CHAPTER 2. DIGGING FOR TREASURE
I am afraid the last chapter was rather dull. It is always dull in bookswhen people talk and talk, and don't do anything, but I was obliged toput it in, or else you wouldn't have understood all the rest. The bestpart of books is when things are happening. That is the best part ofreal things too. This is why I shall not tell you in this story aboutall the days when nothing happened. You will not catch me saying, 'thusthe sad days passed slowly by'--or 'the years rolled on their wearycourse'--or 'time went on'--because it is silly; of course time goeson--whether you say so or not. So I shall just tell you the nice,interesting parts--and in between you will understand that we had ourmeals and got up and went to bed, and dull things like that. It would besickening to write all that down, though of course it happens. I saidso to Albert-next-door's uncle, who writes books, and he said, 'Quiteright, that's what we call selection, a necessity of true art.' And heis very clever indeed. So you see.
I have often thought that if the people who write books for childrenknew a little more it would be better. I shall not tell you anythingabout us except what I should like to know about if I was reading thestory and you were writing it. Albert's uncle says I ought to have putthis in the preface, but I never read prefaces, and it is not much goodwriting things just for people to skip. I wonder other authors havenever thought of this.
Well, when we had agreed to dig for treasure we all went down into thecellar and lighted the gas. Oswald would have liked to dig there, butit is stone flags. We looked among the old boxes and broken chairs andfenders and empty bottles and things, and at last we found the spades wehad to dig in the sand with when we went to the seaside three years ago.They are not silly, babyish, wooden spades, that split if you look atthem, but good iron, with a blue mark across the top of the iron part,and yellow wooden handles. We wasted a little time getting them dusted,because the girls wouldn't dig with spades that had cobwebs on them.Girls would never do for African explorers or anything like that, theyare too beastly particular.
It was no use doing the thing by halves. We marked out a sort of squarein the mouldy part of the garden, about three yards across, and beganto dig. But we found nothing except worms and stones--and the ground wasvery hard.
So we thought we'd try another part of the garden, and we found aplace in the big round flower bed, where the ground was much softer. Wethought we'd make a smaller hole to begin with, and it was much better.We dug and dug and dug, and it was jolly hard work! We got very hotdigging, but we found nothing.
Presently Albert-next-door looked over the wall. We do not like him verymuch, but we let him play with us sometimes, because his father is dead,and you must not be unkind to orphans, even if their mothers arealive. Albert is always very tidy. He wears frilly collars and velvetknickerbockers. I can't think how he can bear to.
So we said, 'Hallo!'
And he said, 'What are you up to?'
'We're digging for treasure,' said Alice; 'an ancient parchment revealedto us the place of concealment. Come over and help us. When we havedug deep enough we shall find a great pot of red clay, full of gold andprecious jewels.'
Albert-next-door only sniggered and said, 'What silly nonsense!' Hecannot play properly at all. It is very strange, because he has a verynice uncle. You see, Albert-next-door doesn't care for reading, and hehas not read nearly so many books as we have, so he is very foolish andignorant, but it cannot be helped, and you just have to put up with itwhen you want him to do anything. Besides, it is wrong to be angry withpeople for not being so clever as you are yourself. It is not alwaystheir faults.
So Oswald said, 'Come and dig! Then you shall share the treasure whenwe've found it.'
But he said, 'I shan't--I don't like digging--and I'm just going in tomy tea.'
'Come along and dig, there's a good boy,' Alice said. 'You can use myspade. It's much the best--'
So he came along and dug, and when once he was over the wall we kept himat it, and we worked as well, of course, and the hole got deep. Pincherworked too--he is our dog and he is very good at digging. He digs forrats in the dustbin sometimes, and gets very dirty. But we love our dog,even when his face wants washing.
'I expect we shall have to make a tunnel,' Oswald said, 'to reach therich treasure.' So he jumped into the hole and began to dig at one side.After that we took it in turns to dig at the tunnel, and Pincher wasmost useful in scraping the earth out of the tunnel--he does it withhis back feet when you say 'Rats!' and he digs with his front ones, andburrows with his nose as well.
At last the tunnel was nearly a yard long, and big enough to creepalong to find the treasure, if only it had been a bit longer. Now it wasAlbert's turn to go in and dig, but he funked it.
'Take your turn like a man,' said Oswald--nobody can say that Oswalddoesn't take his turn like a man. But Albert wouldn't. So we had to makehim, because it was only fair.
'It's quite easy,' Alice said. 'You just crawl in and dig with yourhands. Then when you come out we can scrape out what you've done, withthe spades. Come--be a man. You won't notice it being dark in the tunnelif you shut your eyes tight. We've all been in except Dora--and shedoesn't like worms.'
'I don't like worms neither.' Albert-next-door said this; but weremembered how he had picked a fat red and black worm up in his fingersand thrown it at Dora only the day before. So we put him in.
But he would not go in head first, the proper way, and dig with hishands as we had done, and though Oswald was angry at the time, for hehates snivellers, yet afterwards he owned that perhaps it was justas well. You should never be afraid to own that perhaps you weremistaken--but it is cowardly to do it unless you are quite sure you arein the wrong.
'Let me go in feet first,' said Albert-next-door. 'I'll dig with myboots--I will truly, honour bright.'
