Money Island Part 2

I at once felt something round and suggestive. "Look at this!" I cried.

It was a blackened gold coin! In the darkness we hurriedly sifted the sand with our fingers; and each one soon found several pieces of money.

With feverish energy, we thus labored until late in the night, meeting with constant success; and, when we stopped, every one had a precious pile to carry back to the sh.o.r.e. The coins were all corroded and misshapen through the action of the salty mud in which they had lain, and the disturbance caused by the roots of the trees. A few silver coins were found, but all were in a very worn condition; some being little more than ragged discs of the thickness of paper. Others, or the remains of them, crumbled into a black powder at the touch of our fingers. The gold was in better preservation; and we secured a goodly store of it.

We secreted our treasure in the woods on sh.o.r.e, and early the next morning returned to our work. I can well remember our exultant feeling as we set out in our boats. "Boys," Mr. Landstone called out, as we were sailing over the narrow stretches of water toward the island, "how do you feel?"

"I feel like--like--" I answered, rising in my seat and lifting my hat to cheer.

"None of that!" he said quickly--but I knew I was about to express the excited feeling of us all.

As to our further success, I would say that it was unabated during nearly the whole day. I think we secured every piece of precious metal that had been buried beneath the tree. The following day we uprooted the other tree, but failed to find any trace of more booty. We concluded that the remaining chest had probably been removed; but that is still an unsettled question.

Besides the coin, we had discovered the remains of much silver plate; but it was of little value, being almost entirely destroyed. But the gold--there was an abundance of it, and we were all made rich!

In the meantime our parents appeared on the scene to learn the cause of our protracted absence from home. It is needless to say that there was no rod of correction held over us that day.

If I had taken care of my share of the treasure as I should have done after my father's death, I would be living in luxury and comfort to-day; but, even regretting my poor judgment, I can now thank a good Providence that I have been sustained through a long life, which has had an undue share of misfortune, by the splendid fortune which came to me in that happy May of long ago.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The decaying hulks of blockade runners that rise a little here and there above the waves"]

THE CONQUEST OF JAMESBY.

I reached home for tea a little late, and saw my young friend Jamesby in the back yard where he had gone to admire my fowls, in which I take a just pride. Old Henry, my colored servant, was playing the part of host; for there was no one else at home. When I made my appearance, the chickens had evidently become a matter of secondary interest.

Jamesby, a rising young banker of the city, was sitting on an empty box near the fence, and Henry was standing before him, leaning upon his cane, chuckling and talking in his customary deferential manner, which has always made him a very acceptable servant about my premises.

I approached without being observed, and did not hail them, for I did not wish to intrude too suddenly upon what appeared to be a very amusing subject of conversation. I heard Jamesby say laughingly, "Why, it was in the paper this morning--five or six columns of it! It was a great big yarn. I can't imagine why he never told you anything about it."

I knew what they were talking about. I was well aware that I had told my tale of Money Island for publication; for had I not been sought after by men, women, and children for every imaginable explanation and sidelight relating to the story which might have been omitted from the MS furnished the printer? And had I not been asked to repeat by living voice facts in the narrative which I had written, as I thought, with entire clearness in the published story? The boys had all read the story, and I had been put to my wits' end to answer the questions asked by them; but I had a.s.sured several of them that if they would take a copy of the paper, go to the Island and there read it on the very spot where the treasure had been buried, and then and there take a careful survey of the situation, there would be no difficulty in their comprehending even the slightest detail. This seemed to me to be a very sensible suggestion; and I suppose some of them will carry it out.

While I really enjoyed the experience of having entertained so many people that day, I was fairly well fatigued when I reached home, where I thought I could at least be quiet and free from the constant inquiries of interested friends.

But here was Jamesby with designs against me! He had dashed my fond hopes of rest; although he was somehow always considerate and endurable. I could never become impatient with him, even if I knew he was going to make demands upon me for more information concerning Money Island.

"What is Uncle Henry telling you, Jamesby?" I asked on drawing closer to them.

"Oh," he answered in a somewhat self-conscious manner, "he was about to tell me of an experience of his in money digging."

Now, I had heard old Henry tell that story before. It was one which seemed to justify his very sober ideas as to money getting by any other means than by one's daily work.

