It must have fallen off the shelves.
I picked it up. The pages were super yellow and faded-looking. The handwriting was the same as the page Vinny showed us. And there was a signature inside the back cover.
My heart started racing like crazy. Could this be the book Vinny was looking for? Could this be the rest of Sam Prentice’s journal?
I quickly glanced around the museum to make sure no one was around. Then I sat in my chair and flipped through the pages.
It turns out, Sam Prentice was a super-hard worker. He tried everything he could to harvest the settlement’s pathetic crops. He hunted every day. And built a wattle-and-daub cabin for his family.
He also tried to make peaceful trades with the Powhatans. And—this part really caught my eye—he buried stuff to trade with them later.
Sam Prentice’s last diary entry said how so many people in Jamestown were starving. Near the end of the diary, his handwriting got even worse. By the looks of things, he never made it. And neither did his family.
My hands started to shake when I saw what was at the bottom of the last page.
I hid the book in my pocket, then ran out the museum door. My feet couldn’t carry me to the dining hall fast enough.
I didn’t see Ryan and Billy anywhere. But just to be safe, I ducked down so those two food-grubbers wouldn’t notice me.
“Guys,” I whispered when I got to my table. “Look at this.” I pulled the diary out of my pocket and opened it to the last page.
Vinny was the first to say something. “Holy. Jeez.”
“Five hundred feet west of the B. E.?” said Perth.
“The handwriting isn’t clear,” I said. “He must have been weak from hunger. Or maybe the ink faded. Either way, we have to figure out what the B. E. is.”
“Wait a second,” said Vinny. “What about the big elm? There’s only one elm tree at camp. It’s near the edge of the clearing. I even have it on my map.”
We ran from the dining room to the big elm. Then, together we started walking west. Putting one foot in front of the other, and counting out loud with every step.
“One—two—three.” And then, after a few minutes, “one hundred—two hundred—three hundred…” Until finally we were almost there.
“Four ninety-seven … four ninety-eight … four ninety-nine—”
We all stopped dead in our tracks.
Exactly five hundred feet from the big elm was Ryan Horner’s hammock.
With who else lying in it, but Ryan Horner.
“You better tell me why you’re here, Cartboy,” he said.
Night Hunting
Dear Future Person Who Might Have My Life in Their Hands:
Ryan sat up and faced Vinny, Scot, Perth, and me. “Don’t move. The four of you. Do not take a single step.”
Then he called over his shoulder toward the cabin. “Hey, Billy. C’mere. We have some … visitors.”
Billy lumbered onto the cabin steps and flashed his toothless grin. “You mean treshpashers. How ’bout I teach ’em a lessssson?”
Billy’s meaty foot stepped toward us, so we turned around and ran.
All the way to our cabin. Without stopping.
The second we got inside, we collapsed onto our bunks. Scot had barely reached his bed before he grabbed the bottle of Purell.
He started slathering the Purell not just on his hands, but his arms too. As if it would wash away Ryan and Billy and the whole situation. “I’ll never get those tickets to One Direction now,” he said.
Perth dropped onto the bed next to mine. “There goes my three-speed bike. And the mood ring. And the Rainbow Loom. Not to mention the Double Stuf Oreos…”
“Front row. I would have been twenty feet from Harry. And Liam. And Zayn…”
Perth grabbed his stomach. “Uhhgh. This is not helping the digestive system.”
FAARRT.
The whole time Scot and Perth were talking, Vinny stayed quiet. I could tell he was thinking about what to do next. Finally he looked up at me. “I hate to give up the hunt, Hal. But let’s face it. Ryan is in that hammock all day.”
“True.” I took a deep breath. “But … he’s not there at night.”
“What are you saying, Hal? That we dig in the middle of the night?”
“We could.”
Perth sat straight up. “That’s crazy. First of all, we’d have to sneak past Theo. Just the thought of it gives me indigestion.”
FAAAAARRRT.
“Besides,” said Vinny, “we’d have to dig in the dark.”
I sat back on my bed and let out a big sigh. Vinny was right. Digging in the dark was a really dumb idea.
I was about to give up on the treasure too. But right at that second, I looked over at my cart. It was sitting in the corner of the cabin. Folded up. As if it were waiting for me to take it to school next year. To torture me even more.
I stood up, faced the guys, and cleared my throat. “Vinny. The first day of camp, what did you say about going home with the treasure?”
“That I wasn’t leaving without it.”
“And Scot, you just said how badly you want those concert tickets.”
“True.”
“And Perth. Just think: Pepto-Bismol. By the case. By the truckload, even.”
“Unhhhnnh,” said Perth from the bottom bunk next to mine.
Vinny ran his fingers along his rolled-up map. “We do know the treasure’s exact location now. I mean, it’s almost like we have to see if it’s there.”
“Okay, then it’s settled,” I said. “We leave at midnight. When Ryan, Billy, Theo, and the whole camp will be sound asleep.”
Just then, the wind knocked a tree branch into the side of our cabin. “I don’t know about tonight, Hal,” said Vinny. “Sounds like the wind is really picking up out there. I think there’s a storm coming.”
“Well, then, I guess we better dig fast.”
