ROBERT MORRISS: CANNIBAL SLAYER

Rebel - KGC said:
...SOME of the BOLLING family changed their names to BOWLING, to avoid "nasty" connections to "war & rumors of war"...
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The Judge chuckled as he read the deposition of Red Bolling in that Yankee boys file.
"First he comes on my land telling me that a red kneed tarantula showed me the way to this spot which is the site of the Beale vault.
Then he went on to tell me that there are two treasures the Beale treasure and another from the Civil War that involved the Bowlings from Maryland, but when he kept telling me that I was related to those Yankee sympathizer Bowlings, well I just had to salt his hide".
Judge Updike was friends with Red Bolling since they were boys, often packing lunches and going fishing together in Goose Creek.
He laughed again, knowing Red didn't cotton much to wise talking Northerners.
One day, while fishing, Red had shown him a pocket watch he had found on the Peaks. When opened, it had a sepia photo of a beautiful young lady and on the inside of the lid, a carved map. Red believed that it was a treasure map, probably where Hutter and the VMI Cadets hid some of the Confederate treasury.
Suddenly, a fish jerked the line and the watch fell from Red's hand, only to be caught mid fall by a raven who flew off towards the Peaks.
Judge Updike pondered on that watch, wondering if it really was a treasure map.
 

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Two hundred yards downslope the man laid his detector on the rocks and sat for a rest.
He waved to his wife watching over the fence from the parking area.
"Gonna twist an ankle in this stuff" , he thought.
Looking down to adjust his hat brim for the setting sun he caught a shine.
Could be worth something he thought turning the case and wondering if it was plated or not.
The fob looked rough, the chain too , but maybe after a clean up.....

Back at their room in the lodge,rented as a break from the motor home and with his reading glasses and a gentle cleaning he found detail in the lid missed before.
" Take a look hon,".
"Map?". Ya .Reckon so".

"Them triangles match the brochure of these peaks. Not as sharp as the watch shows...".
That squiggle might be the creek too..and it shows a big house and a little house with an eye in the little house.

They pulled up the locale on their laptop.
" This line on the map cuts across the point of land where the creek bends here on google earth. See that row of trees that follow the line?
This symbol , a rectangle with an arrow up and down on the north end at the creek looks like a door that goes up and down?
What door goes up and down? Must mean something else , and look here , a pair of wing dividers on the cover."

Let's see how close we can get to those houses tomorrow ,you
think?"
She smiled. "Since you ask. What do we have for roads?".

The following morning after breakfast and settling up their bill they headed out.
Twenty minutes later they stopped at a singlewide trailer with a man along side a tractor who stood when they pulled in.
" Good morning. Trying to get to the houses by the creek" the watch holder announced.
" Morning, trying to cultivate the weeds" said the man at the tractor. " Won't stay runnin".
" Dad had a 48 " said the watch holder ," first time I ever heard him cuss."
The man at the tractor laughed appreciably. " It will inspire that alright".
Battery's dead from trying and my charger is kaput".
"Got a crank?" "Ya, right here " and he pulled it from it's clip on the operating stations floor.
" You mind?" Asked the watch holder. " Be my guest".

" Hmmmm, les see here ...as he shook the shifter...neutral , kill switch on",and as he moved about ..throttle at half, choke.." say how long since you cranked it?"
"Bout an hour ago."
" Alright, I'll hit the switch off..." Then the man gave it a full crank,being careful to not wrap his thumb over the crank in case it kicked back ,then pulled the switch to on and gave it a half crank upward pull.
After it sputtered he reached to the carburetor and opened the choke halfway , then another half pull brought a sputter and catch then run then stall.
Looking at the throttle he had opened he waved the owner over.
" You're throttle is wanderin" he said reaching around behind the carb , holding the front piece of throttle plate on outer through rod and moving the choke lever itself freely to demonstrate.
" Durn it! " the owner said ," we been there before".
He pulled a screwdriver out of the little tool box on the platform, eyed the outside position of the throttle plate,moved the choke rod and tightened it down.
" Ready?" said the watch holder. " Have at it". This time the sputter held and the owner climbed into the seat.
" Follow the creek up, you'll see the ol chimbly an the springhouse. I'll make a few turns on this side of the forty an charge it up some ,then catch up wid ya's."
The watch holder turned and smiling to his wife said " grab your pack and our map we drew".
 