"Well, Henry," I said, taking my seat also on the box, "did you really ever dig for money?"--as if I had never before heard him say anything about it. The implied doubt would, I knew, make him all the more ready to talk.

He replied promptly, with a grin of interest, "Yes, sah, cose I tried money diggin'."

Then he paused as if to await an invitation to proceed. "Go on, Uncle Henry," urged Jamesby.

Henry s.h.i.+fted his position, and, leaning upon his cane from another angle, went on: "'Twas dis away. Once uponer time me an' John Gomus an'

John Flowers, we was round at Mr. Holmes' stables, right back of Mr.

Kidder's whey I uster keep my horse and kyart; dere was woods right dare den, sah, an' a graveyard; an' I had a horse and kyart of my own. So one evenin' an ole white 'oman come fum de Sound, an' she tole us that a sperit had done tole her whey some money was buried; an' she wanted us to come down dere and dig it up; she couldn't dig for it, but she knowed whey 'twas--de sperit had tole her. So we got togedder and made a club to go down--three of us. De place was on Wrightsville Sound, not fur from Mr. Wright's place.

"De sign was, dat one read de Bible back'ards, and no one speak--all hadter go by signs, an' dat'd keep de sperits fum pesterin' us. John Gomus, he had de rod goin' roun', an' fonn' a place to stick it. I dunno why he stick it whey he did. De rod pinted right down dere; and right whey de rod pinted we digged. When we commence diggin', it was about half-past eight o'clock, and we worked hard, sah. We digged a hole big enough to set a small house in. John, he kep' bearin' on de rod, an' de rod it kep' goin' down. Den de rod at las' struck sumpn; and we was so glad, thinkin' we'd struck de pot! Every one was rejoiced! We didn'

talk, but jes fling up de dirt! An' when we dig down dere, sah, what you spose 'twas. Nothin' but a big ole cow's horn. An' after all dat diggin'! We done an' digged a hole 'bout fifteen or twenty feet across, and goodness knows how deep; an' 'twas 'bout four in de mornin' before we quit. We pack up an' come back home, feelin' jes as cheap as a wet chicken.

"De ole 'oman come 'roun agin, an' tole us dat de money was dere; fer de sperit had tole her agin 'twas dere. But we warn't anxious to try for it agin. We thought we done enough."

Old Henry chuckled, and limped away; and we both laughed heartily at his droll yarn. Jamesby enjoyed the tale particularly; and, although I felt that it might somehow be at my expense, I was duly amused.

When Jamesby descended from his hilarious heights, he turned to me rather gravely, and said, "Now, I want it from your own lips; did you really dig for money on Money Island?"

I answered, "I did."

"And," he continued, "was that a true story you told about it?"

"Now, Jamesby," I replied, "I really cannot endure this doubt cast upon the truthfulness of my story. I decline to discuss the matter. You have read the paper, and you know me as the author of the story."

"But," he added in rather a comical tone, "there are some things which (with all due respect for your trustworthiness) call for a more positive confirmation."

I knew I would not have written anything on so important a subject without proper consideration; and he knew it too. However, I realized the fact that an effort to believe such a story as I had offered to the public may have made a somewhat weighty demand upon credulity, at least with some people. To answer his last suggestion, I merely drew out of my pocket a copy of the "Savannah Morning News", containing an account of a stranger's mysterious movements about Warsaw Island near Savannah, and his sudden disappearance, leaving good evidence that he had carried with him a hidden treasure found there, and which tradition had stated lay upon the Island. I also reminded him of the fact that Dutch Island near Savannah is full of what are known as "treasure holes", which have been made by persons seeking the buried booty of the pirates of the olden times. He knew all about these; and he had also heard that some of the enterprising explorers into the mysteries of that island had been successful.

But Jamesby was still incredulous. So I turned the conversation to my fowls; and he was very ready to admit that I had told the genuine thing in describing to him some of the excellent points of my prize birds.

There was no doubt that I could exhibit several specimens which any fancier would be proud of.