One thing we figured out pretty quickly is that even if it’s midnight, sneaking past a camp counselor is not easy. Especially one who tosses and turns. And talks nonstop in his sleep.
Theo:
Has anyone seen the meat thermometer?
Theo:
Hey, Susie, you look nice.
Theo:
Mm … candy canes … Thanks, Santa.
After about five false starts, we finally crept past Theo and out the door.
“Remember, everyone: complete silence,” I whispered when we got outside the cabin.
FART.
“C’mon, Perth. I know you can do it.”
WHOOOOSH.
“Okay, but what was that?”
“Nothing. Just the wind.”
“I think the storm is gonna be bad…”
“Let’s just get to the hammock.”
The truth is, I was having a pretty hard time keeping quiet myself. Seeing as how I kept tripping. Thanks to my dad’s flashlight.
Not only did it weigh about twenty pounds. But it also kept blinking on and off. Knowing my dad, he must have thought fresh batteries were a “needless extravagance.”
Finally we reached the hammock and started to dig. Perth managed to quiet down. But I had to admit, it was spooky out there. Majorly spooky.
The wind was howling and rain had started to fall.
WHOOOOSH!
A gust of wind whipped a branch across my face.
BANG!
Ryan’s hammock flew up and knocked something over.
BOOM. CREAK. GRRRR!
“What was that?” Scot’s voice was trembling in the dark. “It s-sounded like a human. Or a wounded animal. Or a wounded human…”
“Or a bear,” whispered Vinny.
Perth shone his flashlight on Vinny. “D-did you say b-bear?”
“I’m just saying, it’s possible,” whispered Vinny. “I mean, based on the story of ‘The Jamestown Boy Who Disappeared.’”
“What b-boy?” asked Perth.
“Legend has it that a boy disappeared near Camp
Jamestown back in the 1700s. He was last seen near the edge of the woods, close to the pond.”
Vinny smacked his shovel into the ground and lifted a pile of dirt. “They sent out a search party, but all they found was a patch of brown fur near the woods. Since the Powhatans believed bears had special powers, it was thought the bear took the boy in retaliation for when the settlers stole the Powhatans’ food.”
“Vinny, that’s impossible,” I started to say. But just then, my flashlight went out. And wouldn’t go back on.
It was so dark, I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. The pitch black made every noise seem ten times louder.
“Let’s just keep digging,” I said. “C’mon, guys. We are so close. We’re ninety percent there.”
We dug and dug. But the storm only got worse. The rain beat against our faces, and the wind whipped dirt everywhere.
And then came a noise so deep and low, it went straight to our bones.
GRHHHHHHHRRRRRGRRR …
We looked toward the woods. There, right next to a giant pine tree, was a huge shadow. It had a head and arms that looked like they were reaching out to grab us.
It was impossible to tell what it was.
And Scot and Perth didn’t stay around long enough to find out. They each let out a short scream:
“Ahh!”
“Ahh!”
Then they were gone. Headed back to Cabin 2 as fast as their legs could carry them.
“Should we go after them?” I whispered to Vinny.
“It’s no use,” he whispered back.
“I guess it’s down to us,” I said.
My flashlight flicked back on and shone in Vinny’s face. He looked wet. Dirty. And completely exhausted.
I could tell it was time to call off the dig for the night. And that if we had one more setback, Vinny would be out too.
Pie
Dear Buddy from Space with Potential Advanced Kid-Saving Technology:
Vinny and I trudged back to Cabin 2 and passed out the second our heads hit our pillows. I’m pretty sure I know how much sleep we got before the gourd blew for breakfast.
DOO DO DO LOOooo!
About three minutes.
My eyes were stuck shut, and so were Vinny’s. But somehow we put our feet on the floor and walked out the door. Somehow, we also managed to follow Theo across the clearing and to the dining hall.
“For some reason,” Theo said on the way, “I couldn’t wake up Scot and Perth. They must be exhausted from all the practice for Pioneer Day.”
“That must be it,” I said, trying to pull my eyelids open.
We sat as far from Ryan and Billy as we could. But even though there were twenty kids between us, Vinny and I could still see the two of them talking.
“They must be wondering where all those holes under the hammock came from,” Vinny whispered into my ear.
“Let’s not wait to find out.”
We hightailed it out of the dining room and into the clearing. Partly to avoid any questions from Ryan and Billy.
And partly because we had a lot to do. Pioneer Day was just a few days away. We needed to get in as much practice as we could.
Vinny and I made a list of every activity we really needed to improve on.
Since morning was free time, we decided to start with canoe building. A bunch of girls had already set up behind a big log by the pond, so we figured we’d join them.
“We can work on our log carving technique and hide from Ryan and Billy at the same time,” I said to Vinny.
As soon as we got to the pond, I grabbed a chisel and tried to gouge out some of the log.
“You want some advice?”
I looked up to see Cora standing above me, next to a nicely chiseled section of the log.
“First, you use an ax to scrape the bark off the log. Then you use a chisel to carve a groove in the top.”
Cora placed her chisel against the log. “Gently and smoothly. Right down the center. Leave about a foot on either side.”