The old chimney marked a house. Near it but almost too far to be convenient was the springhouse. Well placed stone but with a collapsed roof it hosted decades of leaves in the few feet of chamber where milk cans once cooled and butter ,melons or whatever needed to be kept cool rested.
But where was the water?
Following the line of trees to the north brought answers when upon reaching the creek and studying a short stone wall projecting into it a few feet,long filled in on the upstream side but still showing a few rows on the downstream side; their new friend drove up ,shut the tractor down and joined them.

" Know watchur lookin at?" He asked.
" A wall of some sort" , said the Mrs. Speaking for the first time.
"A wall then " said the owner. " That wall diverted part of the flow straight down a ditch channel through the springhouse then back into the creek on the other side.
Right up on this edge was the gate to control how much from spring high water to low summer".
" Ahhh" ,said the watch holder. " Who built it?"
" Well, not sure we're ready to discuss that matter, no offense , but lots of folks come up with strange ideas around these parts and things that were normal back when seem ,not so much nowadays."
Fair enough" said the watch holder ," we have a strange idea ourselves we'd like to share with you ,if you see fit".
" It hinges on Mason's having been here though ,so's unless they were here it don't matter".
The owner looked at his visitors a minute. " Why, everyone was masons back then. When great grandad come back missing a leg they's came out here for a pic nic and brought six wagon loads of stone an built this here springhouse."
"After you two tell me what you know and what becomes of this knowing you's are keeping what is found here kept between us. I've an idea myself".

" Well ,we ain't for tellin an won't ,far as your place here and anything from it ,if anything. Here's our map off an old watch...there is an eye on the floor of the springhouse on the map".

"I know that eye" said the owner. " We need to talk terms. If'n agreeable I'll show ya's the eye."
 

" Well. We ain't strangers to tail chasin stories around here. Or the country for that matter. We was hit by blind luck lookin for brass along them peaks and that watch turning up.
Your spring house is all we got. "
The owner laughed, but not a fun laugh.
" Half to me, if'n anything becomes of it".
The watch owner looked to his wife who nodded.
"Well then" said the owner, " we need buckets an some gloves, I'll be back directly."
An hour later they had the low tank shaped half of the floor cleaned out.
Dark stone slabs on the bottom had lighter stones inlaid forming an elongated diamond , with a dark six inch round centered and below the surrounding slabs.
Outside during a break they had noticed the round point of land the creek went around on one side was complemented on the opposite side of the spring house with a half circle of large boulders.
An eye centered by the springhouse from a birds view.

" Now what?" Asked the watch holder after gloving out the eye at the bottom of the cistern.
" I guess we uncover the eye's pupil sunk in there" said the owner.
They carefully removed slab after slab until they uncovered a 1x2 foot plate of lead.
Double teaming it out of the springhouse they waited for the Mrs. To bring water from the creek.
Poured over the plate a map appeared engraved.
 

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"You mention the Masons. Was your great granddad a Mason?
"Yep, Dove Lodge number 51, Richmond. Same as James Beverly Ward, I reckon ya know the name. Reckon why you're here".
"You say he knew Ward"?
"Lost his leg when after helping Ward's Hutter cousin find a hidie hole for sumthin mighty important. On his way back to Lynchburg a Yankee cannon took his leg. Ward took him to a hospital in Lynchburg where his wife's aunty Mina Otey kept him from getting gangrene".
 

