_The Camp in the Woods.--Weapons of War.--An Interruption.--An old
Friend.--A Mineral Bod.--Tremendous Excitement.---Captain Corbet on the
Rampage.--A Pot of Gold._
THE spring recess was over, and the boys of the Grand Pré School were
now to turn from play to study. The last day of their liberty was spent
by the “B. O. W. C.” at their encampment in the woods. They found it
in so good a condition, that it was even more attractive than when they
left it. The dam had proved water-tight; the pool was full to the
brim; the trees overhung with a denser foliage, while all around the
fresh-turned earth was covered with young grass, springing forth with
that rapidity which marks the growth of vegetation in these colder
regions.
It was early in the day when they came up, and they were accompanied by
the Perpetual Grand Panjandrum, who carried on his woolly head a basket
crammed to the top with a highly-diversified and very luxurious lunch,
which it had been the joy of that aged functionary to gather for the
present occasion.
“Dar!” he exclaimed, as he put down his burden. “Ef you habn’t enough
to feed you dis time, den I’m a nigga. Dar’s turkeys, an mutton pies, an
hoe-cakes, an ham, an ginger-beer, an doughnuts, an de sakes ony knows
what. All got up for de special benefit ob de Bee see double bubble
Bredren, by de Gran Pan dandle drum. You’ll be de greatest specims ob
chil’en in de woods dat ebber I har tell on. You gwine to be jes like
wild Injins, and live in de wilderness like de prophets; an I’m gwine to
be de black raven dat’ll bring you food. But now,” he added, “de black
crow must fly back agen.”
“O, no, Solomon,” said they, as he started. “Don’t go. The ‘B. O. W.
C.’ won’t be anything without you. Stay with us, and be the Grand
Panjandrum.”
“Darsn’t!”
“O, yes, you must.”
“Can’t, no how.”
“Why not?”
“Darsn’t, De doctor’d knock my ole head off. De doctor _mus_ hab ole
Solomon. Can’t get along widout him. Yah, yah, yah! Why, de whole
’Cad-emy’d go to tarnal smash ef ole Solomon clar’d out dat way.
Gracious sakes! Why, belubbed bred-ren, I’m sprised at you. An’ me de
Gran Pandrum!”
“True,” said Bart, gravely. “Too true. It was very thoughtless in us,
Grand Panjandrum; but don’t say that we asked you. Keep dark.”
“Sartin,” said old Solomon, with a grin. “Dar’s no fear but what I’ll
keep dark. Allus been as dark as any ole darky could be. Yah, yah, yah!”
And he rolled up his eyes till nothing could be seen but the whites of
them, and chuckled all over, and then, with a face of mock solemnity,
bobbed his old head, and said,--
“Far well, mos wos’ful, an’ all de res ob de belubbed breddren.”
And with these words he departed.
After this, the boys gave themselves up to the business of the day. And
what was that? O, nothing in particular, but many things in general.
First and foremost, there was a grand jubilation to be made over the
encampment of the “B. O. W. C.;” then a grand lamentation over the end
of the recess. Then they talked over a thousand plans of future action.
In these woods there were no bears, nor were there any wild Indians;
but at any rate, there were squirrels to be shot at, and there were
Gaspereaugians to be armed against.
It was certainly necessary, then, that they should have arms of offence
and defence.
To decide on these arms was a matter that required long debate. One was
in favor of clubs; another, of Chinese crackers; a third had a weakness
for boomerangs; a fourth suggested lassos; and a fifth thought that
an old cannon, with Bart’s pistol, and the gun, would form their most
efficient means of defence. But in the course of a long discussion, all
these opinions were modified; and the final result was in favor of the
comparatively light and trifling arms--bows and arrows. In addition
to these, whistles were thought to be desirable, in order to assist
in decoying the unsuspecting squirrel, or in warning off the prowling
Gaspereaugian.
One powerful cause of their unanimous decision was the pleasing fact,
that bows, arrows, and whistles, could be manufactured on the spot by
their own jackknives. Ash trees were all around, from which they could
shape the elastic bow; tall spruce trees were there, from which they
could fashion the light, straight shaft; and there, too, were the
well-known twigs, from which they could whittle the willow whistle.
It was jolly--was it not? Could anything be more so? Certainly not. So
they all thought, and they gave themselves up, therefore, to the joy of
the occasion. They bathed in the pool. They dressed again, and lay on
the grass in the sun. They gathered ash, and spruce, and willow. They
collected also large quantities of fresh, soft moss, which they strewed
over the floor of the camp, in which they at length sought refuge from
the sun, and brought out their knives, and went to work.