I copied exactly what she did. Over and over again. And by the end of the morning, we had carved out a big hunk of the canoe. It actually started to look like something an Indian would have made in the 1600s.
“How is it possible that you could be so good at carving canoes?” I asked Cora. “And chopping wood. And shooting a bow and arrow. And spinning yarn, and—”
“I guess it’s in my blood. My ancestor on my mother’s side was a Powhatan. Her Indian name was—”
“Dancing butterfly.”
“Yes!” Cora stared down at her chisel for a minute—then she looked me in the eyes. “You know, Hal, you’re smarter than you think.”
“By the way,” she said, taking a step closer to me, “have you thought about whether you’re going to the dance?”
“Oh, the dance. Well, I, um, uh…”
All I knew was the last time I went to a dance was in sixth grade with Cindy Shano. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her the whole way there. And then I spilled a whole glass of punch on my tuxedo T-shirt when she tried to hold my hand.
“Well, Cora, I, um, uh—”
“Gotta run!” I said.
I put my chisel back on the log, and then sprinted to my table in the dining hall. Compared to all that dance talk, corn and beans actually sounded good.
I had barely finished my plate, when Mr. Prentice appeared at the kitchen door. “Hear ye, hear ye. In celebration of all your hard work in preparing for Pioneer Day, we shall have a very special treat for dessert today.”
He wheeled a table out from the kitchen, and my mouth popped open about a mile when I saw what was on it.
The best dessert in the history of the universe: banana cream pie.
My legs, all by themselves, walked to the dessert table. My hands, all on their own, picked up a piece of pie. And my fork dipped itself into the soft whipped cream topping.
The whipped cream would have made it into my mouth. Except for one thing.
“You weren’t actually thinking of eating that, were you, Cartboy?”
It took every ounce of energy I had to get the pie moving in Ryan’s direction. But when Ryan tried to take the plate, I couldn’t release it.
“Give it, Cartboy.”
“I c-can’t…”
“I said give it…”
He pulled, but my hand pulled back.
By the time Mr. Prentice walked up to us, we were having a full-on banana cream pie tug-a-thon.
“Mother of Rusty Muskets. What’s going on here?”
“Well, Mr. Prentice, Ryan tried to take my—”
Before I could finish, Ryan whispered two little words in my ear.
“Sweatpants. Wedgie.”
“—I mean, I was just … giving my dessert to Ryan. Banana cream pie is his favorite.”
And then my hand released it.
Mr. Prentice looked at Ryan and me. “I’m quite pleased to see ye conducting yeselves with such a generous pioneer spirit. As the great seventeenth-century philosopher, Ernest Dimnet, once said, ‘Friends in needeth are friends indeedeth.’”
I ran from the dining hall to the big log pile in the middle of camp and grabbed the first ax I saw. I aimed it at a piece of wood and swung hard.
Yes, I was mad. Yes, I wanted to hit something. And yes, the ax got stuck in the log and I couldn’t get it out.
I stood there yanking and pulling. And that’s when I noticed Cora had followed me.
“Why didn’t you stand up to that guy? Why did you let him trample all over you?”
“It’s hard to explain—”
“You want me to get him for you? I’ll take that jerk down with one karate chop to the jugular. I’ll crack his noggin open so wide, he won’t know what hit him. I’ll—”
“Maybe just let it go, Cora.”
“But—”
“Please.”
“Okay. You’re right, Hal. Besides, we’ve got bigger things to talk about. I mean … I’m just gonna say it
: Will you come with me to the dance?”
“Uh…”
“It will be fun. We’re decorating the dining hall with tons of Indian artifacts.”
“I, um, uh…” I stood there wiggling and squirming and trying to think of an answer. “Uh, um…”
I was still stalling when I happened to look in the direction of Ryan’s hammock. As soon as I saw it, I did a double take.
Even though lunch was over, the hammock was empty. Ryan was nowhere to be found.
I looked all around camp to see where he could be. And then I spotted him. He was on the back steps of the dining hall. Eating a whole banana cream pie. And getting a foot rub from Billy the Bully.
I looked back at Ryan’s empty hammock: This was our chance. Vinny and I had to go dig.
“What do you say, Hal? Will you go with me?” Cora asked again.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll go.” I was so busy looking at Ryan’s hammock, I wasn’t sure what I was saying. Did I just tell Cora I would go with her to the dance?
Whatever I had said, there was no time to think about it.
“I have to run,” I said. “I have to find Vinny.”
I sprinted inside the museum, where Vinny was spinning some yarn.
“Vinny. Ryan’s hammock is empty. We can dig. Hurry. Let’s go.”
Vinny looked in the direction of Ryan’s hammock and then back at me. “Um, there’s no way.”
“Look. Ryan is behind the dining hall with Billy. By the looks of things, they’ll be busy for at least another half hour.”
“No, thanks.”
“Vinny, this might be our last chance.”
“I know. But if Billy and Ryan catch us, we’re dead. Plus, I’ve been thinking. Maybe the B. E. is not the big elm.”
“There’s one way to find out.” I gave Vinny my most begging-y look.
Cartboy Goes to Camp Page 4
