Part 18 (1/2)
Just then Harry came up to them and saw that, indeed, they had hit upon something more curious--if less attractive--than anything they had before been that day.
”Why, this isn't a farthing,” said Fred, who had been examining the coin; ”I know what it is, it's a Roman coin. My Papa has got one, something like it.”
Just then they heard Mr Inglis calling close at hand, and Philip bounded off to fetch him and tell of their discovery. This hastened the Squire's steps, and very soon he was carefully inspecting what the boys had laid bare. He immediately confirmed Fred's opinion that the coin was Roman, and also said that it was of silver, and appeared to bear the name of Constantine. Fred's piece of old iron was unmistakably the blade of a sword, but almost completely eaten away, and the bones and two skulls were directly p.r.o.nounced to be human; but they crumbled away to dust almost immediately.
”Bravo, boys,” said Mr Inglis at last; ”you have indeed made a discovery. I have long been under the impression that this old trench must contain some curious antiquities, but never thought to see them laid bare in so singular a manner. We must have spades and pickaxes up here to-morrow, if we can get permission: but let's turn over the gravel with our sticks; we may, perhaps, find something more to-day.”
”But won't the skulls and bones be nasty, and poisonous, uncle?” said Fred.
Mr Inglis smiled, and then said, ”No, my boy. You have read how that G.o.d made Adam of the dust of the earth, and how that it is said, 'To dust thou shalt return,' and here you see how that it is so. Touch that bone ever so lightly, and you sea it has crumbled away to 'dust of the earth!' G.o.d has so arranged, by His great wisdom, that the earth shall deprive everything of its ill odour and poisonous nature when buried therein, so that even in some great pit upon a battle-field where, perhaps, scores--of the slain had been covered-in, in the course of time nothing would be found there but rich soil, for our bodies are chemically composed of nothing but salts and water. I do not mean what we commonly call salt, which is chloride of sodium, but of earthy salts.”
”Well, but how can that be, Papa?” said Harry. ”Has it ever been proved?”
”Oh! yes, my boy; and in no way more simply than by the very people who dug this trench. What did they often do with their dead, Harry?”
”Why, buried them, didn't they?” said Harry. ”Oh! no, I know; they used to make a great wicker idol, and put them in and burn them.”
”Why, those were the Ancient Britons, who used to do that with their prisoners,” said Fred.
”Oh, ah; so it was,” said Harry; ”I forgot.”
”Why, they used to burn them; didn't they, Papa?” said Philip.
”To be sure they did,” said his father. ”And what were their urns for?”
”Oh! I don't know,” said Harry, ”if it wasn't to make tea with.”
”For shame, Hal,” said Mr Inglis, good-humouredly. ”Why, the ashes of the dead were collected and preserved in these cinereal urns; and what are ashes but earthy salts? Of course, in the process of burning, the water would be entirely driven off. But, look, Fred has turned up another coin.”
For want of more effective tools than walking-sticks, the search for relics was not very successful. Fred found another coin, and Mr Inglis turned out two more; but nothing else was discovered, though it was evident that a protracted search would lead to the discovery of perhaps many curious antiquities; for Mr Inglis said that this had been a very important station in the time of the Roman occupation of Britain; and he regretted that the owner of that property was not a person who took an interest in such matters.
Mr Inglis tried very hard to raise one of the skulls; but although the one that had been in the most perfect state at first seemed hard enough to roll down the slope, yet, upon being touched, it seemed to be nothing else but earth.
At last the signal for starting was given, and, laden with treasures, the little party slowly moved homeward. The walk was lovely, for the sun was sinking behind them, so that the whole landscape and the far-off sea were flooded with the golden light. The heat of the day, too, was pa.s.sed, and for the most part they walked home in the pleasant shade of the trees, while, one by one, as the golden sunset paled, the moths and bats came out; the night-jar took his hawking flight round the trees; the beetles boomed and whirred; and just as they left the wood, as if to say farewell, an owl cried out, ”Tu--whoo--oo!” and then was perfectly silent again. The evening now seemed so cool and fresh that the boys forgot their fatigue, and kept on chatting and planning for future excursions till they reached the gates of the Grange, just as the sun ceased to gild the weatherc.o.c.k at the top of the church spire.
”Now, boys, be quick,” said Mr Inglis, ”for I'm sure we all want tea after such a walk as we have had; so hurry, hurry, and come down again quickly; and after tea we will see whether we can find out to what period the coins belong.”
If ever Mr Inglis was quickly obeyed it was upon this occasion, and, as to making a meal, I think no boys ever could--but, there--it is not fair to talk about it, for anybody would have felt hungry after such a ramble through the woods and over the hills. But at last the meal was ended, and Mr Inglis brought out his coins, and one or two books of reference.
His first movement was to try and clean off the rust of about fifteen centuries--which time must have elapsed since they were last employed as ”current money of the merchant:” but the efforts were not very successful, neither were the attempts at deciphering the inscriptions, which were very faint and illegible; so he gave up the task for that evening; for, if the truth must be told, Mr Inglis was, like the boys, very tired, and not much disposed for study. As to Harry, he expressed an opinion to his cousin in a very low tone, that the Romans were all bother, and so was their language. But, by way of excuse, it must be said that Harry was very tired; and when people are very tired, they often say very cross and very stupid things; and this must have been the case at this particular moment, or Harry would never have made such a remark to his cousin Fred.
Mr Inglis afterwards had a long correspondence with the owner of the property, relative to the advisability of making excavations in the old intrenchment; but nothing satisfactory came of it, for there did not seem to be any disposition to grant Mr Inglis's request; and, therefore, the place remained unexamined.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
HIGH FLYING.
The next morning the boys had their regular run in the garden before breakfast, and then Harry divulged the plan of their morning's amus.e.m.e.nt--for the next day was to be devoted to fis.h.i.+ng at Lord Copsedale's lake, when they hoped to persuade Mr Inglis to accompany them; the present day, which was first chosen, not being considered suitable, as Mr Inglis was going from home. Directly after breakfast, they set about the first part of Harry's plan, which was to get all the baits and tackle ready for the next day--a most business-like proceeding, but quite in opposition to Harry and Philip's general habit, for they in most cases left their preparations to the last moment. But not so now, for, as I said before, they wanted Papa to accompany them, and they well knew that he would not go unless there were plenty of good baits, and the tackle all in order. The first thing to be done seemed to be to get some good worms from down by the cuc.u.mber-frames, and then put them in some cool damp moss; but Philip opposed this, and showed some little degree of foresight, for, said he--
”We have never had the wasps' nest out of the tree yet; and we shall want the grubs, for Papa likes them for the trout and chub, and we shall want old Sam to split the tree up with his big wedges; while, if we go poking about round the cuc.u.mber-frames first, he'll turn grumpy, and won't split the old willow-tree for us.”