Bart and Pat take a Walk.—A Conversation.—Pat makes a Suggestion.—Bart adopts it.—A Tunnel to the Treasure of the Sea.—A Plot kepi secret from the others.—Plans for Aspotogon.—Keeping their own Council.—Bart and Pat set forth.—Stealing a Boat.—The Search for the Treasure Island.—The Intelligent Native.—A new Way of getting at the Treasure.—Blood and Thunder!—Once more on the Way.—The Pirates’ Isle!THE landlord’s story had produced a very profound impression upon the minds of the boys, and the reiterated emphasis which he placed upon the treasure supposed to be buried there did not fail to kindle their imaginations to a wonderful degree. But together with this excitement, and astonishment at the magnitude of the supposed treasure, there were also other feelings, which latter tended to repel them as much as the former tended to attract them. These feelings consisted of discouragement and disappointment, at learning the insuportable difficulties that lay in in the way, and at hearing the story of repeated failures. Efforts had been made, as they now know, far greater than any which were possible to their feeble arms; and in every case the money diggers, whether digging in person or by deputy, had failed utterly and miserably, each one only learning of some new difficulty which necessitated still more arduous toils.
As the landlord strolled off, Bart and Pat moved away also up the hill towards the back part of the town; and here they sat on a secluded grassy slope, looking down into the back bay, whose blue waters lay at their feet.
“Sure an it’s a great thing entirely, so it is,” said Pat, “an that’s all about it.”
“I hadn’t any idea,” said Bart, “that people knew so much about it I didn’t imagine that any body had tried to dig there.”
“Sure an it’s natural enough for them to do that same, if they thought there was money in it.”
“Of course it was, an that’s the very thing we haven’t been taking into account.”
“Faith, an that same’s true for you, thin; niver a bit did we take it into account. Haven’t we been making a wonderful secret of it, when all the wurruld knows it like A, B, C.”
“Yes, and what’s worse, at this very moment they are sending out agents in all directions, all over the province, I dare say, to try to get people to take stock in the new mining company. Why, every body must know all about Oak Inland. I don’t see how we never heard of it before.”
“Deed, thin, an I think they must have kept it all to thimselves here in Cheater, so I do, or else we’d have heard some talk about it at school, so we would; an if there’s any talk about it now through the country, it’s something new entirely, so it is, and is the doin of this new company, sure.”
“I don’t see what we can do,” said Bart, in a dejected tone; “we can’t do a single thing.”
“Sure, thin,” said Pat, “but it’s meself that’s boon thinkin different; an I don’t know now but what the chances for us are better thin they were before.”
“Chances for us better? What in the world do you mean by that?” asked Bart, in surprise.
“Sure an it’s plain enough. Ye see that treasure was a hundred feet an more under ground, an so it was clane beyond anything that we could do But these companies have been a workin, an a diggin, an a pumpin, an a borin holes all about, an we’ve got that much of the work done.”
“Yes, but what good ’ll that do us? These holes weren’t any good to the companies. They couldn’t get to the money-hole, after all.”
“Yis, but sure an may be they didn’t go to work the right way.”
“O, I dare say they did all that could be done; and I don’t see how anybody could do any more, except they get a steam engine, the way they ’re going to do.”
“O, sure an that’s all very well; but still, whin the holes ere already bored, the hardest of the work’s done; an a handy boy might be more use than a stame ingin, so he might. Sore an I’d like to see meself at the bottom of one of thim pits that’s nearest to the money-hole. I’d make a grab for the trisure, so I would.”
“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 undor there, an git at the money-box. At any rate it’s worth tryin for, so it is.”
“A tunnol!” 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 have on archway, an there it is. It’ll howld till doomsday. A tunnol 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 Burt, 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 wurrld to hender you an me from goin down there an tannelin through the blue day 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, well 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 follows?” 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 wont 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 well have the glory of gettin it, an no harruum 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 won’t hear it; at any rate, not before to-morrow; 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 accissible 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?”
“To-morrow 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 toll 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!
The Isle of the Pirates.—The Oaks and the Mounds.—A Survey.—The flooded Pits.—The empty Pit.—The Staying.—The Money-hole.—The Hut and its Contents.—The Stone with the Inscription.—Preparations for a Descent.—The Rope and the Beam.—Pat’s Plan with the Pickaxe.—Bart goes down.—All right.—Come along.—Pat goes down.—Terrific Result. The Sword of Damocles.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 found, 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.
