A DISCOVERY.
Although Ned had never been shipwrecked, nor, except in the case of the
story about Robinson Crusoe, had he ever read of such disasters, yet he
understood that before he gathered a supply of food, in case such a
thing should be possible, it was necessary to have a substantial
building in which to keep it.
It was his intention to lay in a quantity of salt; but in case he was
forced to store it in the shanty of leaves the stock would be destroyed
by the first storm of rain, and in fact it seemed as if all his hopes of
being able to hold out until some craft should come within hail depended
upon his having a building sufficiently strong to resist the weather.
Therefore it was that he hailed the discovery of the wreck as of the
highest importance, and resolved to work at her incessantly, save when
it was necessary to prepare food or sleep, until he had accomplished his
purpose.
In view of the fact that the only tool he possessed was a pocket knife,
the task was gigantic; but it was as if the difficulties in his path
only served to increase his courage.
He had said that all he needed was something which would serve as a
spade; but even with such a modest want in his mind he was brought to a
standstill.
To hew down a tree sufficiently large to provide him with material for a
wooden shovel an ax would be absolutely indispensable, and it was quite
positive there was no lumber to be found on the shores, for he had
already made nearly an entire circuit of the key.
His joy at the discovery was lessened considerably by the difficulty in
the way of utilizing it, and he studied over the problem a long while
without having arrived at a conclusion which was satisfactory.
“It’s certain I can’t have a spade or anything like one,” he said
thoughtfully; “so the question is, what else can I find to throw the
sand away with? I reckon those timbers are buried pretty deep, and a
fellow couldn’t do very much with only his hands.”
In order to ascertain exactly what might be accomplished with nothing in
the way of implements he began to kick and shove away the sand; but in a
short time his fingers were made sore by the sharp particles, and he
realized that in less than an hour of such work his hands would be
blistered and cut.
Then he walked slowly back to the grove and looked around as if for an
inspiration.
This was neither more nor less than a waste of time, for the saplings
were the only objects which could be cut down with the knife, and these
he attacked at once.
“A fellow can’t make very much of a fist diggin’ sand with a stake,” he
said as he worked; “but so long as I couldn’t use my hands more than
half an hour, these poles will go, way, ahead of nothin’.”
After cutting down half a dozen small trees, the trunks of which were no
larger than his wrist, he whittled the thickest ends flat and proceeded
to the work.
It was very much like trying to dig with a spoon; but yet he made a
certain amount of progress, and when inclined to grow down-hearted
because so much labor was necessary in order to accomplish very little,
he repeated to himself again and again that when a fellow has more time
on his hands than he knows what to do with, it can matter very little
how long it takes him to perform a certain piece of work.
When the night came he had uncovered a couple of timbers down to where
the planking of the vessel still held comparatively sound, and found
that he was at the stern of the craft.
“She run head on to the key,” he said as he stopped to rest before
returning to his hut. “The crew must have been asleep to strike here,
for the island shows plain enough.”
If Ned had been more experienced in such matters he would have
understood that the vessel unquestionably came ashore many years before,
when the coral island was much smaller, and the work of the minute
creatures which have formed the fringe of keys or reefs around the
Florida coast had gradually built under her, until now she was twenty or
thirty feet from the water’s edge.
Even to Ned’s inexperienced eyes the marks of great age could be seen;
therefore he had no hope of finding anything amid the timbers which
could serve him in the slightest degree, except in the way of materials
for a hut.
“I don’t fancy there’ll be much of any trouble in knockin’ the timbers
apart,” he said as he went slowly toward the place he was beginning to
call “home.” “By to-morrow night I ought to have a couple of pieces
loose, an’ I’ll set them up outside my shanty. I can build around it,
an’ when the wooden house is done it will only be necessary to pull the
camp of leaves out.”
A supper of fish seasoned with salt gave him a most appetizing meal, and
when he lay down to sleep his eyes were soon closed in blissful
unconsciousness because of the weariness of body.
On the following morning but little time was spent in the preparation
for breakfast, and he began once more the task of unearthing the wreck.
Having simply been pushing the sand up, quite a high bank was formed,
and it became necessary to level this before the work could be
continued.
By noon he found a prize in the shape of a short piece of plank,
perfectly dry despite the length of time it had been covered by the
sand, and an hour’s labor with his knife served to convert it into a
rude shovel, with which he could do twice as much as when the stakes
were his only tools.
