by Bob Brooks
It was kind of a gurgling growl coming from the woods to the south. Everyone immediately thought only one thing — bear!
They looked at each other.
Bartholomew said, “Everybody please relax and stay quiet.”
They listened. For a while they only heard the breeze through the trees.
Grrrrrr! Grrrrrr! This time the sound was closer. The animals huddled together.
Grrrrrr! Grrrrrr! Closer still.
Wilde and Wilder stood up. They were in their camouflage outfits as usual.
Wilde said quietly, “We’ll go out and investigate. We will take care of it.”
Everyone stared at them. Only the weasels were brave enough to do this.
Bartholomew said, “Do not any take unnecessary chances.”
It was for situations like this that he had chosen the weasels to be part of the group.
“We won’t,” replied Wilder.
The weasels picked up their new cloth bags and slung them over their shoulders. They quietly slipped out of the tent into the darkness. The first thing they did was determine wind direction. It was coming from the south. That was good because it meant the bear would not be able to smell them. Keeping close to the ground, they crawled to the left side of the glade and scurried behind a large oak tree. There were no clouds in the sky and no moon to illuminate the woods. They could easily hide, but so could the bear.
They had practiced how to deal with an animal larger than themselves, but now it was for real.
The growling continued from time to time but didn’t seem to be getting closer. As best as they could estimate, the bear was about a hundred feet into the woods.
Wilde whispered, “We need to get about twenty-five feet from him on each side, about fifteen feet up in a tree, just as we practiced. You stay on this side, and I’ll get on the other side of him. When we’re in position, we can begin our offensive against the enemy. Good luck.”
“Good luck, brother,” Wilder responded.
Wilde crept off quietly. He followed the edge of the glade to the right. As he moved, he could hear twigs breaking and leaves being rustled. It took him about ten minutes to move into position to the right of the bear, but he still couldn’t see him.
Then, he finally saw him through the trees. The bear looked about a hundred times bigger than Wilde. His heart raced. He found a tree near the edge of the glade and climbed it as quietly as he could. He stepped onto a large branch about twenty feet from the ground. When he stood next to the trunk, he was virtually invisible but had a very good view.
The brown bear was in a small clearing and looking to the north towards the campsite. He knew the group tent was just ahead of him because he had seen the swans deliver it. He sniffed at the night air but couldn’t get any scent. He was deciding what to do. He wasn’t particularly hungry and was on more of a scouting trip for a possible future meal.
Meanwhile, Wilder snuck up on the left side. He also found a tree from which he could see the bear. The branch he climbed out on was fifteen feet above the forest floor.
Now both weasels were in position and ready.
A high-pitched scream pierced the night. It sounded like someone dragging their fingernails across a blackboard but much louder. Everyone heard it, especially the bear. He rapidly swung his head to the left, in the direction of Wilde. He saw nothing.
A second, even louder, scream came from his right. The bear swung around and looked in Wilder’s direction. Again, he saw nothing.
The screams startled the bear (and everyone in the tent) but also let each brother know that they were in position. Every thirty seconds they alternated screams.
The weasels opened their bags, and each pulled out an impressive looking sling-shot. They also took out a bunch of large nuts.
After one of Wilder’s screams, the bear started to lumber in his direction. Wilde took careful aim and fired. The nut shot through the air and caught the bear directly in the rear. He turned, jumped up on his two hind legs, and roared. Then, he started in Wilde’s direction.
Wilder fired. His nut also found its mark. The bear jumped around and roared again. He stood there looking left and right. Wilde then let out a double scream. Wilder did the same. That was the signal for the barrage. Both weasels began firing freely. About half of the nuts hit the bear. In response to the attack, he backed up. He stood as tall as he could with paws flailing at the nuts that he couldn’t see coming— enraged and frustrated. Then, one nut hit him squarely on the nose. Bears have very sensitive noses, and this hit stung. He howled. That was enough for him. He turned and ran south into the woods. He kept running across the creek until he was out of sight and then out of hearing. The weasels had won their greatest battle ever. They packed their bags and climbed down from the trees. Wilde and Wilder met in the clearing, which was now bear-less and hugged.
Wilde said, “Well done, brother. We make a good team.”
Wilder agreed, “We sure do. Bring on another bear.”
They walked back to the tent and announced that they had beaten the bear. Everyone congratulated and thanked them. For the next hour they retold the story several times. Everyone was very excited but eventually settled down. Now, thanks to the weasels, all could enjoy a restful sleep.
The second day went well, and nothing exciting happened. That was probably good. The terrain started to slope upward as they got closer to The Hills. The trees were smaller, and there were more wildflower fields. Now, they were too far from the church bell to hear it. The second camp site was easily located, and they had a peaceful night.