Around this were the signs of other labors, and the unmistakable traces of all the toilers, who in succession had labored here. Some pits had caved in, like the original “money-hole.” Others had filled with water. The sand, gravel, and clay, that had been drawn up out of these various excavations, covered a large space. Close by a pit, which lay nearest to the “money-hole,” rose the staging which had attracted them. On examining this, its purpose was at once evident. It was erected so as to allow of the working of pumps by horse-power. The circle was there which the horses traversed, and all the machinery was in perfect order. They understood the purpose of this machine at once from the landlord’s story. It had been intended to reach the bottom of the “money-hole” by a new pit, and this pit was to be kept dry by pumping. The pit must evidently be the one which immediately adjoined the “money-hole.” But how completely this plan had failed, was now evident to them from this pit itself, which, like the others that they had first seen, was full of water. This pit had proved of no avail against “Kidd’s drain.” Horse-power had been weak against the tides of the sea. Here was the melancholy result—a failure complete and utter; a pit flooded; engines useless; costly works deserted. Would the attempt ever be made again? or if so, would steam succeed when pitted against the waters of the ocean?
They went down into the bowl-shaped cavity which marked the “money-hole,”—they did so cautiously, for they had vague fears of quicksand. But their fears were idle. The ground seemed as hard and as solid as on any other part of the island. They stood there, and stamped, and jumped, but the firm soil yielded not. They could scarcely believe that this was the very central point affected by the waters of the sea. And yet this must be so, for this was the point to which the “drain” had been directed, and far down the waters guarded the treasure from the hand of man.
After remaining here for a time, they emerged from the cavity, and their attention was next attracted by a hut not far away. To this they directed their steps. They found the door wide open, and entered. Inside they saw two rooms divided by a board partition, with a chimney rising in the middle. This had been the place where the workmen lived, for signs of these occupants were still visible around. The two rooms were filled with spades, and chains, and boxes, and a miscellaneous collection of articles that had probably been used by the last excavators, and had been left here in anticipation of further use. Among these they saw a quantity of ropes in coils of different sizes; and they saw at once that if they wished to go down into any one of the pits, a way of descending was now supplied.
The chimney at once suggested to their minds the remarks of the landlord about the stone with the inscription. To the boys that stone seemed the most important part of the whole story, and offered a more direct evidence as to its truth than anything else. They wished to see it, and judge for themselves. They accordingly examined the chimney on every side, but, to their very great disappointment, could not see anything of the kind. At length Bart found a place in the chimney from which a portion seemed to have been detached, and he at once declared that this must have been the place where the stone was, and that it had probably been taken away, so as to be made use of for the purpose of affecting the public mind, and inducing people to take stock in the new company.
The sight of the ropes at once awakened within them a desire to put in practice their intention of descending into one of the pits. It did not seem to them to be dangerous. Bart was as active as a cat in climbing, especially when he had anything to do with ropes; while Pat, though not equal to him in this respect, was still quite able to do any ordinary work of the kind. One of the pits, as they had seen, was dry, but it was a little too far away. They wished to find one which was rather nearer the “money-hole,” where there might be some chance of putting into practice Pat’s idea about the tunnel. No thought of danger entered into their minds, no dread of the treacherous waters which had broken through into the other holes, and flooded them. They prepared to put their scheme into execution as calmly as if it was no more than climbing a tree.
But first they must seek a pit nearer the “money-hole;” and with this intention they went back to that central spot, where they examined the pits in its neighborhood. To their great joy they soon found one. It was on the side opposite to that where the staging had been erected, and was quite dry. This they knew by dropping stones down, and listening to the sound made when they struck. All of them fell with a dull thud, and without any splashing noise, such as would have been produced had water been there.
This at once decided them in favor of the pit just mentioned: and the next thing was, how to arrange the rope so as to make the descent. One could not lower the other; and if such a thing had been possible, neither one would have been willing to stay up. There was therefore nothing for them to do but to adopt the simple plan of climbing down by means of a rope secured to the top. First of all they had to select the rope. This they did without much delay. Among the various coils in the hut, one seemed suitable from size and quality. It had been used, like all the others; it seemed perfectly strong enough; and it was also sufficiently soft and smooth to the hands. This coil was therefore selected and brought to the place. A stone was quickly attached to one end, and was thrown down. The rope fell all the way to the bottom without being more than half expended. The rest of the coil lay at the edge of the pit.
