it. Then they began the slow and methodical search with the metal detector. They were kept very busy. Lots of metal bits and another spoon. Then three soldier’s buttons! That gave them hope. A buckle from a harness, an old cooking pot, and two rusty door hinges came next. It was a lot of digging. Every moment of excitement when they got a response from the metal detector was followed by a blow of disappointment when they dug and didn’t find gold.
Only Eadie got pleasure from the hunt. She loved finding all the leftover bits of a household long gone: pieces of broken china, a tiny medicine bottle of dark brown glass, handmade nails, a buckle, three buttons made of pottery. Eadie had visited pioneer museums, and this was like bringing a museum to life. She could imagine the log cabin in her mind’s eye, right down to the roughly made furniture. Nothing fancy, a bench or two, a solid wooden table. The mother of the house thumping bread dough and stirring a stew pot over the fire on the hearth. Eadie thought of the two spoons they had found. So precious, probably brought from England. A treasure, a keepsake. A memory of home.
They were hot and tired and dirty and hungry. They took a break and ate all the energy bars that Eadie had in her knapsack. Ben smeared himself with sunscreen again. But they couldn’t stop. Old Tucker’s site was their last hope of finding the gold. They had to keep at it. What if Old T
ucker changed his mind and came back and chased them off his property?
They had completed sweeping across the whole width of the cabin site except for one corner. By now they were feeling a little dejected. Doubts had begun to creep in. They had felt so good about finding the cabin site. It had seemed such a sure way to find the gold. And Old Tucker had confirmed that the cabin had been built in 1809.
Then why couldn’t they find the gold?
Ben was just about to suggest that they leave it for another day and go find something to eat besides power bars when the metal detector reacted. Loud and clear. More so than anywhere else on the site. They looked at each other hopefully. Ben threw down the metal detector and he and Eadie helped Sam dig.
It was buried quite deep. They felt their trowels hit against something that resisted. It was pieces of wood, soft and rotten. And then they heard a chinking sound. Metal!
“Careful!” Ben said. “Maybe the box has rotted away.” They abandoned the trowels and began to dig with their hands, running their fingers through the earth. Every handful yielded a reward.
Coins! Some big. Some small. But they were dirty and dull. Eadie picked up an old plastic container — modern rubbish, blown against the fence — and poured her bottled water into it. She dipped the coins into the water to wash the soil away.
It was magic.
“Gold!”
“Look at that!”
“I can’t believe this is happening!”
Some of the coins shone brightly. Others remained dull. Silver? Copper? Some were big and some were small. Some appeared to be English but others seemed more foreign.
“Is this the paymaster’s gold, do you think?” Ben asked anxiously.
“The box has rotted away. It’s hard to tell if it’s an official paymaster’s box,” Sam said.