TREASURE TROVE

Taranaki Daily News, 22 September 1931, Page 14

TREASURE TROVE

A PIRATES’ HOARD. OAK ISLAND SHAFT.Vancouver, July 24. The little town of Chester, on the south shore of Nova Scotia, is all athrill at the thought that it will be visited this summer by thousands of tourists. Just four miles from It lies Oak Island, a mile long, half a mile wide, traditional burial place of stores of pirate wealth, which a party of modern adventurers hopes to uncover in these coming months. Three hundred years ago, or thereabout, Spanish pirates buried _ their treasure beside a huge oak on the island. Among the motley crew w&8 am Englishman. Ou the voyage home, the pirate vessel ran into two British cruisers. The Englishman was the only one not to meet the gallows. He went to Bristol, where, as years advanced, people thought him queer, for he told stories of an island of great oaks and gold in iron chests. Nor would they look at the sketch he made of tho location of the treasure. The chart passed to an enthusiastic youth, who in turn parted with it to a Halifax pilot. Overlaid and forgotten for generations, it was brought to Boston. There a man of'means accompanied the holder of the chart to Halifax, only to learn that an Englishman, named Blair, had already preempted treasure-trove rights to the island. He refused to sell his rights. In 1795, three men—Smith, McGinnis, and Vaughan—visited the island, seeking mink and marten. Mooring their boat, they had not gone far before they discovered, in the centre' of a clearing a mighty oak, across whose lowest design. They secured tools and commenced to dig beneath, where the earth liirfb hung a ship’s block of very ancient was depressed in a fifteen-foot circle. The diggers came upon a shaft, with hard, tool-scarred sides. Ten feet down, they met oak timbers. They removed them, went down a further twenty feet, and encountered more oak planking,- another interval, the same result. They tired of the job, could not obtain help, and gave up. Years passed. A young doctor at Truro, N.S., heard the story, looked up the three men, formed a company, and took a gang of workmen to the island. They reached another flooring, covered with putty, so much that, it served to glaze the windows of more than twenty new houses at Mahone Bay. Ten feet, more oak planks, covered with charcoal. Next, a coconut fibre, covering the oak floor. At ninety feet the workers found a smooth stone that bore queer markings. No one could decipher them, and the stone became a jamb in a builder s fireplace. W’hen the workers returned after a week-end rest, they found the shaft filled with water. They sank a second shaft, to drain the “money pit.” Water burst through; they barely escaped with their lives, Again, the job was abandoned.

In 1849 a new company was formed. Successive companies lutve been formed since then. Many shafts have been dug. Tunnels have been made near the sea. A coffer dam was built. But always, when work progressed, water rushed in and set everything at naught. Once again, a company has been formed and work has begun. A new plan has been devised to defeat the water chamois. Modern machinery has been installed. The good people of Chester are preparing for a horde of tourists from the States. The promoters believe they will at least penetrate the secret of tho Spaniards.