And now how were they to secure this, so as to descend? Something was needed which might bear their weight. At first they thought of tying the upper part of the rope to one of the planks which formed the staying of the sides of the pit; but this did not seem strong enough. They then went off to hunt up something. In the house there was a crowbar, which was strong enough, yet not long enough, to satisfy them. But outside of the house there was a large beam, fully twelve feet long and eight inches thick. This seemed to be the very thing. It was apparently sound and strong, and, as far as they could see, was quite able to support ten times the weight to which it would be subjected. This beam therefore was chosen without the slightest hesitation, and Bart and Pat, taking it up in their arms, carried it to the mouth of the pit; then they laid it across, and tied the rope about it as securely as possible.
All now seemed perfectly safe, and nothing remained but to make the descent. Bart went first. The planks used for staying around the sides of the pit were far enough apart to offer here and there interstices in which the feet might be inserted, though in many of these places the earth bulged through so as to prevent a foothold. They thus afforded assistance; and Bart, as he began his descent, availed himself of it. As he went down, Pat watched him anxiously from above. Before his head had disappeared, he said,—
“O, by the way, Pat! throw down that pickaxe.”
For Pat had brought a pickaxe from the hut, in order to make his tunnel; and it was now lying on the ground, close by.
“Sure, but I was goin to wait till you got down.”
“What! and throw it on my head! No, thank you.”
“Sure an I niver thought of that at all at all,” said Pat; “and it’s lucky for you that you thought of it just now.”
With these words Pat dropped the pickaxe into the pit, and it fell with a dull thud far down at the bottom.
Bart now continued his descent, and Pat watched him all the way. At length a voice came up from far below,—
“All right! Come along!”
Upon this Pat descended, and went down cautiously and carefully, clinging with feet and hands to the rope and to the sides of the pit. He was not so dexterous as Bart, and once or twice he lost his foothold on the side of the pit, and slid for several feet, the rope cutting his hands; but still he kept on, for Bart was waiting for him, and encouraging him.
At length, when about thirty feet from the bottom, where Bart was standing, he found a place where he could stick his foot, and waited for a moment to look down through the darkness. He could see nothing. As he looked, his foot slipped from the place, and he fell with a jerk, the rope sliding painfully through his chafed hands. At that very instant it seemed to him that the rope itself was falling. From above there came a dull creaking sound, and from below a cry of horror burst from Bart. At that instant, Pat’s feet touched the bottom of the pit.
Bart grasped his arm convulsively, and pointed upward.
“The beam! the beam!” he almost screamed. “It’s broke. O, what shall we do!”
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Pat looked up; and there, clearly defined against the sky, he saw the beam around which the rope was fastened, no longer lying straight across the mouth of the pit, but sagging down in the middle at a sharp angle. It had been rotten in the middle. It had cracked at that last jerk occasioned by his fall from his foothold; and it now hung broken midway, still clinging together by a few fibres, but suspended there above them, like the sword of Damocles, as if by a single hair, and threatening every instant to fall and crush them.
The rope and the beam had both been rotten, and the jerk which had been given when Pat lost his foothold had cracked the one and broken the other. There, about thirty feet above them, hung the end of the rope where it had parted. The rest of it was still in Pat’s hands.
The missing Ones.—What has become of them?—Theories about Bart and Pat.—The Decision.—A new Disappointment, and a very serious one.—A bad Substitute.—The Voyage to Aspotogon.—The mysterious Cove.—A romantic Spot.—Picturesque Scenery.—Speculations about the Buccaneers.—The very Place.—The Knoll.—New Themes.—The Mound over the Treasure of the Seas.—Plans to get at said Treasure.—A most unpleasant Discovery.—Their Plans knocked in the Head.—New Plans, by which to avoid all Difficulties.THE other boys rose that morning at the usual hour, and descended leisurely to breakfast. The absence of Bart and Pat was noticed and commented on. It was supposed, however, that they had gone off somewhere to get up an appetite for breakfast, and that they would be along before the meal was over. Time passed, and the breakfast was ended; but still no signs appeared of the absentees. It was now nearly time to start, and they all strolled down to the wharf where the Antelope was, thinking that the two boys might possibly be there. On reaching the place they looked around, but saw no signs of them. Captain Corbet had not seen them, nor had Solomon. Everything was ready, and it was only a few minutes of the time.
