[1] bay East River, the Brooklyn Navy Yard is situated

Wolfert found him at his cabin, not much larger than tolerable dog house rudely constructed of fragments of wrecks and driftwood, and built rocky shore foot old fort, just about what at present forms the point Battery [1] "very ancient and fishlike smell"[2] pervaded the place Oars, paddles, and fishing rods were leaning against the wall fort, net was spread sand to dry, skiff was drawn up beach, and door cabin was Mud Sam himself, indulging true negro luxury of sleeping sunshine

[1] The southern extremity of New York City

[2] See Shakespeare's The Tempest, act ii , sc 2

Many years had passed away time of Sam's youthful adventure, snows of many winter had grizzled the knotty wool upon his head He perfectly recollected the circumstances, however, for he had often been called upon to relate them, though version story he differed in many points from Peechy Prauw, as infrequently the case with authentic historians subsequent researches of money diggers, Sam knew nothing ; they were matters quite out line; neither did the cautious Wolfert care to disturb his thoughts point His only wish was to secure the old fisherman as pilot spot, and readily effected The that had intervened since his nocturnal adventure had effaced all Sam's awe place, promise of trifling reward roused him at once sleep sunshine

The tide was adverse to making the expedition by water, and Wolfert was too impatient land of promise to wait for its turning; they set off, therefore, by land walk of four or five miles brought them edge of wood, which covered the greater part eastern side island just beyond the pleasant region of Bloomen-dael [1] Here they struck into long lane, straggling among trees and bushes overgrown with weeds and mullein stalks, but seldom used, and so completely overshadowed enjoy but kind of twilight Wild vines entangled the trees and flaunted in their faces; brambles and briers caught their clothes passed; the garter snake glided across their path; the spotted toad hopped and waddled before them; restless catbird mewed at them from every thicket Had Wolfert Webber been deeply read in romantic legend fancied himself entering upon forbidden, enchanted ground, or were guardians set watch upon buried treasure As , the loneliness place, wild stories connected with it, had their effect upon his mind

[1] this story was written Bloomen-dael (Flowery Valley) was village four miles from New York now that part of New York known as Bloomingdale, west side, between about Seventieth and One Hundredth Streets

On reaching the lower end lane they found themselves near the shore Sound, in kind of amphitheater surrounded by forest trees The area had once been grass plot, but was now shagged with briers and rank weeds At one end, and just river bank, was ruined building, little better than heap of rubbish, with stack of chimneys rising like solitary tower center The current Sound rushed along just below it, with wildly grown trees drooping their branches into its waves

Wolfert doubt haunted house of Father Red-cap, and called to mind the story of Peechy Prauw The evening was approaching, light, falling dubiously woody places, gave melancholy tone scene well calculated to foster any lurking feeling of awe or superstition The night hawk, wheeling about highest regions air, emitted his peevish, boding cry The woodpecker gave lonely tap on some hollow tree, firebird[1] streamed deep red plumage

[1] Orchard oriole

They now came to an inclosure that had once been garden It extended along the foot of rocky ridge, but was little better than wilderness of weeds, with here and there matted rosebush, or peach or plum tree, grown wild and ragged, and covered with moss lower end garden they passed kind of vault side of bank, facing the water It had the look of root house [1] The door, though decayed, was still strong, and appeared recently patched up Wolfert pushed it open It gave harsh grating upon its hinges, and striking against something like box, rattling sound ensued, and skull rolled floor Wolfert drew back shuddering, but was reassured on being informed negro was family vault, belonging to old Dutch families that owned this estate, an assertion corroborated sight of coffins of various sizes piled within Sam familiar with all these scenes when boy, and now knew that be far place they were in quest

[1] "Root house," i e , house for storing up potatoes, turnips, or other roots winter feed of cattle

They now made their way water's edge, scrambling along ledges of rocks that overhung the waves, and obliged often to hold by shrubs and grapevines to avoid slipping deep and hurried stream they came to small cove, or rather indent shore protected by steep rocks, and overshadowed by thick copse of oaks and chestnuts, so be sheltered and almost concealed The beach shelved gradually cove, but, the current swept deep and black and rapid along its jutting points The negro paused, raised his remnant of hat, and scratched his grizzled poll for moment, as he regarded this nook; then suddenly clapping his hands, he stepped exultingly forward, and pointed to large iron ring, stapled firmly rock, just where broad shelf of stone furnished commodious landing place It very spot where the red-caps had landed Years had changed the more perishable features scene; but rock and iron yield slowly influence On looking more closely Wolfert remarked three crosses cut rock just above the ring, which had some mysterious signification Old Sam now readily recognized the overhanging rock under which his skiff sheltered during the thunder gust up the course which the midnight gang had taken, however, was harder task His mind taken up eventful occasion persons drama as but little attention scenes, and these places looked so different by night and day After wandering about for , however, they came to an opening trees which Sam thought resembled the place ledge of rock of moderate height, like wall, on one side, which he thought the very ridge whence he had overlooked the diggers Wolfert examined it narrowly, and discovered three crosses similar above ring, cut deeply face rock, but nearly obliterated by moss that had grown over them His heart leaped with joy, for he doubted not they were the private marks buccaneers All now that remained was to ascertain the precise spot where the treasure lay buried, for otherwise he might dig at random neighborhood crosses, without coming spoils, and he had already had enough profitless labor Here, however, the old negro was perfectly at loss, and indeed perplexed him by variety of opinions, recollections were all confused Sometimes he declared it must foot of mulberry tree hard by; then beside great white stone; then under small green knoll, short distance ledge of rocks, until Wolfert became as bewildered as himself

The shadows of evening were now spreading themselves over the woods, and rock and tree began to mingle together evidently too late to attempt anything further at present, and, indeed, Wolfert had come unprovided with implements to prosecute his researches Satisfied, therefore, with having ascertained the place, note of all its landmarks, that he might recognize it again, and set out return homeward, resolved to prosecute this golden enterprise without delay

The leading anxiety which had hitherto absorbed every feeling being now in some measure appeased, fancy began to wander, and to conjure up thousand shapes and chimeras as he returned haunted region Pirates hanging in chains seemed to swing from every tree, and he almost expected some Spanish don, throat cut from ear to ear, rising slowly ground, and shaking the ghost of money bag