Why do you want to find something precious? There are many ways to go about it when your motivation pushes you to be adventurous and seek the unknown.
An acquaintance of ours came for a visit months ago, What he brought us were tales of his quests in looking for buried treasures, which were supposedly left by fleeing Japanese soldiers during World War II. He showed us several pieces of evidences like silver coins and shards of potteries. Some of my friends were coaxed to join the hunt.
However, I was again the conscience they did not wish to ask for opinion. As usual, I pointed out the obvious and told them not to be influenced by tall tales. The treasure hunter would not be denied of warm bodies he needed to help him in his new digging.
As proof of his confidence of finding what he called the mother lode, he wagered all his belongings for nothing, meaning my friends would get everything he brought if he failed to produce results. That’s how confident he was.
So as not appear a kill joy, even against my will, I joined them. But I would only be an observer. I would not strain myself on something I did not feel doing in the first place.
The site he chose was near the mouth of a river. The man told us of the story of a Japanese straggler, who hid in a cave for many years not knowing the war had been over. He showed us the map which the Japanese gave him in exchange for the money going home.
The area was private property but the owners lived in the city. We had to risk getting hailed to jail if caught with our trespassing. The digging got underway. Big rocks, sticky soil and hard rain connived to make the effort more difficult than expected.
After two days of shifting the digging from one place to the next, my friends were already reacting on why they joined the search. They were too tired to continue. They did not hear the arrival of a vehicle near the house. I expected it was the caretaker or actually the owner of the property.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Wrath was a mild term by the looks of the owner’s face. He looked furious seeing his sculptured backyard dug by human gophers. “Stop that!”
We looked like meek lambs, berated by an armed shepherd. “Do you know what’s under that?” the owner’s words were venomous. “That’s shit!”
For a moment, I did not get the meaning of that. We glanced at one another and searched our faces for confirmation that we thought of the same thing.
“You’ll repair the damage you caused or I’ll get you jailed.” The owner was not kidding. “Now!”
I apologized in behalf of my group in a very diplomatic way. Luckily, the owner cooled down when I promised to help him in any way possible in the future. Free of charge.
The owner laughed. “You’ll never find gold here because…”
We all looked at him and listened to the end of his statement.
“because I already found it. That’s where the shit is deposited now.”