Anatoly Rybakov - THE BRONZE BIRD

"In that case, I don't mind," Slava said.

"Don't interrupt," Genka said curtly. "Go on, Misha."

"Now that we've agreed on that," Misha said, "we'll go due north for one verst, then turn to the north-west at an angle of one hundred and thirty-five degrees."

"Turn..." Genka prompted.

"Yes, turn," Misha said, "and go another verst."

"That's where we turn again," Genka put in.

"Yes, again one hundred and thirty-five degrees and cover the third verst. After that..."

"We make the last turn," Genka said loudly and impatiently.

"Yes, we turn ninety degrees at the last turning and proceed due north for yet another verst and..."

"... stop at the four trees," Genka exclaimed, springing up from the ground, "dig our spades into the ground and find the buried treasure. It might even be that famous Pansy diamond."

"Not Pansy but Sansy," Slava corrected him.

The boys felt very pleased with themselves.

"Just think," Genka laughed, "those fools out in the woods are searching and digging with the sweat pouring down their faces. They've probably lost weight with their digging, the poor devils, and they don't know where to dig. But we know."

Misha did not jump or cut capers like Genka. He lay on the ground, smiling with self-satisfaction.

"Yes," he said, "we've got the key in our hands. Of course, we don't know what we'll find. I doubt if it's that Sansy-Pansy diamond, but if people took such pains to hide it and others are looking for it so doggedly, it must be valuable."

Genka went on laughing.

"What a fox the 'countess' is! She's been sitting on this drawing, hiding it and waiting for Soviet power to be overthrown and for her counts to return. But the drawing is now in our hands."

At the mention of the "countess," doubts began to creep into Misha's mind. If it was so simple to find the treasure by following the instructions in the drawing, then why had the "countess" not found it? The men they had seen in the woods were digging there with her knowledge, for she was the one who had sent them those sacks.

Slava's thoughts were running along the same lines.

"It's strange that they haven't found the treasure," he said. "This drawing has been in the bird for at least six years after the Revolution and the 'countess' knows that it's there. That means those men and the boatman also know of its existence. And yet they're digging in the woods."

"She's leading them a dance!" Genka shouted. "Can't you see that? The boatman is watching her. That shows he doesn't trust her. Why? Because she keeps showing him the wrong places and doesn't tell him where she's keeping this drawing."

"Why doesn't she dig the treasure up herself?"

"Think an old woman can do that? Think she can dig it out? But even if she could, she probably doesn't want to. What does she need the treasure for? What could she do with it? Her job is to see that nobody touches it until the count returns."

Slava agreed that there was sense in what Genka said. Misha was of the same opinion. Some doubts lingered on, but he terribly wanted to believe that the buried treasure was now within reach and that their efforts had been crowned with success. He was eager to find out if his deduction was correct.

"Let's not lose any time," he said, getting up, "and follow this route right now."

Genka and Slava willingly assented. They too were burning to see where the treasure was hidden.

"As my stride is exactly one arshin" Misha said, "I'll do the measuring. Only don't get me muddled."

"What about spades?" Genka cried. "We need spades to dig the treasure up."

But Misha was against that. Everything would be lost if the boatman saw them carrying spades. They would dig at night and in preparation for that they would memorize the place and the road to it.

"I disagree with that," Genka grumbled.

He wanted to start digging at once.

They remembered their promise to relieve the Bleater only when they saw him standing at the door of the servants' hall.

"It's an outrage," the Bleater shouted angrily. "I've been waiting for an hour and a half! It's low-down. Anybody else would have gone away long ago. You're taking advantage of my sense of duty. Decent people don't do that. Downright mockery, that's what it is!"

Misha calmed him and let him return to the camp with orders to send Igor. Still giving vent to his indignation, the Bleater marched off.

The moans of the hungry Kit came from the servants' hall. But the boys paid not the slightest attention to them.

Misha, compass in hand and facing northward, stood in front of the house. The compass needle was perpendicular to the house.

"Now listen," Misha said. "I don't want to hear a word from you until we reach the turning. And now let's go."

The boys set off with Misha in front. He counted the steps, trying to make his stride exactly one arshin long. It was his normal stride when he walked without exertion and he knew that if he made it even a little longer the exertion would show.

He held the compass in front of him. Actually, he did not need it because the drive itself led due north.

Soon the drive gave way to a path across a field which, as the compass showed, likewise led due north.

Misha did not have to worry about losing count of his steps. Genka and Slava were striding after him, mumbling as they counted the steps with deep concentration. This monotonous mumbling disturbed Misha, but he said nothing as he was afraid that that would put him off. In the end, when Misha announced that he had counted a thousand five hundred steps, it turned out that Genka's figure was twelve higher, while Slava's was eight lower.

But the road veered to the north-east of itself. The boys measured the angle-it was a hundred and thirty-five degrees. The old count had certainly had a poor imagination. That was the result of the aristocracy's degeneration...

The boys went on with their task. The monotonous mumbling behind Misha's back was resumed. The road took them exactly to the north-east. It seemed as though it had been specially laid out to the place where the treasure was buried. This was the very route that Misha and Longshanks had taken when they went to the Goligin Brushwood Road.

At the end of the second verst they found that the road again turned one hundred and thirty-five degrees to the west.

"It's going swimmingly," Genka said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "The count gave the bearings exactly."

"The route's too primitive," Slava noted. "It follows the road all the time."

"That's how it should be. You don't imagine the count wanted to hurt his precious feet by tripping over into holes and ruts."

At the end of the third verst, the road turned sharply to the north at a right angle.

The last lap brought them to the fringe of a woods, which stood in front of them like a wall. It was the woods they had gone through to get to the Goligin Brushwood Road.

"Clearly," Genka said, pointing at the trees, "the treasure's buried beneath those four trees."

Misha and Slava were also looking at the trees. Yes, the treasure was evidently there. At any rate, it was in the clearing where they now found themselves. It was uneven and full of mounds. For a moment, the 'suspicion crossed Misha's mind that somebody had already dug the ground up, but there was no sign of freshly upturned soil-all the mounds were overgrown with grass. Perhaps tree-stumps had once been rooted out here. However that may be, this was the spot indicated in the drawing. That meant the treasure was beneath one of the mounds. He would put the whole troop on the job. The count proved to be not as simple as he had at first thought! Everybody was hunting for the treasure in the woods, but it was buried here, on the fringe of the woods, in the most prominent place where nobody so much as thought of looking.