The third day dawned. As they got ready, there was a sense of excitement because today they would reach the cave. After a breakfast of berries, greens, and tea, they set off. Bartholomew advised them to store extra food in their backpacks. The hike would be uphill all day, but it was not a steep climb. The land was open now, and fabulous views stretched in all directions. Their goal was also clearly in sight, the highest hill in The Hills. A mixture of grasses, heather, and large rocks covered the sloping ground that led to its soft peak.
Occasionally, Bartholomew let Finn lead the way until he tired from hopping uphill. Then, he hitched a ride on somebody’s back. Frequently, it was Wilder’s.
Bartholomew sent Branna ahead to locate the cave opening and determine the best approach to it. It only took her five minutes to reach the peak. She landed on a small rock at the very top. A lush, green and blue panorama stretched out in all directions before her. She had seen many similar views before because, after all, she was a bird. So, perhaps, she was not as impressed as you or I might have been. Still, she perched there on the rock and marveled at the scenery. Branna loved nature.
After a brief rest she searched the north side of the hill, looking for the cave entrance. At first she didn’t see it because it was small and partially hidden by rocks. On her third pass she spotted it. She also noticed that there were more rocks on the west side of the hill than the east side. The eastern side would be the best path to the cave. She returned to the group and reported her observations and recommendations.
In the late afternoon, clouds began to build in the western sky. As we know, Grenby had predicted the possibility of thundershowers this week. Bartholomew hoped they would reach the cave before any rain reached them. It was not to be.
The storm gathered quickly. As they walked, they watched the growing thunderheads in the distance. Eventually, lightning appeared in the clouds and occasionally made contact with the ground. Dark sheets of rain appeared. The storm was headed towards them! The southwest wind increased as clouds rolled overhead. Even though they were tired, they walked faster and tried to reach the cave before the storm. They almost made it. About two hundred yards short of the entrance, the rain came in torrents. Most were thoroughly soaked in the remaining two minutes it took to reach shelter. The bluebirds chose not to be martyrs and flew to the cave ahead of the others. Bartholomew stayed with the group.
Once inside, they immediately
noticed that the cave was very, very dark. Bartholomew unpacked the torches and lighted three of them. Now, they could settle down and dry off. Conveniently, there were many sticks and small pieces of wood lying around. They gathered the fuel and soon had a toasty, warm fire. What a difference that made! Everyone huddled around it to dry off. Also, it was a good time to eat the berries they had picked and packed in the morning. They were tired but exhilarated at having reached their goal, the location of the puzzle.
Bartholomew observed that the smoke from their fire was not going out the entrance but back into the cave. That could mean there was another entrance. Curious, he thought.
He spotted the flat stone described in Cyrus’s letter. It would take some effort to move that rock and dig down three feet. It was best done after they were well rested. He suggested that the retrieval of the box wait until morning. Most of the animals agreed. The weasels and Finn did not.
Once the stormy weather had begun, it stayed. The animals made their beds as best they could on the hard dirt floor. The adventurers eventually fell asleep as the fire threw dancing shadows on the rock walls and ceiling.
Finn was the first to awake in the morning. He hardly knew it was morning because so little light came through the cave entrance. He hopped over and looked at the one-foot square stone. Obviously, it was not there naturally. It had been placed by Cyrus and others to mark the box location. Digging it up should not prove too difficult. Nevertheless, it had been settling in for ninety years.
“How do you think we should proceed?” asked Bartholomew, who had come up to stand behind him.
Finn had been thinking about that. “I think we should use a rock and stick to wedge up the stone. Then, we can slide it over and start digging.”
“Right! That is exactly what we will do right after breakfast.”
Finn smiled. He was having a great time on the adventure. More importantly, he appreciated the confidence Bartholomew was showing in him.
Shortly thereafter, everyone woke and ate breakfast so fast that they probably didn’t even chew. After breakfast Bartholomew found a suitable rock and a pointed stick. The squirrels dug the dirt from the edges of the stone. Then, the weasels wedged it up a little with the stone and stick. They slid the stone sideways. The dirt was softer underneath, but it would still take some time to dig down the three feet. The squirrels dug the first foot. Robbie and Birch went one foot deeper. The weasels made the hole three feet deep. No box yet.
Bartholomew said, “A little deeper.”
Wilde said, “I hit something hard.” He had!
The top of an old wooden box began to appear after its ninety years of darkness. They brushed the dirt away and dug around its sides. The wood had decayed and its hinges were rusted, but it was still in one piece. Wilde carefully lifted it from the hole and gave it to Wilder. He set the old box on the cave floor.
No one said anything.
