Chapter 11
Sinbad’s Story
Nat’s head was soon clear enough to read all the articles about the Glowworm Cave break in. Her first clue was a story at the bottom of the local report. She almost missed it as she scanned the page, but when her eyes latched onto the article, a jolt shot up her spine.
‘Long-time readers may remember a series of futile ‘treasure hunts’ last century. Servicemen returned from the war overseas with tales of hidden bullion, and many a caving trip had the discovery of great riches as its objective. The old stories always featured the same elements – cave maps, a golden tiger mask with different coloured eyes, and references to the great Arabian chronicles of Al-Idrisi. Perhaps this burglary is connected to those quests.’
Nat could hear her heart thumping. There was that name again; Al-Idrisi. All the elements in the stories matched. They thought they’d found their own mystery, but now she realised they’d stumbled onto a treasure hunt with a long and dramatic past. She had to know more. Jack hooked the computer up in her room and she did some research.
She learned that hundreds of years ago a man named Caliph Haroun al-Rashid was ruler of the greatest empire in the world at that time, the Abbasid Empire in Arabia. He sent ships out on three voyages around the world. When the sailors returned, they had many stories, including tales of a mountainous land to the south filled with giant eagles and serpents with small heads.
The stories were compiled in a book by a famous geographer and historian named Al-Idrisi, who wrote them up in the twelfth century. Explorations had taken place around 800AD, but there was tantalising evidence that the Arab explorers had walked in New Zealand. Nat read with wonder about a rock in the Taupo area that seemed to have a dhow carved into it.
The tiger mask was the next thing Nat looked up. Known as the most beautiful and powerful talisman in the Abbasid Empire, it was made entirely of gold, with fierce black stripes across the face. It was gifted to Sinbad by the Caliph, and brought great luck to whoever owned it. The gleaming eyes of the mask were famous gems; one a huge emerald named the Emerald Eye of Babylon, and the other a massive ruby known as the Scarlet Eye of Ceylon. When Sinbad returned from his travels without the tiger talisman, it was said that he had left the gems and the mask in different locations at the end of the earth to guarantee his safe return to Arabia. From there, a legend was born; that whoever found the gems and placed them in the lost mask would uncover the very secrets of the ancients. But a curse had been cast on the Emerald Eye of Babylon. Whoever first found the gem would not live another day.
Nat blinked. What an incredible story. She lined up the journey on a map – although the idea that sailors had steered their ships to New Zealand hundreds of years before Abel Tasman or Captain Cook was a stretch, the journey looked possible.
Reading further, Nat came to more extraordinary tales. In the ancient world the library of Alexandria in Egypt was famed for its great collection of knowledge. When the Muslim armies invaded it was burnt to the ground. However, Muslim scribes copied many of the most important documents in the library, preserving much of the knowledge gathered by Greek and Roman scholars. Age-old charts and scrolls were saved, detailing now-forgotten voyages around the world. Now-forgotten. That was the key, thought Nat. These journeys had taken place so long ago that they’d slipped into the murk of time.
A tree tapped on the window, breaking Nat from her thoughts. Its leaves were barely hanging onto their branches. Stretching her arms wide, Nat smiled. She felt lucky. Safely tucked in bed, reading about the voyagers of centuries ago, she was inspired to get to the bottom of her own mystery. If scholars had rushed into the library of Alexandria to copy the golden knowledge within, it was the least Nat could do to figure out the part that had landed in her lap. She turned all the different elements over in her head.
Supposing the Arabs had made their way over the seas and landed in the North Island of New Zealand, they could have trekked inland from Kawhia, an accessible harbour, and carved a picture of one of their boats in rock at Taupo. People left graffiti wherever they went; Nat knew this was an ancient habit. The Valley of Serpents, in Sinbad’s second voyage, could be the Waikato basin, she thought – a valley surrounded by mountains. Maybe Sinbad did float through the cave and think the glowworms were twinkling diamonds. It was a fantastic idea. But it didn’t lead to a treasure chest and a cave map they still hadn’t matched to a cave. Nat grinned at the riddle. There was much to uncover. On the floor beside her bed lay untouched assignments for English and social studies. There was no way she was giving up her search to do homework.
The next morning Kathleen insisted on checking Nat’s temperature every half hour. By eleven o’clock, Nat was ready to throw the thermometer out the window.
‘How about I give you an important job?’ she said.
Her sister refused the bait. ‘Couldn’t be as important as looking after you.’
‘It might lead to fulfilling our pony pact,’ said Nat slyly.
‘Kathleen’s face lit up. ‘What do I have to do?’
‘Go to the bookshelf downstairs,’ instructed Nat. ‘Find the book of cave maps and bring it here.’
Kathleen ran down the stairs so fast it sounded as if the house was falling down. She tore back up and landed the fat cave atlas on the bed with a thump.
‘Now,’ said Nat, ‘You’re the best in your class at shapes, aren’t you?’
‘We call it geometry,’ said Kathleen.
‘Of course,’ said Nat, without missing a beat. ‘Geometry is all about matching, right?’
‘That’s right,’ said Kathleen.
‘Then I have a challenge for you.’ She looked at her sister. ‘Could you please slide the box out from under the bed?’ Nat stifled a giggle as her sister dived to the floor, so eager was she to be involved. With utmost care, Kathleen opened the box they’d found in the attic.
Nat unfolded the unknown cave map. ‘Here’s the problem: we don’t know where this cave is. This book,’ she said, tapping the cave atlas, ‘has maps of all the caves in the North Island. Could you match this map with one from here? You don’t have to go quickly. I’d prefer you were thorough.’
Kathleen nodded, picked up the atlas and map and left the room in silence. Nat was left twirling her roc feather in peace.
Later in the afternoon, Mike knocked on the door. ‘I won’t come in; I’m covered in sheep poo. But if you’re up to it, we’ll have nachos tomorrow night. Old man Te Kaitiaki is going to bring Riki, and the Lima brothers will be helping me down in the shed, so they’re coming too. Sound okay?’
‘That’s so cool – thanks Dad!’
Mike smiled. ‘You’ve had plenty of rest, so I thought for a treat we could all head out to Raglan the next day. We’ll have fish and chips on the beach eh?’
‘Sounds awesome.’
‘By the way, what’d you do to Kathleen?’
Nat sat up in alarm. ‘What’s happened?’
‘She’s anchored to the sofa, examining maps in the cave atlas. She said they were too small so I gave her that old magnifying glass. She’s having the time of her life.’
Nat grinned. ‘I gave her a job.’
‘Good work. Now back to sleep – you’ll need it.’
Nat wriggled her toes with glee. She fluffed up the pillows and disappeared into her duvet, but there was no way she could go back to sleep. She couldn’t wait to get back on the case.