"Your turn," she declared.
While the day-camp children, Mrs. Turnbull, and the bald-headed man watched, Nancy continued to dig. When her arms got tired, she looked at George.
"You're next if I don't hit something," she said, and shoved the spade down once more. There was a slight clang of metal against metal. Nancy exclaimed, "I hit something hard!"
"It must be the treasure!" Tessie cried out, jumping up and down.
CHAPTER XIIIDoubloons!
Nancy lifted Tessie into the hole, and she dug the objects out with her toy shovel. As she handed up a battered tin knife and spoon, she squealed in delight. "Did pirates leave these?"
"I don't know," Nancy replied.
"They could have been utensils dropped by a picnicker and buried in the sand," George pointed out.
Bess examined the pieces carefully. "I'm sure they're very old," she said. "They're probably from a pirate ship."
"Can I keep them?" Tessie begged.
"Maybe," Nancy replied.
Tessie looked for more treasure, but reported that there was nothing. Nancy helped her climb out, then offered to dig deeper. A few minutes later, she stopped suddenly and stepped out.
"Tessie, go down and feel around in the sand."
In a few seconds the little girl handed up a coin. Nancy looked at it and exclaimed, "This is a doubloon! A Spanish doubloon!"
Tessie wanted to know what a doubloon was. Bess explained that many years ago Spanish ships sailed across the ocean to Mexico, which was not far from Florida.
"They captured people and had them do all sorts of work. One thing was to make coins like those they had in Spain. They were called doubloons and were made of pure gold,"
Tessie tried to dig farther, but found it impossible. She had hit solid coral rock. The little girl looked up at Nancy and said, "Please lift me out and then you dig."
Nancy complied. She assumed that the coral rock had been there a long time, but suspected that something precious might have been buried before the tiny polyps had built their pile of rock on top of it.
She chipped at the coral with the spade, and presently saw a few more doubloons. She handed them up to Tessie, then Nancy broke off more of the rock. In a few moments she climbed out of the hole, but helped Tessie down.
This tune the little girl exclaimed, "Oh, I found a bracelet!" and climbed out.
Nancy explained that all treasure found must be taken to police headquarters and listed. "You can't keep everything you find," she added. "It's against the law."
George scraped the hole thoroughly, but found nothing more, and came back up.
"Now I suppose we must put all that sand back," Bess said with a sigh.
"Of course," George replied. "Otherwise someone could fall in and get hurt. Here, my dear cousin, you haven't been digging for a while. You start."
Bess did not look very happy, and the bald-beaded man stepped tip. "Don't worry, I'll do it for you," he offered, and took the spade.
With powerful arms he threw the sand back into the hole and soon the beach looked just as it had before.
"Thanks," Bess said. "That was very nice of you."
"Don't mention it. Want an ice cream?"
"Oh—no, thanks. I—I'm on a diet."
The man smiled and left to take his spade back to the car.
George chuckled. "How come you're turning down food?"
Bess blushed. "As I said, I'm on a diet!"
George and Nancy laughed. "Best joke I've heard in years!" George exclaimed. "If he had been young and handsome, Bess would have eaten three banana splits!"
Mrs. Turnbull's children became restless now that the treasure hunt was over and asked if they could have their lunch. The woman nodded and again thanked Nancy for rescuing Tessie. She promised to take the treasure to the authorities on their way home, then beckoned her charges toward the grove. The children waved good-by and followed the woman.
After they had gone, Nancy said, "I'm sore someone else found the rest of that treasure."
"I hope he reported it," George said, grinning.
The three friends walked along the beach.
"From Mrs. Cosgrove's description," Nancy said, "this should be the way to the old lighthouse."
"You're right," George confirmed a few seconds later, when they saw the building inside a fenced area. It was about sixty feet in height, cone-shaped, and made of brick.
Several other visitors, including a group of boy scouts, had gathered in front of the gate and the girls joined them. "The tour will begin in a few minutes," the scoutmaster told them.
He had hardly finished speaking, when an attractive young woman in a ranger's uniform unlocked the gate. She admitted the visitors and led them around the lighthouse toward the water. They went up to a small porch and gathered around her as she talked about the building's history.
"This lighthouse hasn't been used for years," she said, "because others have been built farther out in the bay. However, it has an interesting background. This building is not the original one."
"What happened to that one?" a scout asked.
"It was burned."
"Was anyone in it?"
"Unfortunately, yes. The lighthouse keeper John Thompson and his black assistant. It was dangerous living out here at that time because the Indians who occupied this territory were not friendly. Many of the Seminoles had had their wives and children taken away by white people, who made them slaves. Naturally they were furious and did everything they could to retaliate.
"One night a crowd of Indians came here. A circular stairway led to the top, where the great lantern was. The Seminoles set the old wooden building on fire to prevent the keeper and his assistant from escaping. The two men hid in the tower, but bullets whizzed at them continuously. The black man was shot and died, and the keeper was wounded. But the fire attracted the attention of two ships offshore."
"Did anyone come to rescue them?" Bess asked anxiously.
"Yes, but meanwhile John Thompson rolled a keg of powder down the stairway. When it hit the fire below, the powder exploded and the Indians ran for their lives!"
"Good!" a boy scout exclaimed. "But did Mr. Thompson get saved?"
"Yes, but the rescuers almost failed. When the ships got closer to the lighthouse, they sent out a lifeboat, but the crew realized that it would be impossible to climb to the top of the tower. Instead, they tried sending out a kite from which there was a stout cord for Mr. Thompson to grab. Unfortunately he wasn't able to, so they tied the twine to a ramrod and fired it from a musket. This time Thompson grabbed the cord and used it to haul up heavier rope. On it two men climbed to the tower room to take care of him. He reached the ground safely."
"I'm glad to hear that," Bess said.
"The black man was buried," the ranger went on, "but I've never seen his grave. It was unmarked so the Indians couldn't find it."
She let the visitors inside the lighthouse, which had been modernized and had an upstairs bedroom. After they had inspected the sparse but comfortable furnishings, they went down again and walked outside.
"I want to show you some of the bushes around here," the ranger said, pointing to a shrub. "This is called an inkberry bush. It was used by the Indians and the early settlers of the area to write letters with."
"How?" one of the boy scouts wanted to know.
"The liquid from its berries is just like ink," the ranger replied. From a little basket that she carried on her wrist, she took a number of small plastic bags. Each contained an inkberry. She handed them out to the visitors as souvenirs.
"These berries were also used to make a dye," she explained. "When you get home, try to write with the ink."
The boy scouts giggled. "On regular paper?"
"Sure. White paper, yellow paper. You can even use a paper bag."
Next the young woman pointed out a bush called sea grape. "This yields fruit to make jelly," she said. "But notice the leaves. They are very thick, and you can write on them." She took one off the bush, picked up a small stick from the ground, and wrote: