ChapterSixteen
Search for the Key
The boys met the next morning on the fish shop steps, their usual meeting place. Rev, after a quick perusal of the note, soon figured out a possibility.
"Remember that day when you two followed the paths leading from the stones. You said that the paths always led to a barrow. Are you absolutely sure of that? Wasn't one missing?"
"I can't answer that. We didn't follow them all."
"What d'ya mean, P.C.?"
"Well it was quite a distance from the centre of the circle to a barrow and we thought it a bit pointless to follow all the paths. They all seemed to be the same."
"Which ones didn't you follow?"
"The ones leading to Bardsea, Urswick and the Priory."
"You mean you only followed half of them!!"
"Hang on there, Rev. If you think about it, there's only one we haven't followed."
"How come?"
"Where did the tunnels lead to?"
"I get your point, Henry. So the only one you didn't follow was the path leading to the Priory. I think that's where we should be looking."
"Wait a minute. How can we possibly find something that's missing?"
P.C's obvious comment brought the discussion to a temporary halt. Rev moved to the top step, sat down with his back to the door, and adopted his thinking pose, hands clasped and held to his mouth.
"You did say that the barrows all seemed to be the same distance from the circle didn't you."
"Yeah! Several times," said P.C.
"Then all we have to do is walk that same distance in the direction of the Priory and we've got it. Did you measure the distance?"
P.C. and Henry looked guiltily at each other and shook their heads.
"Bloody Hell, you two are hopeless."
"No need to swear, Rev. All we have to do is go up to the circle and count how many strides it takes to get to one of the barrows, then stride out the same number along the path leading to the Priory. That should take us right to the oak."
"Wouldn't it be easier to use a map?" suggested P.C.
Rev had been thinking exactly the same thing. "Hang on a minute. I'll just dash home. My Dad has a map we could borrow." He returned a few minutes later, a large ordinance survey map tucked under his left arm, a ruler and a lethal looking metal dart held in his right hand.
"What's that?' asked Henry.
"A compass," replied Rev.
"It doesn't look like any compass I've ever seen. Where's the needle pointing to the North Pole?"
"It's not that sort of compass, Henry. It's used to draw circles. Let me show you."
Rev took a newly sharpened pencil from his pocket and slid it through the hole on one of the two arms of the compass. He closed the arms and made sure the point of the pencil and the tip of the metal spike on the other arm were perfectly aligned."Now all you do is stick the metal point in the paper, open the arms then turn the pencil arm keeping the metal point fixed all the time."
"I get it," squealed Henry. "The metal point has to be placed on the map in the position of the stones, the arms spread so that the pencil point is on one of the barrows and draw a circle."
"P.C., would you unfold the map for me? On the top step."
P.C., even though he had suggested the use of a map, had no idea what was happening. Rev sensed this. "Just watch, P.C."
Rev placed the metal point in the centre of the Druid Circle, clearly marked on the detailed map, and then hesitated. No barrows were shown. "I have a pretty good idea where Ellerbarrow is," he muttered, before opening the arms of the compass to the appropriate distance.
Henry and P.C watched intently as Rev smoothly drew the circle. It passed close to all the villages he had marked when mapping the circle. "Now this isn't going to be exact, but it'll give us a rough idea of where to look," said Rev taking up his ruler, and drawing a line from the centre of the circle towards the Priory. "It looks like the oak is pretty close to where the Roman road crossed the coast road."
"How do you know that?" asked P.C.
"It's where the straight line crosses the circle."
"If you say so."
"Heck that's not far. We could get there in half an hour on our bikes. Let's go."
"Hang on there, Henry. I can't go 'til this afternoon. I've got to go to the doctors later this morning."
"What for, Rev?'
"A check-up for school."
The three boys met just after lunch at the top of Springfield Lane and agreed not to race. They would share the spoils. Their route took them past Swarthmoor Hall, the Meeting House and Mountbarrow, sites they now could place in their historical context. Peddaling at a leisurely pace, they reached the road junction in just under an hour. There was no sign of an oak. Stately elms flanked the coast road. A dense hedgerow in full bloom prevented a view of the fields adjacent to the Roman road.
"I told you we might be off a bit," said Rev. "Let's head up to the Priory entrance and look there."
P.C. spotted them just as they approached the ornate Priory gates. "Look over there," he shouted, arms pointing to a large stand of oaks in a nearby field. "They're huge."The trees, situated about a hundred yards from the iron fence, were obviously of a great age.
"This isn't going to be easy, fellas," said Rev. Just look . Over there, to the right of the trees. Cripes he's a big un." There, gently grazing in the shade of the trees stood a monstrous bull.
"I'm not going in there," bewailed a terrified Henry.
"Don't be such a sissy, Henry. I'll take care of the bull."
"How?"
"Just watch."P.C. nonchalantly removed his pullover and his blue, short-sleeved shirt."Now when I give the word start yelling like Hell, and I'll start waving my shirt."
"Isn't it supposed to be red?" asked Henry.
"I don't think so. I've heard that bulls are attracted by noise and movement, so let's give it a go."
Their first attempt was a failure. Despite a horrendous hullabaloo and frantic waving of the shirt, Ferdinand showed little interest. He responded by raising his head, giving them a momentary glare, and casually returning to his grazing.
"I'd better get in the field."
"Be careful, P.C."
P.C., scaled the iron railing, jumped in to the field, and started running towards the bull waving his shirt. Rev and Henry gave him a raucous accompaniment. The bull responded by pawing the ground, snorting, and charging head down towards P.C. who fled for the safety of the fence. Safely over the fence, P.C. turned and faced the bellowing bull, attempting in best matador fashion to stare Ferdinand in to submission. The bull was unfazed and continued to thrust his razor sharp horns through the iron bars in an attempt to rake P.C's naked torso.
"I'll try and get him to move away from the oaks," shouted P.C., as he moved down the road on the edge of the field. From time to time, he climbed back on to the fence, leaned over, and waved his shirt. The beast followed. P.C. waited until the bull was almost upon him, then jumped down from the railing and moved away again, heading towards a farm situated at the far end of the field. Eventually the bull was lured away to what Rev considered to be a safe distance.
"Okay, Henry. Time for you to go. The bull's far enough away now."
"No way, Rev. You're not getting me into that field. Remember the ram in Bush Valley. Animals can detect my fear at great distances. Get me in that field and the bull will be back in an instant."
"You're such a chicken. Just keep an eye out for me and I'll go and see if I can find anything."
Henry sat perched on the railing and watched as Rev made his way at the double to the shelter of the trees. Once there, he was difficult to see except when he emerged in the upper branches. He didn't seem to be having much luck. Henry thought he should only be looking at the oldest trees since the treasure must have been put there centuries ago....
"How's it going, Henry?" P.C. had unexpectedly returned.
"Where's the bull?"
"No problem. There's a bunch of heifers over there in the farmyard. They seem to be keeping his attention."
"Where's your shirt?"
"Ferdinand's got it."
"Boy, your mother's going to be mad."
Just then Rev emerged from the clump of trees shouting and waving frantically. It was the wrong thing to do. Ferdinand spotted him and came charging back up the field. Rev was not known for his athleticism. P.C. had never seen him move so fast, but Ferdinand was closing rapidly, ready to gore the fleeing boy. The ragged remains of P.C's shirt came to Rev's aid. It fell over the bull's eyes and brought the beast to a temporary halt. Ferdinand lowered his head to the ground and attempted to remove the shirt from his horns using his front hooves. The short pause enabled a breathless Rev to vault the fence.
"Phew, that was close," panted Rev. "That was stupid of me to wave and holler like that. At least we won't have to go in there again."
"Why, did you find something?"
"Sure did, Henry. Look at this." Slowly and deliberately, Rev unclenched the fingers of his right hand to reveal a badly corroded metal rod about two inches long with a small bulge about half an inch from the end. "This must be the key. It looks pretty old. I wonder what it opens."
The lock it turns is hard to find
But friends unknown will lift the blind.