Bartholomew examined it, unlatched the rusted clasp, and opened the lid. Everyone bent over, trying to see inside. They saw a small, yellowed envelope resting on top of some pieces of wood. The unsealed envelope was addressed to:
The Residents of Ballymore
He carefully picked it up, opened its flap, and slid out a piece of thick, yellowed paper. The neat writing on it had faded but was still readable:
In the bell tower of the church, at the south wall, at the floor, behind the stone: a box.
Cyrus Owl,
Midsummer’s Eve, 1801
“What does it say?” asked Sofie.
“It is the directions to the location of the next box from Cyrus Owl,” answered Bartholomew.
Before the next question was asked, he said, “I will not reveal its location now but will wait until it’s time for the next expedition.”
Then, everyone’s attention returned to the wooden pieces in the box. Bartholomew picked up one of them. It was beautifully polished in a rich mahogany finish. It was in the shape of a piece of a puzzle and about two inches square. Bartholomew turned it over. Engraved in the wood were three gold letters: QUV. He placed the wooden piece on a blanket. The remaining six pieces of the puzzle were placed next to the first. Their condition was excellent, considering that they had been buried for so long.
After moving them around, Bartholomew found that they interlocked with each other to form a line of writing:
MLSE QUV ZAILSD QUFQ
He looked at the letters and said, “It is part of a coded message that will tell us where the gift is. The decode key will be given later, I assume. Congratulations, everybody! We have completed the first step in solving the puzzle.”
All of the animals applauded.
Bartholomew carefully wrapped the wooden pieces and note in a cloth and put them in his pack. He then asked Sedgewick to see that the box was reburied, the hole closed, and the stone replaced.
Then, Robbie yelled, “Hey, where’s Finn?”
After the box was opened, Finn had quietly slipped away to explore the back of the cave. He took a candle with him. His curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he couldn’t resist.
Finn found a small tunnel at the back of the cave and followed it a short distance. After about ten feet the tunnel turned to the right. He went another ten feet and thought he saw some kind of opening in the rock wall. He hopped over to it and leaned in closer with the candle.
Suddenly, he started to slip and slide downwards. He let out a brief yelp, but no one heard him. There was nothing to grab onto, even though he tried. After about twenty seconds the curvy ride ended, and he found himself on a ledge, facing a wall. He had dropped his candle on the ledge but, somehow, was still able to see. The rock wall was smooth and seemed to be reflecting light. He slowly turned around and was absolutely amazed.
He was in a large luminous cavern. The walls were bathed in a thousand hues of violet and blue radiance. In many places they sparkled. Hundreds of slender long fingers of rock hung from the ceiling. Some of them were dripping blue velvet water. The translucent drops fell about thirty feet into a large, blue pool and rippled its surface. Each drop, when it hit, created an echo. In one place swirling columns of bubbles came from below and seemed to jump out of the water. The bubbles fizzed as they broke. The slow movement of the water was reflected on the walls and ceiling of the cavern and animated everything.
This magical atmosphere was made visible by diffuse light that was, somehow, filtering in from above.
Finn was bedazzled. He had never even dreamed of an adventure this extraordinary. The ledge he was on was ten feet above the pool. To his left, were rock steps that led down to the water. To his right, the steps rose about twenty feet and then disappeared from view. He picked up his candle and carefully edged his way down the steps.
Luminous Underground Lake
The crystal-clear, blue water seemed to have no bottom. The walls under the water also glowed but much less bright than above. He dipped one leg in the water. Oh, my! It was warm! That was as far as he dared go. He stood there amazed.
“Finn, Finn, where are you?”
Bartholomew had sent the weasels to locate Finn and bring him back. At first the sound from above startled him, but he soon recognized Wilder’s voice.
“I’m down here,” he yelled. “I found an underground lake!”
A minute later, Wilde and Wilder crept down the stone steps and saw the amazing sight, also. For a while they said nothing.
Eventually, Wilder said, “Are we dreaming?”
“No, this is real,” answered Wilde. “Everybody should see this. I’m going to tell them about it. Stay here, and don’t go in the water.”
He climbed back up the steps and returned to the main cave. The animals were waiting for the weasels’ return with Finn. They hadn’t expected the incredible story Wilde brought back with him. Upon hearing it, everyone started to run towards the tunnel that led to the steps.
Bartholomew yelled, “Stop! Wait!”
“I would like to see this cavern as much as a
nyone, but let us not rush. I will lead the way, slowly.”
The animals agreed and let Bartholomew and Wilde go first.
Wilde led them to the steps, which they carefully descended. Each of them gasped as the underground lake came into view. They stood on the ledge and steps in silent awe. Branna and Brie briefly flew out over the water.
“Bartholomew, what this is?” asked Sedgewick.
“I believe it is an underground cavern with phosphorescent rock. When the light hits the minerals in the rock, it creates the colors. I have never seen anything like this but have read about it. The pool may be very deep and, probably, is not safe. The water could be warm.”
