Chapter 6
Lime Lane, Swainshurst, Wealdshire. Sunday 10 May 1998
Josie switched off her radio, opened her bedroom window, and looked out into the garden. 'Hey, Chris,' she called.
Luckily, Chris had just removed the headphones attached to his metal detector so he heard his sister's call. He held something up and grinned.
'What have you found?' Josie asked.
'An old penny. But I've got lots more treasure in this bucket.'
'Oh yeah. Like what?'
Chris put his hand in the bucket and rummaged around. 'A Roman milk bottle top, a pair of screws from a Viking longboat, a broken screwdriver that once belonged to Charles I, and a spring from a bed which Elizabeth I once slept in.'
Josie couldn't stop laughing. 'When are you going to open your treasure shop?'
Chris screwed up his face. 'Well, I'd like to find Stephenson's Rocket first. I think it might be under the rockery.'
'Don't you mean rocketry? Better be quick, then. The weather forecast said it's going to rain again later.' She started to close the window and then added, 'Don't forget to fill in the holes or Dad'll be after you.'
Chris waved her away and was just about to put his headphones back on when he heard someone else calling him.
'Good morning, young sir. What escapades are you engaged in today?'
A round face with twinkling eyes was peering over the top of the fence.
'Morning Mr Potter. I'm trying out my metal detector. It was a birthday present from Mum and Dad.'
'Ah ha. Sweet sixteen are you? Or should you only say that to girls? Anyway, it's your sister's birthday as well. Wish her many happy returns for me.'
Chris nodded. 'Yeah, I will.'
'And a happy birthday to you as well, of course.'
'Thanks.'
'I expect that when you've finished finding all the treasure in your garden you'll want to come over and probe on my estate.'
'Could I? That would be great. Can I pop over now?'
'Why not, indeed. Come on.'
A moment or two later Chris had gathered up his belongings and made his way round to Mr Potter's gate.
'Come in, my boy, and give me a lesson in metal detecting.'
Half an hour later it was obvious to Chris that the only person who was going to have an opportunity to find any buried treasure in Mr Potter's garden was Mr Potter himself. Finally, the old chap removed the headphones, handed the machine back to Chris and said, 'I don't think we'll get rich on these pickings, do you?'
Chris cast a glance over the motley collection of rusty junk that he had just dug up and nodded his agreement.
'Never mind, Chris. You can't expect to find much treasure trove on your first day. Now, it's time for me to return the favour.'
Chris looked puzzled. 'What d'you mean?'
'You've shown me how to use your detector. Now I'll show you how to use mine.'
'You've got a metal detector?'
'I didn't say metal detector. I just said detector. Leave that there and come with me.'
Chris couldn't help wondering if the old man had finally lost his marbles when Mr Potter led him to the end of the garden and started examining the trees growing there. What on earth is he up to? he wondered.
'Yes. This will do. This will do nicely,' said Mr Potter, more to himself than to Chris. He took a knife from his pocket, cut a small branch from the tree, and proceeded to remove the leaves. Then he trimmed the ends of the branch and held it up. 'Just the ticket,' he said.
Chris found it very difficult to hide his bewilderment as he looked at the Y-shaped branch which Mr Potter was brandishing.
'Do you know what this is?'
'No. I haven't a clue, unless it's a thing for trapping snakes.'
'Ho ho. No snakes are ever trapped on the Potter estate. They're all quite harmless, you know.'
Chris felt like asking if he would still be saying that if he had an adder up his trouser leg. As if reading his mind, Mr Potter added, 'Even adders are perfectly safe as long as you don't antagonise them. However, we aren't studying snakes today, so let's proceed with the task in hand. This, my boy, is a dowsing rod. You can find anything with a good hazel twig.'
Chris suddenly realised what Mr Potter was talking about. 'Oh. Water divining. Is that what you mean?'
'That's right. Most people talk about water divining but the correct term is dowsing. A good dowser can find anything from oil to uranium.'
'But how? It's just a twig. How can a twig know what's under the ground?'
'The twig doesn't know. You know.'
'I don't understand.'
'I'll show you what I mean,' said Mr Potter. 'You hold the rod like this.' He turned the rod around so that the bottom of the Y was facing away from him. He grasped the two ends in his hands as if they were handlebars on a bike, and then slowly moved his fists away from each other so that the Y was forced to bend outwards.
'Now, the rod is under tension. If I move my hands any further apart the tip will flip up or down. Watch.'
If Mr Potter had moved his hands Chris hadn't noticed, but he certainly saw the rod suddenly flip up.
'What I do now is walk slowly across the ground holding the rod in front of me. As soon as I detect something, the rod will move. Somehow, the human body is able to detect things beneath the ground. I don't know whether it's vibrations, magnetism or a change in gravity, but the body detects it, your arm muscles move slightly, and the rod moves. Without the rod you'd never know that your body had registered anything.'
'I see,' said Chris. 'That makes sense. All the twig is doing is exaggerating your muscle movements. So, presumably, you could use anything.'
'Some people use metal rods and others hold a pendulum — a weight on the end of a string. I have even heard of some people who just hold their hands out in front of them.'
'But does it actually work?'
'Without doubt. There are people who make a living from finding water. Even the water companies employ dowsers to find new subterranean sources of water — although I think they keep quiet about it in case they get laughed at.' Mr Potter held out his rod to Chris. 'Here — take this. I'll cut another rod for myself and then we'll have a go at dowsing.'