Jamesby remained to tea, so that we could go to the lodge together, and I enjoyed the quiet stroll down town with him. We had hardly entered the hall, though, before the historian of the town, who is also a leading Mason, approached me regarding my Money Island revelations. "Sir," he said, "I regard it throughout as a most interesting and plausible narrative; and I am glad we have been favored by being allowed to read it. I have made a study of the pirates who infested our coast in the early colonial days, and I know that this section, particularly the lower region of the Cape Fear, was a favorite rendezvous for them. It is known upon most reliable information that there are immense quant.i.ties of captured treasure secreted along the coast, and the wonder is that there have not been some really serious efforts to find it."

Another gentleman added, "Yes, and they also buried treasure further down South; for at my old home (and I speak the honest trath) I have stood in the hole from which my friend, Mr. Coachman, unearthed accidentally a small fortune, which gave him a very comfortable start in life."

The conversation lingered in this absorbing vein until the meeting was opened, much to my relief; for I had been surfeited with the subject of money finding for that day, at least. But that was not all; for, during the solemnity of the opening exercises, I heard some one telling, in an undertone, of a negro who had found a roll of old bank notes in a log which had been hauled to a saw mill to be cut.

The next day I was still aware that I possessed an unusual attraction; and I resigned myself patiently to the service of all my inquiring friends. Jamesby actually stopped by my office to walk up with me at lunch time. He was willing to move along slowly with me, for now in my old age I find I have to walk slowly. I knew it would have been more natural for him to have gone on briskly; but he was polite and a.s.sured me that the pleasure of my company was better than too much time spent at his meal.

We stopped on the way at a newspaper office. The editor and proprietor had observed our approach and they were awaiting us with looks of amused interest. "h.e.l.lo!" the proprietor said cheerily, "you have really stimulated the enterprise of the town. Why have you kept so reticent on that subject all these years?"

Of course, I knew what subject was referred to; for I had been living for those two days in an atmosphere filled with the phantoms of hidden gold, buried treasure, marvelous discoveries, pirates and other engaging topics of thought; and I now looked for nothing else.

"In my opinion," he continued, "it was a very good story. Of course, it goes without saying that it is true. I tell you, sir, that it is my judgment that this whole section of coast line is rich in gold. Not only did those pirates bury gold here, but, during the Civil War, the Confederate blockade runners, when fearing capture, were known repeatedly to throw gold into the sea along the beach, sometimes by the keg full; and not one dollar's worth of it has ever yet been recovered, so far as I can learn. It is all right there where they dropped it. And besides that, at least on one occasion, it is a well proven fact that a chest of gold was buried by the commander of one of the blockade runners in the marsh gra.s.s on the sh.o.r.e not far below Wilmington; and there is no evidence that it has ever yet been unearthed. In fact, all knowledge of the exact spot has been lost, I understand."

"Yes," interposed the editor, "it is all quite reasonable; and, as something germain to the subject, I can cite an interesting instance.

When, soon after the War our old Confederate naval captain bought his home on Greenville Sound and was preparing to build his residence, he had the old house which stood upon the site torn down, and, upon the carpenters coming one morning to begin the erection of the new building, they found an immense excavation right where the old house stood. Now, that old building was in former years used by a Portuguese as an inn for the entertainment of sailors from the vessels in the port of Wilmington; and, there being certain traditions in regard to some money having been buried beneath it, it was natural to conclude that the excavation resulted from an energetic effort to find the money. The hole was made at night, but by whom it has never been found out. The incident was shrouded in a mystery which has never been cleared."

We talked still further along that vein, the editor emphatically a.s.serting his a.s.sured belief in the possibility of recovering quant.i.ties of gold from the seash.o.r.e below Wilmington, and from the decaying hulks of blockade runners that rise a little here and there above the waves, where they met a disastrous check to their efforts to slip into the harbor.

As we started out again upon the street, Jamesby said, "Well, sir,--pardon my frankness--but I must say that I have never found your company so interesting before; and I shall be equally frank in saying that--I have never been able yet to believe half the tales I have heard about the mysterious discovery of buried treasure. There is something so unsubstantial about most of them. Of course, there may be some exceptions, and--"

"Jamesby," I interrupted in good humor, "don't let your frankness expire for the lack of the proper courage. Let your speech continue during the whole run of an honest statement. But it's all right. I have some indisputable proofs--"