“It’s queer where those fellows can have gone to,” said Bruce.
“They’ve gone on a walk, of course,” said Arthur; “and I dare say they’ve gone farther than they intended.”
“O, they’ll be along soon,” said Phil, “and won’t they be half starved? Methinks!”
“It’s a strange thing,” said Tom, “that they should have slipped off in this way. No one knows anything about them. No one at the inn saw them go out. They must have got up precious early.”
“Well, they’re both rather early risers,” said Arthur; “and they may have gone off fishing.”
“I dare say they have,” said Bruce. “Bart is crazy about fishing, and if he has got one solitary bite, he’ll give up the expedition to Aspotogon.”
“And Pat’s as bad, every bit,” said Phil. “Depend upon it, those two have gone out to catch fish for breakfast, and won’t be back till somewhere about evening.”
“For my part,” said Tom, “I shouldn’t wonder if they’ve both backed out deliberately.”
“Backed out?”
“Yes. I don’t believe they cared about going to Aspotogon.”
“Pooh! nonsense! What makes you think that?”
“Why, last evening I noticed that they didn’t say a single word. Both of those fellows were as muni as mice, and all the rest of us were in full cry about the expedition. Depend upon it, they didn’t want to go, and have backed out. They didn’t want to say anything about it, for fear we’d tease them to come, but quietly dropped off, leaving us to go without them. O, that’s the way, beyond a doubt.”
“Now that you mention it, Tom,” said Phil, “I do remember that they didn’t say anything last night, neither of them.”
“Neither did they,” said Arthur.
“Pact,” said Bruce; “it looks very much as if they had talked the matter over, and concluded to back out in this quiet way; and I don’t know but what they have concocted some scheme of their own.”
“O, some fishing scheme, of course. Bart was crazy about it, you know, and he’s persuaded Pat to go with him.”
“Well, in that case we needn’t wait.”
“O, we may as well hang on till ten—in case they should turn up after all.”
Such was the opinion, then, to which the other boys came, about the disappearance of Bart and Pat. It was a perfectly natural one under the circumstances. Bart and Pat were distinguished above all things for their fondness for fishing; their silence during the conversation of the preceding evening really made it seem as though they had no desire to go to Aspotogon, but had some plan of their own. This plan seemed to the boys to be undoubtedly a fishing expedition. There was, therefore, not the slightest feeling of uneasiness in the mind of any of them, nor did even Captain Corbet, who had listened to the conversation, imagine that there was any cause for alarm. To have imagined danger to them in such a place as this, on dry ground, in a civilized country, was out of the question. Notwithstanding this conviction, they thought it possible, however, that the two might yet return in time, and therefore they decided to wait for them till ten.
The conversation about Bart and Pat was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of the landlord, who brought them another disappointment. He told them that important business had most unexpectedly required him to go up the country for twenty miles or so, and that he should not be able to accompany them. He expressed the greatest possible regret, and the boys expressed still more. They at once offered to postpone their expedition till the following day; but the landlord was not certain whether he should be back by that time or not, and advised them to go without him. He said a friend of his would go, who knew the whole country, and could tell them all that they wanted to know about it.
Great was the disappointment of the boys at this unexpected occurrence. They had particularly wished to have the landlord’s company, for reasons already stated. He was so genial, so communicative, and so destitute of inquisitiveness, that he seemed the very man whom they might be able to pump to their hearts’ content, without making their purpose apparent to him. One great charm of the expedition lay in their belief that Aspotogon and Deep Cove had been the haunts of the buccaneers, and that the landlord would show them the traditionary place where the treasure had been deposited. They did not think that another man could supply his place; and when, shortly after, the landlord brought his friend along, they were sure of it. For the friend, whose name the landlord gave as Turnbull, was a heavy, dull-looking man, and the last in the world whom they would have chosen in the landlord’s place. However, there was no help for it. It was useless to postpone it, and, consequently, at ten o’clock the Antelope started on her voyage.
