Chapter 7: The Hunt Begins

It was an emotion that Mist didn’t expect.  As he lay in his bed that night with the old journal clutched to his chest, a tear rolled down his cheek.  It was so strange.  His body coursed with adrenaline and his mind spun thinking about the possibilities of finding a real treasure.  And not just any treasure, but Meriwether Lewis’!  Mist’s father had always dreamed with Mist about becoming a treasure hunter.  There was always a plan rolling in the back of his mind that he was eager to share with Mist.  This was especially true at night when they would lay in bed and dream up escapades beyond Detroit, beyond the Midwest, beyond the world.  Mist could almost hear his dad’s voice say, “Go for it!”

            Mist sat straight up in bed, his teary remembrance of his father fading into the dark and a new resolve on his face.  He was going to do it!  As quickly and quietly as he could, he slipped into his black jacket and grabbed his bag of animals and the Tiger’s Eye.  He knew where he was going; the cave up the mountain to the East of town.  Mist had heard Stu talking about his dad, Hugh, guarding the cave because that was wehre he thought the treasure was.  Boy, was Hugh mistaken.  As Mist had read over the next few pages of Lewis’ journal, he made a discovery.  He had learned that Lewis did not want to share the treasure with Clark.  In fact he was working a plan in order to hide the secret location of the treasure from the eyes of the rest of the Corps of Discovery. 

            The iron theodolite that Lewis had traded was actually the key to finding the hidden treasure.  There were drawings in the journal of the sight.  It had three beautifully hammered bronze legs that locked together to be the base and a compass rose etched onto a circular brass plate.  Fitted above the compass was a telescope on a bracket that could adjust the angle.  The drawings in the journal were beautiful.  Not only did they let Mist know what he was looking for, but also explained just how to use it. 

December 3, 1805

I have sent the others in the party up the mountain to search for elk.  I need time to break down the theodolite and hide it.  With such an outstanding treasure available I need fewer eyes watching me.  I will return after this mission is complete and retrieve the treasure.

            Mist read and reread the next section of journal that described and diagrammed the directions to the pieces.  He couldn’t believe he was really looking at a treasure map.  As quietly as possible, Mist slipped up the stairs.  He would need to sneak out without Agnes finding out, or he would be in deep trouble.  Each step creaked the stairs just a bit.  And with each step Mist held his breath.  He looked down and carefully placed his foot.  Step by step he inched his way out of his basement.  About four steps from the top, Mist heard a swishing sound and lifted his eyes.  In the darkness he could tell that he was face to face with ChaiTea.  A guttural growl me from the cat with nearly glowing evil eyes.  Mist tried to hush her and slip to the side, but as Mist scooted to the right, so did ChaiTea.  Mist tried the left side, but no luck.  Mist hated this cat.  He backed down a couple of stairs and slipped off his jacket.  No stupid housecat was going  to foil his plan at the top of the stairs.  Mist lifted his jacket and in one swift move threw it right on top of the hissing, clawing, ball of fury and leapt over the cat headed for the door.  Mist sprinted down the road headed for the river.  It wasn’t far to the first cave.  And he knew he would find trouble there; Hugh, Stu and his thugs.

            There was a well-worn trail leading to the cave.  Mist was familiar with it as he had tried to check out the cave on the warm spring afternoons.  But every time he got close, he could hear the voices of the loggers sitting around, keeping an eye on the opening.  Mist would flip around, slip into the ferns and disappear in fear.  Not this time.  He could almost feel his father urging his on, and with his animals in his pocket, he had a surprise that the loggers would never forget.

            There was a sliver of moonlight as Mist neared the cave.  He could hear the crackle of a fire and the muffled voices of the loggers as they sat around keeping an eye on the “treasure”.  Mist stepped off the trail and quietly snuck around below the entrance of the cave.  He could see the shadows of the massive loggers dancing on the trees and across the entrance to the cave.  Mist lay quietly, trying to come up with a plan.

            “I don’t figure there’s even any treasure up here.  That Hugh’s just a crazy old man.  Figure he’s been hit on the head a few too many times,” said a hulking figure leanind on his knees near the fire.  Mist leaned up to see who it was, in the firelight he could see the man’s shiny bald head and a deep scar across his left cheek.  Gunner.  Stu had talked about this guy at school.  He could apparently straighten a horseshoe with his bare hands.  Stu had seen him do it.

