“Now I’m ready,” said John after a second, and they began to dig vigorously.
It proved warm work, and shortly each in silence took off his coat and laid it with the mineral-rod. Half an hour passed and there was a decided slackening in the rate of digging. Whether they were beginning to doubt or not, nothing could be said. At length Pete’s shovel struck something. He drove it into the same spot for another shovelful. As it struck he heard a hollow thud. Then John struck it with his shovel and again came the same hollow sound.
There was something here surely, each thought, yet neither of them spoke. They were unable to make out exactly what it was, other than wood of some sort, for their shovels cut into it as they struck it. But every time there came the hollow sound.
John began to widen the hole they were digging, and Pete soon noticed this, and followed John’s example.
The wind now blew a strong breeze, forit had gradually risen as the night had progressed.
Threatening clouds were bunching up and drifting across the sky. All the signs indicated a coming southeasterly storm, and it would likely be severe while it lasted.
Both men thought of this, for they were weatherwise. Still they might dig on two hours longer if necessary.
After widening the hole, they dug toward the centre, where they had struck the wood, and then down by the mysterious dark object. The sky was becoming more obscured and they could not see so well, even though the pupils of their eyes were dilated to the utmost. They dug farther down beside it. John reached a place where he got his shovel underside and began to pry. Something gave way slightly. He dug again, and got his shovel farther under and pried harder. The dark object began to crack. Pete seized hold of it with both hands andexerted all his strength. It gave way and they rolled it out of the hole. Then they examined it with their hands, feeling it all over. It was the hollow stump of a tree. John ran his arm to the bottom of the hole several times, but took out nothing but sand.
He stood a moment contemplating and then with his foot he pushed it angrily back into the hole. Quickly he turned, gathered up the coats and his shovel, and set off for the boat. Pete followed, and not a word was uttered.
They got their boat under way, each maintaining silence. The wind was free. John let the sheet run, and they swept out into the broad bay. The waves ran high. Their boat, as if a thing of life and spirit, would poise on the top of a wave while its crest broke with a rushing sound, and then drop gradually behind into its trough. Then the next wave would come up astern and bear them up in the same manner. And so their little boat rode eachwave and swept onward. The rhythmic movement of the boat and waves had a quieting and solacing effect upon these disappointed argonauts. Half-way across, Pete spoke and said, “John, that hillock was covered with brier-bushes, you remember. That must have been a brier that pulled down the end of the rod.”
John made no reply to this, but ten minutes later he broke his silence:
“Pete,” he said suddenly, “hand me that stone forward with the rope tied to it. Now give me that old coat. No, hold on! You come here and steer.”
He moved forward, then tied the stone tightly to the old coat. Standing up, he threw the bundle from him with all his might, saying as he did so, “There goes that cussed thing overboard. I wish to thunder I had the money I put into that darned old granny’s hands six weeks ago.”
Having proved his dream, John returned to his work in the mill. He workedthere contentedly several years longer. He liked the place. The merry rumble, the stream always rushing underneath, turning the wheels and slipping on down the creek and spreading out into the broad bay. And the tons and tons of paper that were made and kept going off somewhere John took greater pride in than ever.
Watch Hill is a prominent hill on the Beach opposite Patchogue.
Quanch is a landing-place on the Beach opposite Otis’s Point.
Between the years 1710 and 1720 as many as twenty whales were taken in a single season by the crews on the Beach.
Fiddleton is a mile and a half west of Quanch.
Pickety Rough is a strip of beach east of Point o’ Woods, so called because of the prickly growth of bushes there.
“The Gore in the Hills” was a name given to a tract of land near Yaphank, over which a dispute arose in the last century. This dispute was settled by arbitration in 1753.
“Squasux”—the Indian name for the landing on Carman’s River, at the end of the Brookhaven Neck road.
The last owner of the house here alluded to was the late Joseph Carman.
“The Inlet” referred to began to close up in the early part of this century. Small coasting vessels sailed out of this inlet as late as 1816. The inlet kept filling in, however, and the small channel was at last blocked by a brig which went ashore at the mouth of it. Soon after the channel filled up completely. This brig was loaded with grindstones, and on this account was popularly called the “Grindstone Brig.” This spot of beach has been known ever since as “Old Inlet.” It is opposite the extreme eastern end of Bellport.
This incident actually occurred as here related.
Between the years 1780 and 1785 the persecution of Judge William Smith by certain townspeople was so great that he was compelled, in order to save his life, to give up a part of his estate to them.
His barns were burned to the ground, with a loss of thirty horses, and all his orchards were girdled. The burning of his dwelling was intended, but for some cause this intention was not carried out.
He had, moreover, a narrow escape from beingshot through his bedroom window as he was going to bed. It so happened that his wife was all the time between him and the window, and the three men outside could not cover him with their muskets without covering her at the same time.
Judge William Smith lived at the Manor of St. George (Smith’s Point) where the late Egbert Tangier Smith resided nearly the whole of his life.
The landing, now a thing of the past, was on the shore now embraced in Wood Acres—the estate of Mr. George T. Lyman at Bellport.
Clam Hollow is situated midway between Bellport and Brookhaven. Within the past forty years the heavy woods have been cut down, the road made somewhat straighter, the hollow raised several feet, and the western hill cut down.
Brewster’s Brook, previously called Dayton’s Brook, but known for the past sixty years as Osborn’s Brook, is in the eastern part of Bellport at the foot of the hill.
The Mills was the old name for South Haven because of the grist and saw mills situated there at the foot of the pond.
“Near Southampton,” etc., about a mile west of “St. Andrews by the Sea.”
After the breaking up of the ship, it was the custom of certain farmers in the fall, when the neap tides would permit, to plow along the shore, and the waves cutting over the upturned furrows would wash out these Spanish coins.
The present residence alluded to was known for a long time as the Corse Place.
Champlin’s stood where the South Side Club House now stands.
“Inlet near the Manor of St. George.” Seenote to page 62.
“Penataquit”—an Indian word—the early post-office name of Bay Shore.
Long Cove is about three-quarters of a mile east of Watch Hill.