On emerging from the little harbor of Chester into the bay, the scene that presented itself was beautiful in the extreme. Much of it was familiar to their eyes, owing to their previous cruise about the bay on the first day of their arrival; but they now saw it under a somewhat different aspect.
On one side arose an island, bare of trees, and covered with grass, of no great size, but conspicuous from its position. In its neighborhood were other islands, some all wooded from the shore to the summit, others showing green meadows peeping forth from encircling foliage. Before them spread the shores of Tancook, all green with verdure, dotted with white houses, and showing, here and there, the darker hue of forest trees, amid the green, grassy meadows. Beyond this, and far out to sea, was Ironbound, which, from this distance, looked dark and repellent. It was more wooded than the other islands, and did not seem popular as a dwelling-place. Naturally so, for at that distance out, it was exposed to the storms and the fogs of the ocean, while those islands within the bay were in the possession of a far more genial soil and climate. On the left, the coast-line ran on beyond a neighboring point, till it terminated in a distant headland; and here, on that line of coast, several miles this side of the headland, the land arose to a wooded eminence, which was no other than the very place which they were seeking—Aspotogon.
The boys were disappointed, for they had expected something much higher. It did not seem to them to be more than a very ordinary hill, nor did it rise very high above the level of the surrounding land. Still, they were willing to be pleased, and therefore tried to think that it might really be much higher than it seemed.
The line of coast ran on, showing cleared fields along the shore, which, farther back, were succeeded by wooded slopes. In this line of shore there did not appear the slightest opening, nor could they imagine how it was possible for a schooner to reach the base of Aspotogon. That there was a passage, however, they were again and again assured by Turnbull, who, though not at all inclined to give any information, was yet capable of answering direct questions, and telling the names of places. The existence of a cove, or strait, in such a place, where there seemed nothing but an unbroken line of coast, gave additional strength to that fancy in which the boys had already been indulging, and made them think that this place, so completely hidden, must be, above all others, the place once chosen as a secure retreat by the buccaneers. This feeling gained strength as they went on. The distance was not far. The wind was fair. The Antelope did her best, and so they gradually drew nearer and nearer. Still, no sign appeared of any opening, nor could they make out any place where an opening might be likely to be found. At last Turnbull remarked that this was the place, and that the Antelope would have to anchor here, as it would be inconvenient, in this wind, to get out of Deep Cove if they were to enter it in the schooner. Down went the Antelope’s anchor, and the boat was hauled up alongside.
They were not more than a quarter of a mile from the shore. Deep Cove was there,—for so Turnbull said,—and they were about to visit it, yet there was still no more appearance of any opening than before. The shore seemed to run on without any break, and the boys sought in vain to find some place into which a boat might go; but the boat was ready, and this mystery was soon to be solved.
They drew very near to the shore before the long-sought-for opening appeared. The opening was at such an angle that it could not be detected from the direction in which they had approached, and the curve made by the cove was of such a kind that it was difficult to detect it from any direction. On entering it they saw that it was deep and spacious, with the shore on one side covered with forest trees, and on the other side cleared. Rowing on a little farther, the cove curved, and the cleared land was left behind. Now a scene of grandeur appeared. The cove ran between lofty heights, which bordered it, now with precipitous rocky cliffs, now with steep slopes, heavily wooded. After rowing a few hundred yards, it seemed as though they were shut out from all the world. Behind and before there was a circle of hills, and they seemed to be rather upon the bosom of some sequestered lake than upon an inlet of the sea close by the waters of the stormy Atlantic.
They still moved on, and as they advanced, the scenery retained the same general features, possessing an air of wild and romantic grandeur of the most striking description. At length they came to a place where the cove widened into a smooth basin, surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills. The water was as smooth as glass, and as black as ink. This, they were informed, was the head of the cove; and straight in front of them was the base of Aspotogon, which was bathed by these waters. The boat approached a grassy knoll close by this, and the boys all got out.
Here, then, the mystery was solved, for they had come up by this passage-way to Aspotogon itself. Close beside them there was a steep declivity, bare of trees just here, and covered with stones. Far up trees began, and hid the summit of the hill.
The picturesque beauty of this place, the deep, black water, the high, encircling hills, the sombre, primeval forests, the utter seclusion, all produced a profound impression upon the minds of the boys, who always were alive to the beauties of nature, and who here had something in addition to natural beauty. For their thoughts turned at once to that which had been for days the supreme subject in their minds—the treasure of the buccaneers. Was not this the haunt of the pirates spoken of by the governor of Sable Island. They all felt sure that it must be. No better place than this could be found in all the world. Here was a hiding-place without a parallel. Here a vessel might pass from the outer seas into absolute seclusion, and find a haven safe from all storms, shut in by high hills. Here, too, was a place to bury their treasure, if such was their desire; and, if the governor of Sable Island had spoken the truth, the place best fitted to receive the pirate’s deposit must be the very knoll on which they were standing.
Here it was, on this spot, that they regretted most deeply the absence of the landlord. It was this knoll, above all things, that seemed to them to contain the plunder of the Spanish Main, and they felt sure that, if the landlord had been here, he would have told them all about it, and confirmed their suspicions. But he was not here, and his substitute Turnbull was of no use whatever. He either could or would tell them nothing. He would only answer in monosyllables, and the boys, after a fruitless effort to draw him out on the subject of Deep Cove and its local traditions, gave up the task in despair. They could only console themselves by the thought that they could pump the landlord on their return to Chester, and then, if their suspicions were confirmed, they could visit the place again, and dig for the buried treasure.
And what a glorious place it was to dig, if this indeed was the place which they supposed it to be! How completely shut out it was from all observation. Here they might dig to their hearts’ content, and nobody would know it. Perhaps the treasure was not very far down. The knoll rose not more than ten feet or so above the sea. Some of them, indeed, thought that the whole knoll was the work of the pirates, and was neither more nor less than the mound of earth with which they had covered up their treasure. This view was even more charming than the other, and they went about it on every side, examining it all over, and scrutinizing it most carefully.
Suddenly Tom made a discovery of a very unpleasant character. As he wandered about, he found himself, all at once, upon a regular carriage road. It was not a first-class road by any means, but it was a road for wheeled vehicles, and, from its appearance, was evidently in constant use. The sight of this created at once a deep disappointment, in which all the others shared as soon as they saw it. They found that the seclusion of the place was broken up. To dig for gold here, by the side of a public road, would be a difficult matter, and a very different thing from what they had at first supposed. So completely had their minds been impressed by the apparent seclusion of Deep Cove, that they had forgotten all about the houses and settlements which they had seen, only a short time before, on the outer coast. Yet these settlements were only a little distance away, and this was, no doubt, the road that joined them together, which had to make the circuit of Deep Cove, in order to effect a connection.
The boys now seated themselves apart, out of hearing of Turnbull, in order to discuss the situation.
“There can’t be any doubt,” said Tom, “that this is the mound made by the pirates to cover up their treasure. They didn’t dig a hole, but covered up the treasure by piling earth over it.”
“That’s about it,” said ‘Phil; “and what’s more, I don’t believe that we’ll have to go very far down, either.”
“I wonder if any one has ever tried it,” said Arthur.
“I don’t believe it,” said Tom. “There isn’t the slightest mark on the place.”
“But wouldn’t people have tried it, if it is really the place?”
“Perhaps they don’t know the actual place; and we may be the first who ever suspected this mound. It isn’t impossible.”
“No; it may be that the people here are too dull; or it may be just a happy guess of ours, which has never occurred to any one else.”
“And this miserable road here,” said Tom, dolefully, “is going to spoil all.”
“I wonder if we couldn’t manage to dig, in spite of the road.”
“How?”
“Why, we might stick up the sail of the Antelope, and make a big tent, and pretend to be fishing, or roughing it.”
“Well, there may be something in that.”
“Something! Of course there’s everything in that. I call it a good idea, and the only way we can go about it.”
“But wouldn’t we be bothered with visitors?”
“No; certainly not; or, at any rate, they couldn’t get in.”
“They’d see the earth thrown up.”
“O, we wouldn’t throw up much. I don’t believe we’d have to dig far, and we could put up both sails, so as to cover up everything. Some of us could watch, to give notice to the diggers to knock off in case any one passed by.”
“Well, it’s not a bad idea; and it’s the only thing we can do. So it’s worth trying.”
“Yes; but there’s one thing first.”
“What’s that?”
“Why, we’ll have to talk with the landlord, and see if we can find out from him what the probabilities are about this place being really the resort of the old buccaneers.”