The sun rose into a brilliantly golden sky. When the sun’s warmth reached over the bushes, it set the tents aglow. Before long the bright light and warmth of the morning sun penetrated the two small tents and prompted Rob Switzer and Solly Cohen to rise from their respective tents and start the day. They had gathered firewood the evening before, so they structured the kindling appropriately and started a happily crackling fire. Before the girls emerged from their respective tents, the boys were gazing out onto the water, memorizing as well as they could the location of the chest and the body.
Breakfast was prepared by Solly. A pan of bacon and eggs sizzled fragrantly beside a metal coffee pot that bubbled happily. A discussion went on about what the macabre scene of yesterday meant. They agreed that the most likely scenario was that some criminals had stolen something valuable and discovered an undercover detective had infiltrated them. Or one of their own people was doubted. Obviously, the plane would return at some time to collect the chest after the loot was no longer making news.
“What do you think we should do?”, Rob said to the group assembled around the fire.
“I think we should get away from here,” Caroline Rich said. “If they somehow find out we saw them, we’re screwed.”
“She has a point,” Phyllis Snitzer said. “Maybe we better pack up and take off.”
“I want to go after it,” Rob said.
“Do you have a plan of some kind for this crazy stunt?” Solly said.
“I figure the girls stay here, you and I paddle out. One of us stays in the canoe as a base, and the other dives. I doubt it’s terribly deep there.” Rob said.
Solly thought for a moment, while the two women protested being left behind. He put in a suggestion that they should dive together, and the women should be nearby in the canoes. Fully pack the boats for a quick getaway, and it wouldn’t hurt to have the benefit of ballast for the tricky move of getting out of a canoe without tipping it. Then Phyllis put in that she had diving experience as a camp counsellor and she should be one of the divers too. In the end, it was agreed that brother and sister, Phyllis and Rob dive for the chest while Solly and Caroline manage the canoes.
The siblings stripped down to swimwear and helped launch the loaded canoes. Solly took the stern of his boat so Phyllis could slip into the water at the bow. Caroline was in the stern of the other boat with Rob at the bow. With only a few dozen strokes of their paddles they were hovering over the area where they’d seen the body and the chest dumped. The two canoes circled slowly in ever widening arcs. The four treasure hunters were staring down into the crystal clear water. Phyllis was the first to spot the body with the rope leading to the chest. Rob took out the World War Two army surplus sharpened bayonet that he used as a camping knife. They had all agreed to leave the body there, and take just the chest. They couldn’t do anything with the body anyway. It was better that it stay where it is, deep in cold, dark water.
Using carefully learned techniques for leaving and entering a canoe, the Snitzers slid carefully into the uncomfortably cold water. Phyllis swam to the chest while Rob went to the cadaver and cut the rope from him. He took the free end of the rope up to the surface and handed it to Solly. Solly lifted the trunk up, hand over hand. Phyllis followed the ‘treasure chest’ up from the depths. At the surface, she held the gunnel and helped Solly lift the trunk up and over so he could gently put it on the floor of the canoe. Solly was a powerful specimen of young manhood, and could just manage to set it down without it doing any damage.
“Let’s get out of here now!” Rob said as he carefully climbed into the canoe. Caroline was an experienced canoeist, and held her stern position while Rob became the bow paddle. “It’s damn cold, too! We have to get a few kilometres up a tributary and make camp under some trees with heavy foliage.”
They didn’t go back the way they came because that would have meant paddling upstream, which would be slower and more work. They stroked briskly across the small lake and entered the mouth of a small tributary that fed out of the lake. Their GPS showed that, although narrow, this waterway led to another via which they could return to their vehicles.
As the sun rolled toward the western horizon, the canoeists found a spit of sand tightly surrounded by enormous Maple trees that provided dense cover from overhead. They all were pretending that they weren’t bursting with curiosity about the contents of the chest and busied themselves setting up camp. At last, tents up, fire crackling, food frying, they gathered around and cut the rope from around the chest and opened it. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Krugerrands! In neat, tight, horizontal rows. Eight rows to a layer, eight layers deep.
“There must be hundreds of them,” Caroline said.
“Thousands,” Rob said.
“Millions of dollars,” Solly said.
“What are Krugerrands?” Phyllis said.
“Each Krugerrand is one full ounce of pure gold,” said Rob. The four adventurers just stood in a circle, looking at the loot and at each other, each wondering, “what next?”