With paint brushes from the shed and water at hand the couple cleaned the surface of the plate while the man watched.
" Don't make a bit of sense" he said.
" What part?" A springhouse with no spring or a map to a map?"
"None of that" the owner said softly. "This lead hasn't a mark on it from them slabs that laid on it....there wasn't a touch of morter in that floor neither"
"That chimbley you seen earlier was proper built by dads dad's mason hands ;with morter."

" You thinkin Masons didn't place this plate then?".
" Mebbe not".

The plate cleaned, then dried with a rag revealed a sun where the eyes pupil had been.
The owner went to the shed again,switched on his flashlight, nodded when when looking into the lens was met with no light.
After dumping the batteries out he tapped the end off the first gently with a ball peen hammer and setting the broken carbon rod on the bench after getting the case open ,tried the second battery with more success ,extracting the rod intact.
A trip to the trailer and he returned with a folded piece of holiday wrapping paper he unfolded as he walked and set another near the plate with a stone to secure it.
" Been slicing our bread thin a while " was said with a straight face.
Laying the paper on the plate and rubbing the carbon rod on it slowly showed the engraving.
" Do this for makin cereal box gaskets sometimes. This'n here's my insurance" he said rolling it into a cylinder,walking to the trailer and returning without it..
"Make yourselves one and we'll hide that plate again for security. I've got a field to finish an if you's can we'll meet back here after dark".
" We ain't goin nowhere. Maybe a run into town to stock up some grub is all."
" Good . See to it you keep this quiet".
"Done" said the visitors simultaneously. " You need anything?".
" A bigger tractor's all " the man laughed and cranking his to life rolled into the corn nearly tall enough to scrape the tractor , then dropped the cultivators.
Watching him followed by a haze of dust both visitors sensed this scene was generations old on this same field.
 

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Arriving back at the homestead their lights swept across the tractor back out front as they swung in the drive.
A knock on the door was greeted by " c'mon then".
At the kitchen/ dining table in the kitchen half of the greatroom sat their host working on a raised towel ,fishing screws out of an egg carton and re assembling a fishing reel.
"Twasn't expecting company this week ,coffee's on ,help yourselves".
While the mrs poured and sat two more cups on the table her husband sat across from the reel work.
" Bent the shaft " the owner said without being asked.
" How'd you straighten it?"
"Jess roll it on the edge of the table and lean on it a few times till I got the wobble out".
" You are a patient man " said the watch holder.
" Fishin' ll do that. That an a tight budget".
" You're right about that" the watch holder said taking a tentative sip of still too hot coffee.

The mrs meanwhile browsed the few pictures on one wall of multiple generations.
One of their host,much younger, with a family held her notice ; then feeling intrusive by wondering ... she moved on to the short wall covered solid with antlers.
" They don't leave a plantation in the South" their host said without looking up.
" Unlike kin do".
On her way back to the table she looked again at the several big city postcards on the fridge. Yellowed and faded from light through surprisingly clean windows above the sink, they had been there a very long time.

Back at the table she pulled a bag of ginger snaps out of a haversack she'd worn in and sat down after opening them and placing them in front of the men as the finished reel was checked with a spin of the handle.
"No more tight spot". Then setting it aside lifted the towel off the lead plate.
" We ought to put this back after checking our copies. Tain't our place to have it out . You's looked your's over yet?".
He then took a ginger snap ,dunked it quickly then popped in in his mouth whole,savored it a while then returned to the subject.
" Things has changed but there's a C.S.A. Medical Corps symbol on that one building."

"Ol Bolling A. Pope come up here from Athens after the war. He still made glass eyes for veterans. Never seemed the war ended for him.
Grand daddy said ol Bolling said half the war was moving patients and equipment ahead of the Yanks.
Wonder'n iffin he knew anything about this map or what it means? Twern't many around had anything to do with medical ,but... there's lots more to this map than one building, an how many eyes you's spotted?"
 

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Rebel - KGC said:
Three buildings of "interest" serving as CSA Hospitals were: the WASHINGTON HOTEL on Church Street, the NORVELL HOTEL on 12th Street, and PLANTER'S on Main Street...
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The Mrs looked once again at the post cards, noticing that one was an advertisement for the Washington Hotel. She removed it from the fridge and turned it over observing a delicate but neatly written message:" Uncle Morriss will stay with us during the War while hotel is hospital. JBW
 

JOHN YATES BEALL, CSA - WIKI; Friend of JWB (even "looks" like him). Born in Jefferson County, Va. (now West Virginia). Attended Mr. Jefferson's University of Virginia; studied LAW. INTERESTING History of this CSA Privateer, behind enemy's lines... THE GREAT LAKES. KGC in CANADA. Heh!
 

releventchair said:
...

"I know that eye" said the owner. " We need to talk terms. If'n agreeable I'll show ya's the eye."
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Intrigued by the landowner's words, he asked," Will the eye reveal the truth behind the legend"?
"There are many legends and truths hereabouts", the owner cryptically replied, " There be many fictions based on truth and many a truth based on fiction".
Stunned into silence by that answer, he had to pause to ponder its real meaning.
"It's all in the journey of the quest that brings forth understanding" the owner added.
 

releventchair said:
...
"Ol Bolling A. Pope come up here from Athens after the war. He still made glass eyes for veterans. Never seemed the war ended for him.
Grand daddy said ol Bolling said half the war was moving patients and equipment ahead of the Yanks.
Wonder'n iffin he knew anything about this map or what it means? Twern't many around had anything to do with medical ,but... there's lots more to this map than one building, an how many eyes you's spotted?"
Click to expand...
As the owner of the property studied the map, the man looked down at the eye recovered from the springwell bottom.
THE GLASS EYE BLINKED!
The man stepped back in reaction, then shaking his head doubting that he had really seen that, he once again approached and stared down at the glass eye.
THE EYE BLINKED AGAIN AT HIM-ALL KNOWING!
 

"Disney, as you are aware, is well into the treasure hunting genre as we observed finding clues though out the Disneyworld park today".
The Tiki Bar & Grille in Cleremont , Florida was a well known gathering spot for those involved in the Beale treasure search and ciphers, and today was a major cryptic cipher conclave, held on the back patio facing the lake.
Three men listened intently to the speaker from Pennsylvania as he noted the significance of the red knee tarantulas exhibit in Disney's Animal Kingdom to the Beale story.
The waitress brought another round of Landshark lager to the table, the Tiki Bar did not carry the stronger Bee Ale, which was fortunate, because not one among the four at the conclave could handle that potent drink.
The speaker finished and the codebreaker from Louisiana announced, "I have found another limerick in the C3 cipher, and it involves a girl from Nantucket"!
 

The two applauded after hearing the limerick.
"That seals it! You are the only man to solve the Beale codes", exclaimed the one hangeron who was always quick with praise while having no knowledge of the matter presented.
The previous speaker sulked over his Landshark lager, wondering how all his research on Poe, Emerson, and red knee tarantulas had brought him into this current company when his phone rang.
The other three stopped their chatting when they heard him say into the phone-
"The glass eye blinked?!"!
 

Rebel - KGC said:
SPOOKY! VERY Spooky!
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A chill ran down his back as his grip tightened on his cell phone. In all his research a glass eye was never mentioned, and here, his field representative spoke of one he removed from a springwell and it blinked at him. He showed it to the landowner, who saw an ordinary glass eye, and it did not blink at him.
After listening for 10 minutes more, the other three straining their eyes attempting to hear the conversation, he turned the cell phone off, placed in his shirt pocket, rising from the table.
"I must depart for Virginia".
 

Momentarily the three sat silently at the table, wondering what that conversation about an eye was all about.
"Do you think he knows where the vault is located", asked he youngest.
"Well there was no eye mentioned in my solved cipher. He probably heard about a red knee spider infestation" was the reply between laughter.
"Hear, hear", the other two replied.
"Yes you are the only man who solved the Beale codes. You would have known if there were eyes"!
 

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