Billy the Easter bunny was searching in the bushes, he had been at it for quite some time. Everyone assumed he was looking for Easter eggs, little did they know. He was actually searching for Long John Turnip’s treasure.
Franklin Frog had told him the legend of the treasure as they sat by the bridge, talking about this and that. The subject of pirates had come up in the conversation, as they idly followed the progress of a small boat on the river.
‘I knew a pirate once,’ Franklin said.
‘Where?’ Billy asked.
‘Right here on the river.’
‘Never,’
‘It’s true; his name was Long John and he was a turnip.’
‘A turnip! Don’t be silly, turnips just sit around in fields and don’t go anywhere.’
‘This one did. He had a black eye patch, a parrot, a boat and a crew.’
‘Never.’
‘He did, and the Spud brothers were his crew, big ugly brutes they were.’
‘Never.’
‘Will you stop saying never! He and his crew used to go out to sea and dig for treasure.’
‘I don’t believe that, you can’t dig holes in the sea.’
‘Silly, he didn’t dig holes in the sea, he travelled to the pirate islands and dug for treasure there.’
‘Oh, and did he find any?’
‘Yes, loads.’
‘What did he do with it?’
‘He came back here and buried it in a secret location.’
‘Where’s Long John now?’
‘Alas, Long John is long gone, and his crew too.’
‘What happened?’
‘Well, when he left on his last voyage, he said he was sailing north and that was the last I heard of him.’
‘And you never heard from him again?’
‘No, but six months after he disappeared, one of the Spuds made it back, he was in a terrible state, not half the spud he used to be. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him; he used to be known a Beefy, now all that was left of him was a chip.’
‘And did he tell you what happened?’
‘Yes, Billy he did, with his last breath he gasped out the tale. Apparently they sailed to the Islands of the Hebrides, in search of Black Hagrid’s gold, and they found it. But as they left the islands, they were set upon, by the Haggis Eaters and taken to the mainland. Not satisfied with the gold, the Haggis Eaters wanted more, so since it was coming up to Burn’s night, they turned Long John and his crew into neeps and tatties and had them for supper.’
‘Ugh, that’s horrible. So the secret of Long John’s treasure died with him.’
‘No, before he left, he gave me an envelope to keep until he returned, when I knew he wasn’t coming back, I opened it and inside was a map showing where the treasure was buried.’
‘And you never went after it?’
‘Listen, Billy I’m a frog, I live under a rock on the riverbank and I eat slugs, snails, flies and bugs. What would I want with treasure?’
‘Could I have the map, then?’
‘Yes, but do you think it will do you any good?’
‘Any good are you kidding? I could buy a Castle and a Ferrari and a Jet and a Yacht and have servants to wait on me hand and foot.’
‘And will you be happy?’
‘I’m sure I will.’
So now it was the Easter fete and the vicarage garden was filled with stalls, all there to raise money for the bell fund, and Billy was deep in the shrubbery at the bottom of the garden.
The map told him that the treasure was buried, twenty-five paces north of the gooseberry bush. But there were three gooseberry bushes and Billy had already checked out two; all that digging and nothing to show.
Twenty-four, twenty-five, Billy began to dig; this was the last bush, the treasure had to be here. Two foot down his spade hit something hard; he knelt and brushed the soil away revealing the lid of the chest. Gently he raised the lid, the chest was empty save for a note that said, ‘Praise be the Lord.’
Crestfallen, all his dreams gone in a flash Billy made his way out of the shrubbery and arrived back just in time. The vicar was about to make an announcement, ‘Fellow parishioners we have worked hard to raise funds for the new church bells and now our prayers have been answered. We now have sufficient money to buy the bells.’
No one had any idea where the money came from, and the vicar wouldn’t tell.
But every Sunday morning when the bells rang, Billy knew that it was Long John’s treasure that called everyone to prayers.