The outside of several timbers were laid bare, and then, preparatory to
wrenching them from their fastenings, he shoveled from the inside near
the fragments of the stern-post.
About half an hour before sunset the wooden scoop struck against a hard
substance which he knew could not be the “skin” of the vessel, since it
was much too high up from the keel.
Merely from curiosity, and not with any idea that he might be making a
valuable discovery, Ned labored only to ascertain what was concealed
beneath the sand, and before the night had fully come, he was gazing in
surprise at a small box covered with rawhide and bound with iron.
It was about ten inches long and eight high, so tiny that he anticipated
no difficulty in raising it, but, to his astonishment, found it required
the exercise of all his strength to pull it from the bed of sand in
which it had lain so long.
“I’d like to know what’s inside,” he said as he stood looking at the
small but exceedingly heavy package. “There’s no hope of breaking it
with one of the poles, for the rawhide would hold it together, even if I
should splinter the wood. I reckon it wouldn’t be a bad idea to burn one
end off.”
This last thought seemed to be a happy one, and the boy set about
carrying the “find” to the hut.
It required all his strength, and more than once was it necessary for
him to rest, but he finally succeeded, the last portion of the journey
having been made after nightfall, and once at the place where the
camp-fire was usually built, he forgot about supper.
He was curious to see the contents of the odd box, and this desire was
greater than his hunger.
Building a glowing fire, he placed the case in such a manner that only
one end would be affected by the flames, and as the rawhide began to
crackle and shrivel it suddenly occurred to him that the package might
be filled with cartridges.
“If it is I reckon this is no place for me,” he said in something like
alarm, moving off a short distance, and then recovered his composure as
he added:
“The danger can’t be great, no matter how much powder may be there, for
the box must have been under water a long time, an’ I don’t allow fire
could do it any harm.”
Now he approached sufficiently near to heap the coals up as the wood
began to smolder; but despite the amount of fuel expended, it was fully
an hour before his purpose was accomplished.
One end of the case was now so charred that he anticipated little
difficulty in forcing it open with a stake from the roof of his hut, and
the package was drawn back to a comfortable distance from the flames.
A heavy blow with the largest piece of wood he could find, a dull,
metallic sound, and Ned stood transfixed with surprise.
From out the half-burned box poured a veritable stream of silver coins,
more money than Ned had ever seen before in all his life.
During several moments he remained silent and motionless, gazing at the
wonderful find as if fearing it might suddenly disappear should he take
his eyes from it, and then he needed no further proof that it was
real—not a phantom conjured up by a weak or disordered brain.
There could be no question as to the fact that the pieces were silver,
and mostly of the denomination of dollars from the Mexican mint.
Although Ned had never had the pleasure of handling many such coins, he
knew there was no deception about the contents of the box, and during a
certain length of time he was literally beside himself with astonishment
and joy.
He had forgotten how he chanced to be on that lonely key, and heeded not
the fact that it might be years before he would find an opportunity of
reaching the mainland, or the chances of being unable to carry his
treasure with him when, if ever, he did go.
The only thing clear to his mind was that he, the pauper of whom it had
been predicted that “some bad end surely awaited him,” was virtually
rich.
Without making any attempt to count the coins, he believed there was
sufficient to satisfy his every want no matter how long he might live,
and this crowded aside all other thoughts.
Two hours later he, like every other person who has unexpectedly come
into possession of a fortune without being forced to toil for it,
suddenly bethought himself that he had been content with a single box.
If one had been hidden there so long, why might there not be many more
in the same place?
A few moments previous he had been perfectly content with what he had
and his own forlorn position. Now his greatest desire was to find more;
but yet he could not leave unguarded the precious metal.
It is true that there was no one on the island to rob him; but yet it
did not seem safe to go away even for a single instant while it was thus
exposed to view, and at once he set about making a hiding-place, first
heaping high the fire with branches which he tore from the trees with a
fictitious strength born of his excitement.
Then—and this time he regarded not the fact that the sand would cut his
fingers—he scooped away the loose soil with his hands until the
foundation of coral was brought to view.
On this, placing the coins in even piles, he stacked up the treasure
until it covered a space of six or seven square inches, after which it
was carefully covered with sand once more.