Here they sat, then, working away like busy bees, two at bows, two at
arrows, and one at whistles, laughing, singing, talking, joking, telling
stories, and making such a general and indiscriminate hubbub as had
never before been heard in these quiet woods; when suddenly they were
startled by a dark shadow which fell in front of the doorway, and
instantly retreated, followed by the crackling sound of dried twigs.
In a moment Bart was on his feet.
“_Who goes there?_” he cried, in a loud but very firm voice, while at
the same instant the thought flashed into his mind, and into the minds
of all the others,--The Gaspereaugians!--
Full of this thought, they all arose, even while Bart was speaking, with
their souls full of a desperate resolution.
“_Who goes there?_” cried Bart a second time, in still louder tones.
A faint crackle among the dried twigs was the only respose that came.
“_Who goes there?_” cried Bart a third time, in a voice of deadly
determination. “_Speak or--I’ll fire!_”
At this menacing and imperative summons there came a response. It came
in the shape of a figure that stole forward in front of the doorway,
slowly and carefully; a figure that disclosed to their view the familiar
form, and the meek, the mild, the venerable, and the well-remembered
face of Captain Corbet! Greeted with one universal shout of joy.
“Here we air agin, boys,” said the venerable commander, as he stepped
inside, and looked all around with a scrutinizing glance. “We’ve ben
together over the briny deep, an here’s the aged Corbet, right side up,
in good health, and comes hopin to find you in the same.”
“Corbet! Corbet! Captain Corbet! Three cheers for the commander of the
great expedition to Blomidon!”
And upon this there rang out three cheers as loud and as vigorous as
could be produced by the united lungs of the five boys.
Captain Corbet regarded them with an amiable smile.
“Kind o’ campin’ out?” said he at last. “I thought by what you told me
you’d be up to somethin like this, an I come down thinkin I’d find you;
and here we air.”
“How’s the baby, captain?” asked Bart.
“In a terewly wonderful good state of health and sperits--kickin an
crowin like mad; ony jest now he’s sound asleep--bless him. I’ve ben
a-nussin of him ever sence I arrove, which I feel to be a perroud
perrivelege, an the highest parental jy.”
“That’s right; and now sit down an sing us a song.”
“Wal, as to settin, I’ll set; but as to singin, I hain’t the time nor
the vice. The fact is, I come down on _business_.”
At this Captain Corbet’s face assumed an expression of deep and dark
mystery. He had a stick in his hand about a yard long, rather slender,
and somewhat dirty. He now held out this stick, looked at it for a few
moments in indescribable solemnity, then closed his eyes, then shook
his head, and then, putting the stick behind his back, he drew a long
breath, and looked hard at the boys.
“Business?” said Arthur; “what kind of business?”
Captain Corbet looked all around with an air of furtive scrutiny, and
then regarded the boys with more solemnity than ever. He held out his
stick again, and regarded it with profound earnestness.
“It’s a diskivery,” said he.
“A discovery?” asked Bart, full of wonder at Captain Corbet’s very
singular manner; “a discovery? What kind of a discovery?”
“A diskivery,” continued Captain Corbet; “and this here stick,”
he continued, holding it forth, “this here stick is the identical
individooal article that’s made the diskivery to me. ’Tain’t everybody
I’d tell; but you boys air different. I trust youns. Do you see that?”
shaking the stick; “do you know what that air is? Guess, now.”
“That?” said Bart, somewhat contemptuously. “Why, what’s that? It’s only
a common stick.”
At this Captain Corbet seemed deeply offended. He caressed the stick
affectionately, and looked reproachfully at Bart.
“A stick?” said he at last; “a common stick? No, _sir_. ’Tain’t a
stick at all. Excuse me. Thar’s jest whar you’re out of your reckonin.
’Tain’t a stick at all; no, nor anythin like it.”
“Well,” said Bart, “if that isn’t a stick, I should like to know what
you call one.”
“O, you’ll know--you’ll know in time,” said Captain Corbet, whose air of
mystery now returned, and made the boys more anxious than ever to find
out the cause.
“If it isn’t a stick, what is it?” asked Bruce.
“Wal--it ain’t a stick, thar.”
“What is it, then?”
“It’s--a--ROD,” said Captain Corbet, slowly and impressively.
“A rod? Well, what then? Isn’t a rod a stick?”
“No, _sir_, not by a long chalk. Besides, this here’s a very pecooliar
rod.” #
“How’s that?”
Captain Corbet rose, went to the door, looked on every side with eager
scrutiny, then returned, and looked mysteriously at the boys; then he
stepped nearer; then he bent down his head; and finally he said, in an
eager and piercing whisper,--
“_It’s a mineral rod!_”
“A mineral rod?”
“Yes, sir,” said Captain Corbet, stepping back, and watching the
boys eagerly, so as to see the full effect of this startling piece of
intelligence.
The effect was such as might have satisfied even Captain Corbet, with
all his mystery. A mineral rod! what could be more exciting to the
imagination of boys? Had they not heard of such things? Of course they
had. They knew all about them. They had read of mineral rods as they had
read of other things. They had feasted their imaginations on pirates,
brigands, wizards, necromancers, alchy-mists, astrologers, and all the
other characters which go to make up the wonder-world of a boy; and
among all the things of this wonder-world, nothing was more impressive
than a mineral rod. This was the magic wand that revealed the secrets of
the earth--this was the resistless “sesame” that opened the way to the
hoarded treasures of the bandit--this was the key that would unlock the
coffers, filled with gold, and buried deep in the earth by the robber
chief or the pirate captain. What wonder, then, that the very mention of
that word was enough to excite them all in an instant, and to turn their
minds from good-natured contempt to eager and irrepressible curiosity?
“I’m no fool,” said Captain Corbet, impressively--“I know what I’m a
doin. I got this mineral rod last year, and went round everywhar over
the hull country. It didn’t come natral, at fust, but I kep on. You see
I had a motive. It wan’t myself. It wan’t Mrs. Corbet. It was the
babby! He’s a growin, and I’m a declinin; an afore he grows to be a man,
whar’ll I be? I want to have somethin to leave him. That’s what sot me
up to it. Nobody knows anythin about it. I darsen’t tell Mrs. Corbet.
I have to do it on the sly. But when I saw you, I got to love you, an I
knew I could trust you. For you see I’ve made a diskiv-ery, an I’m goin
to tell you; an that’s what brought me down here. Besides, you’re all
favored by luck; an ef I have your help, it’ll be all right.”
“But what _is_ the discovery?” asked the boys, on whom these preliminary
remarks made a still deeper impression.
“Wal--as I was a sayin,” resumed the captain--“I’ve been a prowlin round
and round over the hull country with the mineral rod. It’s full of
holes. Them old Frenchmen left lots of money. That’s what I’m a huntin
arter, and that’s what I’ve found.”
These last few words, added in a low but penetrating whisper, thrilled
the boys with strange excitement.
“Have you really found anything?” asked Bart, eagerly. “What is it?
When? Where? How?”
Captain Corbet took off his hat very solemnly, and then, plunging his
hand into his pocket, he drew forth a crowd of miscellaneous articles,
one by one. He thus brought forth a button, a knife, a string, a fig of
tobacco, a pencil, a piece of chalk, a cork, a stone, a bit of leather,
a child’s rattle, a lamp-burner, a bit of ropeyarn, a nail, a screw,
a hammer, a pistol barrel, a flint, some matches, a horse’s tooth, the
mouthpiece of a fog-horn, a doll’s head, an envelope, a box of caps,
a penholder, a nut, a bit of candy, a piece of zinc, a brass cannon, a
pin, a bent knitting needle, some wire, a rat skin, a memorandum book,
a bone, a squirrel’s tail, a potato, a wallet, half of an apple, an
ink bottle, a lamp-wick, “Bonaparte’s Oraculum,” a burning glass, a
corkscrew, a shaving brush, and very many other articles, all of which
he put in his hat in a very grave and serious manner.
He then proceeded with his other hand to unload his other pocket, the
contents of which were quite as numerous and as varied; but in neither
of the pockets did he find what he wished.
“Wal, I declar!” he cried, suddenly. “I remember, now, I put it in my
waistcoat pocket.”
Saying this, he felt in his waistcoat pocket, and drew forth a copper
coin, which he held forth to the boys with a face of triumph.
Bart took it, and the others crowded eagerly around him to look at it.
It was very much worn; indeed, on one side it was quite smooth, and the
marks were quite effaced; but on the other side there was a head, and
around it were letters which were legible. They read this: