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Authors: Bob Brooks,Karen Ross Ohlinger

Tales From the Glades of Ballymore (36 page)

BOOK: Tales From the Glades of Ballymore
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Wilde was not as confident as he sounded.  However, he and Wilder were always ready to help, and they always took the most dangerous jobs.  They would take this one, also.

 

There was plenty of old wood in the forest, but it took time to locate and bring it to the creek.  Most became involved with that task.  The ducks and swans began picking up the kindling that had been found.  They dropped the pieces on the ice near the middle of the ice jam.

 

Wilde and Wilder crept out onto the ice, carefully climbing over the jagged pieces.  Luckily, they had to go only about fifteen feet from shore.  Every once in a while, the ice cracked, and they jumped nervously.  When they reached the middle, they began to arrange the wood, which was already there.  The birds kept dropping more.  It was a slow process, and it was now dark.  Torches were lighted on both sides of the creek to help.  Everyone worked through the night with occasional short breaks.

 

By morning, a large pyramid shaped pile of sticks, branches, leaves, and other debris from the forest sat on the ice.

 

A bleary eyed Bartholomew said, “ I think that’s good enough.  Let’s light it.”

 

Wilde lighted the pile.  They stood back and watched as the flames grew high.  They could feel the heat building, which meant the ice could, also.  More wood was needed to keep the fire going.  It was too dangerous for the birds to drop the wood from directly above because of the flames and heat.  They dropped it on the ice where the weasels could reach it.  The ice was becoming even more slippery as the warmth spread.  While balancing on the uneven ice, the weasels continued to throw wood into the flames.

 

After about an hour the cracking and crunching sounds from the ice became louder and more frequent.  The heat was having an effect.

 

Bartholomew yelled out to the weasels, “I think you better come back to shore.  Something is going to happen.”

 

Wilde yelled back, “Yes, we hear it and feel it, but we can’t stop now because the heat has begun to work.  This is our only chance.  We have to keep feeding the fire for as long as we can.”

 

He threw another piece of wood on the burning pile.

 

About fifteen minutes later, the end came suddenly.  The ice jam exploded!

 

 

The Ice Dam

 

Flaming coals of wood and pieces of ice flew in all directions.  They were mixed in with a gusher of freezing water.  The animals were showered with this dangerous mess.  The weasels were hurled backward, further out onto the pond ice.  Luckily, it appeared that no one was injured.

 

Then, ice chunks and water began to move noisily into the creek like a tidal wave.  The ice dam had broken.  That was fantastic, but the weasels still had to get to safety.

 

They picked themselves up and began to step carefully over the shattered, moving ice.  Each step was slippery and uneven, but they were getting closer to shore.  Then, two pieces of ice separated as Wilde was trying to cross them.  He immediately fell into the frigid pond.  Wilder ran to him and tried to pull him out.  He couldn’t get a good grip on his brother, and now, the ice that had separated was closing back together.  Wilde would be trapped.

 

Then, Finn hopped out onto the ice to help.  He also reached out to Wilde.  Together, Wilder and Finn were able to pull Wilde out of the water before the ice hole closed.  Holding on to each other, the three cold and wet buddies made it safely to shore.  A cheer went up, and they were immediately surrounded.  Someone grabbed warm blankets, and each was soon wrapped up.  Cups of hot tea followed quickly.

 

The tidal wave of ice and water continued to rush down the creek.  It rapidly filled to its normal level.  The danger was passed.  Ballymore would not be flooded!

 

Everyone was exhausted, and they sat down by the campfire.  The new year had just begun, and Ballymore had almost been flooded.  Apparently, 1892 was not going to be boring either.  

 

Once again, the animal residents had come together to accomplish something that none of them could have done alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Gift

 

 

It was February 15th, and Bartholomew was standing in front of Grenby Goundhog’s hut.  Today was the day Grenby normally awoke from his long winter nap.  The owl knocked on the door and waited.  No answer.  Knock.  Knock.  Knock.  No answer.

 

Then, some grumbling and shuffling could be heard from inside the hut.  Bartholomew smiled and waited patiently.  Eventually, Grenby opened the door.  As usual, he was wearing his red and white striped pajamas and matching nightcap.  His eyes were barely open.

 

Looking out into the bright daylight he asked, “Who is it?”

 

“It’s Bartholomew, and it’s February 15th.  Rise and shine.”

 

“I know what day it is,” Grenby yawned.  “Give me a minute to wake up.  Come on in.  How about making some tea for us.  I can’t see the stove yet.”

 

“Of course,” said Bartholomew.  “You just sit at the table, and take your time.”

 

Bartholomew made the tea and sat down with Grenby.

 

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you.” 

 

He enjoyed teasing Grenby a little.

 

Grenby sipped his tea and looked up.  He still wasn’t very much awake.

 

“The good news is that everybody has missed your forecasts and is glad you’re awake for the new year.  The bad news is that we need to tear your hut apart a little.”

 

Grenby heard that.  “NOBODY is touching my hut!”

 

Bartholomew said, “Calm down.  It will be all right.”

 

Then, he explained about the latest note from Cyrus Owl, which they received from the mice.  Of course, Grenby was aware of the puzzle hunt and became interested.

 

“You mean there are pieces of the puzzle right here in my hut?”

 

“Yes, apparently so.”

 

“Well, let’s find them, but we must be careful,” said Grenby.

 

“Yes, very careful.”

 

That was enough teasing.  Bartholomew took the note from his shoulder bag and opened it.

 

“Here’s the note.  It says the box is buried at the southwest corner of the lower level.”

 

The two animals walked down to Grenby’s lower level and then to the southwest corner.

 

Grenby said, “Here we are, but where are we?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“This southwest corner was not the southwest corner ninety years ago,” Grenby said.  “I know I’ve expanded, and perhaps it has moved a few times.”

 

“Where do you think the corner was ninety years ago?” asked Bartholomew.

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“Hmmm,” said the owl, thinking.  “Well, if this level is larger than before, then it is still under the floor somewhere.  We might be standing on it.  We might have to dig up the whole floor to find it.”

 

Grenby didn’t like the sound of that idea and frowned.

 

“I will ask the beavers to come here and make recommendations,” said Bartholomew.

 

Grenby grumbled but didn’t object.

 

Later that day, they met with Burton and explained the situation.  He went to the lower level with them and looked at the floor.  After asking a few more questions, he drew a ten-foot circle on the stone floor.

 

“Based upon what you’ve said, this is the most likely area for the box to be hidden.  We’ll dig up small sections at a time.  We’ll remove and replace the stones as we go.  When we’re finished, the floor will probably be more level than it is now.”

 

Grenby liked the plan and asked if the beavers could relevel the whole floor.  Burton laughed and said yes when they had some spare time.

 

The next morning, Burton returned with Birch and Belva.  Bartholomew was already there.

 

First, they carefully dug up some of the stones and placed them in a corner of the room.  Then, they removed the exposed dirt down about twelve inches.  They found nothing unusual and replaced the dirt and stones.  They made the stones very level.

 

They were working on the fourth area of the floor when Birch’s shovel hit something hard.

 

“I found it,” he yelled even before anything was showing.  He was right.  The now familiar mahogany colored box appeared as they removed the dirt from around it.  However, they saw this one was a little different as they lifted it from the diggings.  The exterior was covered with an intricate but faded gold-leaf design.  It was even more beautiful than the others.

 

Bartholomew looked at the box and then opened the lid.  The animals leaned closer and peered inside.  They saw seven polished wood puzzle pieces and TWO envelopes.

 

Bartholomew removed the envelopes and opened them.

 

He read the first note to everyone:

 

Dear Ballymore Residents,

 

With the finding of this box, you now have all of the puzzle pieces.  Congratulations on a job well done.  We hope you enjoyed working together on this hunt.  Please continue to care for each other.

 

The second note contains the Code Key you will need to unlock the puzzle.

 

Yours faithfully, 

 

Cyrus Owl

Midsummer’s Eve, 1801

 

The animals congratulated each other.

 

Bartholomew said, “I’ll go home and put the puzzle together and decode it.  Please tell everybody that there will be a meeting at 11 bongs tomorrow morning at the pavilion.”

 

He left immediately, rushed home, and gathered all of the puzzle pieces on his table.  After he assembled them, the coded message read:

 

MLSE QUV ZAILSD QUFQ

MVVEZ QUV AJSE

MJKKJP QUV DKJP

QJ QUV ZVNIVQ NFYV

 

Now he had to decode it.  The second note had the following:

 

 
  • A = P
  • B = M
  • C = J
  • D = G
  • E = D
  • F = A
  • G = X
  • H = U
  • I = R
  • J = O
  • K = L
  • L = I
  • M = F
  • N = C
  • O = Z
  • P = W
  • Q = T
  • R = Q
  • S = N
  • T = K
  • U = H
  • V = E
  • W = B
  • X = Y
  • Y = V
  • Z = S

 

Decoded, the puzzle read:

 

FIND THE SPRING THAT

FEEDS THE POND

FOLLOW THE GLOW

TO THE SECRET CAVE

 

“Wow!” he exclaimed.

 

The gift was in an underwater cave.  There was only one animal capable of going there, Sam Snapping Turtle.

 

He studied the decoded note.  What kind of glow would be down in the cave?  Phosphorescent rocks!  The same as those in the underground lake they found in The Hills.  Amazing!

 

He gathered the pieces and note and put them in his shoulder bag.  Tomorrow would be an exciting day.

BOOK: Tales From the Glades of Ballymore
4.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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