Then came the thought that the box might betray him in case any one
should come suddenly, and he flung it on the fire, watching jealously
until every portion had been consumed.
The hiding-place of his wealth was trampled upon until even the most
scrutinizing search would have failed to reveal the fact that the
surface had been disturbed to any great depth, and then he started once
more toward the location of the wreck, hardly giving heed to the fact
that the key was shrouded in darkness.
He was made sensible of this before trying to walk very far, however,
for after having taken twenty steps he ran into a small tree, striking
his nose such a blow that the blood flowed freely.
This had the effect of restoring to him at least a portion of his
scattered senses, and he made his way back to the fire, stanching the
flow of blood with the sleeve of his coat.
“It seems a good deal as if I’d been makin’ a big fool of myself,” he
said with a nervous laugh, “an’ I don’t know that it’s to be wondered
at. When a feller who never owned a whole dollar in his life has ’em
come tumblin’ in on him the way them did, he’s likely to get rattled. I
needn’t be in such a hurry to get at the rest, in case there’s more to
be found, for, ’cordin’ to the looks of things, I shall have plenty of
chance to dig the old craft over two or three times before anybody
happens this way to help me off. Most likely Captain Bragg took good
care to land me where vessels never come, for it would go hard with him
if I should get back to tell my story when he was anywhere around. The
best thing is to get some sleep now, an’ in the mornin’ I’ll have a hunt
for more dollars. I wonder what they’d say on board the brig if it was
known I’d fallen into such a snap?”
Ned looked once more at the place where he buried his treasure to be
certain he left no traces which might show what had been done, and then
lay down beneath his shelter of leaves; but sleep did not come at his
bidding as quickly as on the previous night.
Then he had not a penny or the means of getting one, so far as he knew,
and yet his rest was unbroken and refreshing. Now that he was
comparatively wealthy slumber refused to visit his eyelids, and the
sensation of perfect repose was denied him.
As he lay there thinking over the good fortune which had come to him so
unexpectedly, a pattering on the leaves above caused him to start up in
alarm.
Then he laughed heartily, for the noise was occasioned by the falling of
rain.
“Here I am playin’ the fool again,” he said grimly. “If it hadn’t been
for that money I should never have thought of bein’ frightened just
because of such a little noise. But say, if it storms very hard I shall
be likely to have a rough night of it in spite of all my silver!”
The rain descended more rapidly, the wind moaned among the trees, and
the sullen roar of the surf came from the beach.
“The sand I shoveled out this afternoon will all be blown or washed
back,” he muttered, “an’ I shall have to do the work over again; but I
reckon it won’t be so hard now I know what it’s possible to find.”
The storm came up rapidly.
In less than ten minutes from the time the first drops of water fell, it
seemed to Ned as if a perfect hurricane was raging.
The fire was extinguished with many an angry hiss and splutter, and
shortly after the illy secured roof of the shanty was blown away like a
dry leaf, while the sides and end soon went to keep the other company.
It was useless attempting to avoid the down-pour. In less than three
minutes from the time his shelter was borne off on the wings of the
storm, Ned was as wet as if he had been indulging in a bath without
undressing, and the only thing he could hope to do was to prevent his
precious matches from getting wet.
The salt had taken French leave with the first puff of wind, and to save
his only materials for kindling a fire, Ned deprived himself of his
coat, wrapping the garment around the small supply of “fire sticks.”
The bundle he carried under his arm, or, rather, held it there while he
clung to a tree to prevent himself from being blown bodily into the sea.
In this manner he passed the remainder of the night, and it seemed as if
the morning would never come.
He did not dare to leave the spot to which he had first fled for safety,
although many times it seemed as if the tree would be uprooted, for the
darkness was so intense that he could not have seen his own hands if
held within a few inches of his eyes.
But in the midst of all this discomfort, and even danger, he thought of
the treasure continually, wondering if he would have much trouble in
finding the place where the silver was buried after the rain had
obliterated his landmarks.
The morning broke gray and forbidding.
The huge waves rolled up on the beach as if intent on submerging the
tiny key, and breaking on the shore with a force that caused the island
to tremble under the blows.
There was no promise in the sky that the storm would soon subside, and
Ned gazed in dismay at the ruin which had been wrought.