            There were two other men with him, but Mist couldn’t make out their faces.  Just inside the cave, hung an oil lantern that flickered a pale light down into the darkness of the cave.  Mist crawled through the bushes toward the cave.  Every time the men would talk Mist would move.  He crawled up as far as he could get, but there was still 20 feet from the edge of the bushes to the cave.  Mist laid on his back waiting for inspiration.  That is when inspiration poked him in the back!  There was a pointy rock sticking into Mist’s back.  He quietly loosened the rock, sat up on his knees and threw the rock into the bushes on the far side of the campfire.  The rock crashing through made all three of the men about fall off of their stumps.  As the men stood up, checking out the noise, Mist darted into the cave, running as quickly and quietly as he could until he could hide in the shadows.  Mist had intended on grabbing the lantern as he went by, but he heard the men yelling behind him, “Go grab the light.”

            Mist could hear the heavy boots of Gunner as he stomped up to the lantern.  It was at that moment that Mist made a change of plans.  Gunner lifted the lantern, and Mist watched as the light reflected off of its brass hanger.  It was a lantern hanger at all.  It was the leg to the theodolite!  The men thought they were guarding a treasure hidden in the cave and instead they were using the treasure to hold their light!

            As Gunner turned carrying the light back to the bushes, Mist slipped up and began to wiggle the leg free from the rock that it was wedged into.  The leg wobbled more and more and all of a sudden it popped loose, slipping from Mist’s hand and clanging on the rocky floor of the cave.  Quick as a flash all three men spun on their heels and can charging toward the cave.

“Who’s in there,” yelled a gruff voice.

            Mist grabbed the leg and thought about sprinting out of the cave, but it was too late.  The passage was blocked by three giant men, one of which who had just pulled out a pistol.  Mist crept back into the shadows, clutching the metal leg and starting to shake with fear.  There was no way out.  Mist reached into his pocket and pulled out the little black bag.  He reached inside as he could hear the men inching toward him.  Mist dug through the animals, trying to devise an escape, when he saw the bat.  He laid the bat in his palm and took out the Tiger’s Eye. 

“This had better work,” thought Mist.

            There was a little burst of light and all of a sudden the tiny bat grew.  It grew and grew and grew!  Soon the bat’s body was bigger than Mist’s and its wings nearly spread across the entire cave.  Mist’s mind spun.  It was as though Mist could hear everything!  There was water dripping in the cave, there were men rustling a few feet away, there was a moth fluttering around the lantern.  Mist grabbed the brass leg and jumped onto the back of the bat.  With a high pitched squeal, the bat fluttered to life, the boy clinging to the back.  Mist commanded the bat to fly and fly it did.  With a screech it turned the corner near the opening. 

            With a sudden burst of confidence Mist yelled, “Outta my way!”  The men yelled and started retreating on their heels.  Mist and the bat burst right over their heads with a squeal the bat reached out with its hind feet and grabbed one of the logger’s hats.  The bat flapped up through the trees, Mist could hear clicks coming from the bat and it was almost as though Mist could see the trees as the sounds echoes off of them.  Mist pulled the bat back toward the fire and there stood Gunner with his gun pointing in all different directions trying to anticipate where the beast would reemerge.  The bat blasted past Gunners back and in the instant that the bat’s wing brushed Gunner’s neck, Mist smelled a horrible smell and saw a great sight.  On the back of Gunner’s pants was a growing soggy brown spot.  Gunner was so scared he had pooped his pants!

            Mist laughed and yelled, “Nice pants Gunner!”

            A shot rang out.  Mist held his breath as he could feel the bullet rip through the bat’s right wing.  Mist pointed the bat toward home.  In the cool of the night air, Mist could “hear” all the sights of Astoria.  The bat swooped over the town circling with its leathery wings clawing at the air.  It was in that moment that Mist wished his father could see him.  Not only was he riding a giant bat that he controlled, but also he was holding in his hand the first leg of a theodolite that would point him to an amazing treasure.  Finally, there was a treasure hunter in the Terry family.