The hidden treasure

Ashrafi Antia narrates the adventures of a brave boy

Huddled around the crackling fire in the village square, Vir and his friends sat enthralled, as the village elders recounted tales of times gone by. They listened all agog whilst old Gyani narrated the story of the ancient King’s lost treasure. “Long ago, in a bid to save his valuable riches from falling into the hands of the British, the Maharaja had ordered his Vazir to hide his treasure in the forests surrounding this village. Unfortunately, the Vazir and his party of loyal soldiers were ambushed by a British patrol that had been tipped off by a traitor and to this day the whereabouts of the treasure remains unknown. The secret of where it lay hidden died with them. The patrol team came back empty-handed. Over the years, many people have searched for the legendary treasure in vain. The mystery of the hidden treasure trove remains unsolved and the story has been passed down the generations,” recalled an old man.

The youngsters were enthralled by the captivating tale and their eyes gleamed at the thought of hidden treasure. Vir was no exception. His imagination and interest were fired up, fuelled by the ancient folklore. That night, he dreamt of finding a casket filled with coins and jewels hidden in the forest. He couldn’t wait till the break of dawn.
At the first sight of light, he snuck out of the hut, barefoot, carrying his slippers in his hand, lest he wake his parents. He knew they would not allow him to venture into the jungle alone as it was fraught with danger.

The mists of dawn swirled through the trees, wafting gently on the cold morning breeze. On and on he walked, deeper into the forest. Soon, the morning sun filtered through the canopy of trees above him making strange patterns and shapes on the ground. He heard the roar of a tiger and trembled but it seemed to come from afar.
Vir found himself at the edge of a marsh. He had heard the quicksand could suck a man into it, making him disappear within a matter of minutes. Suddenly, the tiger’s roar sounded louder and closer. A crashing noise came from the trees behind him and he heard something rushing towards him, trampling the twigs and undergrowth in its path.

Vir panicked and instinctively took a step backwards as a young elephant hurtled towards him, trumpeting in terror. Vir lost his balance as he tried to get out of the elephant’s way and fell into the bog. He tried to grasp at something but found himself being sucked in. The more he struggled to get out, the faster he sank.

The elephant stood at the edge of the bog, instinctively knowing not to step in and observed him silently. Vir prayed to Ganesha to save him. He swore that he would be satisfied with whatever little they had in their lives and not go in search of treasure. How he wished he had obeyed his elders!

As Vir prayed, he felt the mud rise to his neck, up to his chin; then it covered his mouth. He raised his arms over his head and folded his hands in prayer before taking a deep breath and closed his eyes. In a few seconds, the mud was above his head and he plunged into the deep, dark depths of the swamp. His foot struck something hard. He moved it around and felt the outline of a metal chest. He knew he had found the treasure, but it was too late; he too would perish with the knowledge.

Suddenly, he felt something rough coil around him like a rope and hoist him upwards. There was a whoosh, as he was hauled up through the clinging, cloying mud into the air. He heaved a sigh of relief as he was able to breathe again. Opening his eyes, he saw the elephant with its front legs in the swamp but the rear ones planted firmly on land and its trunk coiled around his armpit. Vir couldn’t believe his eyes. Surely, this must be Ganesha rescuing him, he thought. He held on tight to the elephant’s trunk and slowly, the
elephant edged backwards from the marsh, dragging him out of the quicksand onto dry land. Once he was safely on terra firma, the elephant trumpeted loudly and turned its back on him, returning to the forest from whence it came.

Meanwhile, a search party of villagers was out looking for Vir. He heard their drums and answered their calls. They found him spluttering on the edge of the bog, covered from head to toe in black sticky mud.

“How did you get out of this death-trap?” they asked and listened in awe as
he told them of his miraculous saviour. He then told them how he thought the treasure lay at the bottom of the marsh. It was decided to dredge and drain the swamp in search of the treasure as it posed a danger to people’s lives anyway.

When all the clayey mud was sucked out of the marsh, a chest was unearthed. It contained gold and silver coins. There was also a golden statue of Ganesha. This was given pride of place in the village temple and the treasure was used for the betterment and upliftment of the village.

The villagers assumed that the
Maharaja’s men must have heard the sound of the approaching patrol and thrown the chest into the bog, rather than let it fall into the hands of the British. There it lay concealed in its depths for more than a century, until young Vir accidentally discovered it and solved the mystery of the Maharaja’s hidden treasure.