So we let him get in feet first--and he did it very slowly and at lasthe was in, and only his head sticking out into the hole; and all therest of him in the tunnel.
'Now dig with your boots,' said Oswald; 'and, Alice, do catch hold ofPincher, he'll be digging again in another minute, and perhaps it wouldbe uncomfortable for Albert if Pincher threw the mould into his eyes.'
You should always try to think of these little things. Thinking of otherpeople's comfort makes them like you. Alice held Pincher, and we allshouted, 'Kick! dig with your feet, for all you're worth!'
So Albert-next-door began to dig with his feet, and we stood on theground over him, waiting--and all in a minute the ground gave way, andwe tumbled together in a heap: and when we got up there was a littleshallow hollow where we had been standing, and Albert-next-door wasunderneath, stuck quite fast, because the roof of the tunnel had tumbledin on him. He is a horribly unlucky boy to have anything to do with.
It was dreadful the way he cried and screamed, though he had to own itdidn't hurt, only it was rather heavy and he couldn't move his legs. Wewould have dug him out all right enough, in time, but he screamed so wewere afraid the police would come, so Dicky climbed over the wall, totell the cook there to tell Albert-next-door's uncle he had been buriedby mistake, and to come and help dig him out.
Dicky was a long time gone. We wondered what had become of him, and allthe while the screaming went on and on, for we had taken the loose earthoff Albert's face so that he could scream quite easily and comfortably.
Presently Dicky came back and Albert-next-door's uncle came with him. Hehas very long legs, and his hair is light and his face is brown. He hasbeen to sea, but now he writes books. I like him.
He told his nephew to stow it, so Albert did, and then he asked him ifhe was hurt--and Albert had to say he wasn't, for though he is a coward,and very unlucky, he is not a liar like some boys are.
'This promises to be a protracted if agreeable task,' saidAlbert-next-door's uncle, rubbing his hands and looking at the hole withAlbert's head in it. 'I will get another spade,' so he fetched the bigspade out of the next-door garden tool-shed, and began to dig his nephewout.
'Mind you keep
very still,' he said, 'or I might chunk a bit out of youwith the spade.' Then after a while he said--
'I confess that I am not absolutely insensible to the dramatic interestof the situation. My curiosity is excited. I own that I should like toknow how my nephew happened to be buried. But don't tell me if you'drather not. I suppose no force was used?'
'Only moral force,' said Alice. They used to talk a lot about moralforce at the High School where she went, and in case you don't know whatit means I'll tell you that it is making people do what they don't wantto, just by slanging them, or laughing at them, or promising them thingsif they're good.
'Only moral force, eh?' said Albert-next-door's uncle. 'Well?'
'Well,' Dora said, 'I'm very sorry it happened to Albert--I'd rather ithad been one of us. It would have been my turn to go into the tunnel,only I don't like worms, so they let me off. You see we were digging fortreasure.'
'Yes,' said Alice, 'and I think we were just coming to the undergroundpassage that leads to the secret hoard, when the tunnel fell in onAlbert. He _is_ so unlucky,' and she sighed.
Then Albert-next-door began to scream again, and his uncle wiped hisface--his own face, not Albert's--with his silk handkerchief, and thenhe put it in his trousers pocket. It seems a strange place to put ahandkerchief, but he had his coat and waistcoat off and I suppose hewanted the handkerchief handy. Digging is warm work.
He told Albert-next-door to drop it, or he wouldn't proceed furtherin the matter, so Albert stopped screaming, and presently his unclefinished digging him out. Albert did look so funny, with his hair alldusty and his velvet suit covered with mould and his face muddy withearth and crying.
We all said how sorry we were, but he wouldn't say a word back to us. Hewas most awfully sick to think he'd been the one buried, when it mightjust as well have been one of us. I felt myself that it was hard lines.
'So you were digging for treasure,' said Albert-next-door's uncle,wiping his face again with his handkerchief. 'Well, I fear that yourchances of success are small. I have made a careful study of the wholesubject. What I don't know about buried treasure is not worth knowing.And I never knew more than one coin buried in any one garden--and thatis generally--Hullo--what's that?'
He pointed to something shining in the hole he had just dragged Albertout of. Oswald picked it up. It was a half-crown. We looked at eachother, speechless with surprise and delight, like in books.
'Well, that's lucky, at all events,' said Albert-next-door's uncle.
'Let's see, that's fivepence each for you.'
'It's fourpence--something; I can't do fractions,' said Dicky; 'thereare seven of us, you see.'
'Oh, you count Albert as one of yourselves on this occasion, eh?'
'Of course,' said Alice; 'and I say, he was buried after all. Whyshouldn't we let him have the odd somethings, and we'll have fourpenceeach.'
We all agreed to do this, and told Albert-next-door we would bring hisshare as soon as we could get the half-crown changed. He cheered up alittle at that, and his uncle wiped his face again--he did look hot--andbegan to put on his coat and waistcoat.
When he had done it he stooped and picked up something. He held it up,and you will hardly believe it, but it is quite true--it was anotherhalf-crown!
'To think that there should be two!' he said; 'in all my experience ofburied treasure I never heard of such a thing!'
I wish Albert-next-door's uncle would come treasure-seeking with usregularly; he must have very sharp eyes: for Dora says she was lookingjust the minute before at the very place where the second half-crown waspicked up from, and _she_ never saw it.