Chris looked at the rod in his hands and found it very difficult to contain his excitement. If he could make the dowsing rod work he would feel really pleased with himself. While Mr Potter looked for a suitable branch to cut, he tried holding the rod in the way that Mr Potter had demonstrated. He found that if he used his index fingers to pull the stick towards his body, and the outside of his palms to push the stick away, the rod balanced perfectly and the end would rise or dip at the slightest movement of his wrists. 'Mr Potter,' he asked, 'Can anyone dowse?'
'I think that most people probably have the ability to dowse but if they don't know how to hold the rod properly they won't get very far.' He looked down at Chris's hands and asked, 'Does that feel right to you?' When Chris nodded, he continued, 'And, of course, the majority of people would fail simply because they refuse to believe that dowsing is possible.' He finished trimming the second rod, put his knife away, and held the stick out in front of him. 'Right, then. I've got my rod and you look as if you're ready for action. Let's see what we can find.'
Mr Potter started walking slowly across the garden. After a few steps he stopped but motioned Chris to keep going. Suddenly, Chris felt his rod begin to twist. 'It's doing something! I can't hold it!'
The rod turned over completely causing a huge grin to appear on his face. Mr Potter started walking forwards and, as soon as he reached the place where Chris was standing, his rod also twitched.
'Congratulations, my boy. Now then. Let's try a more scientific experiment. We'll move a bit closer to the house and follow a different path but, this time, we'll close our eyes.'
The two of them moved towards the house and then stood side by side, both facing in the same direction.
'Ready?' asked Mr Potter. 'Close your eyes tightly and start walking. As soon as your rod finds something — open your eyes. But don't say anything. Let's go.'
Chris walked forwards slowly until he felt his rod move. Just to be sure, he tried to hold it steady. No — the rod refused to stay horizontal. It felt as if some invisible force was pulling the tip of the stick towards the ground. He opened his eyes and was amazed to find Mr Potter standing right beside him, his rod also pointing downwards. 'This is incredible! There's something pulling the stick down here. It's so powerful that I can't hold it steady. What do you think we've found?'
'Water.'
'Water? You mean there's an underground river here?'
'No.' Mr Potter looked amused. 'It's a pipe. It runs from the house to that tap near the greenhouse.'
'I can't believe this, Mr Potter. Dowsing really works, doesn't it?'
'It certainly does. And you're a dowser — probably a good dowser.'
The grin which appeared on Chris's face seemed to stretch from one ear to the other. 'Thank you, Mr Potter. Just now you said that dowsers can find anything. We know that we've just found water because you know there's a water pipe here — but how could you tell if it wasn't water — how would you know if you'd found gold?'
Mr Potter looked slightly uncomfortable, Chris realised. He opened his mouth to speak — and then seemed to change his mind. 'Well . . .' he finally said, 'That's the part of dowsing that I'm not too sure about. I can find water — I know that for certain — but when it comes to finding other things — I don't know. What is supposed to happen is that you think about the substance you want to find and then, somehow, your dowsing tool responds only to that substance. So, presumably, if you wanted to find oil you'd just keep telling yourself that you're looking for oil.'
'Well,' put in Chris, 'You did say that you have to believe in dowsing before it will work.'
'I expect you're right. Perhaps if I really believed that I could detect oil I'd be able to. Now — do you want to do a bit more dowsing — just to be completely sure that you can do it?'
Chris nodded enthusiastically and they spent another few minutes walking backwards and forwards across the garden until Chris was left in no doubt whatsoever that he really was able to find the pipe. 'I hope no-one is watching us,' he said. 'We must look really weird walking around with our eyes shut and holding these twigs in our hands.'
Mr Potter laughed. 'I've been known as potty Potter for as long as I can remember.' He laughed even more when he saw Chris's discomfort. 'Don't worry. I don't care what people call me.' He glanced up at the sky. 'Now, young man, by the look of those clouds I'd say that we're about to find more water than we want. You'd better get home quickly or you're likely to get drenched.'
'Thanks, Mr Potter. Thanks for showing me how to dowse. I still can't believe I did it.'
'Josie! Josie! Guess what!'
Josie opened her door and was nearly knocked over as her brother rushed into the room. She'd never seen him look so pleased with himself before. 'Don't tell me; you've found the crown jewels. Right?'
'No, better than that. Mr Potter has shown me how to dowse. Using this hazel twig I can find water!'
Josie couldn't help sniggering. She wanted to believe her brother but she knew him too well to accept everything that he told her.
Without taking any offence at Josie's scepticism, Chris persevered. 'Really! I can. It's easy. Go and ask Mr Potter if you don't believe me.'
Josie, looking thoughtful, slowly wagged her finger at Chris and then walked over to her bookshelf. 'I wonder . . .' she murmured as she lifted down a book. She flicked through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Placing the open book on the table where Chris could see it she said, 'Check this out, Chris. Some dowsers say that they can detect leys. Fancy a spot of ley hunting in Blackfriars Wood?'
'Well, yeah. Sure. Mr Potter said that you can find lots of things — not just water. I bet I can find your leys for you. I'm a genius.' He glanced towards the window where he could see that the rain had started again. 'But let's wait until the rain stops. Fancy a game of chess instead?'
'In a minute. I've just thought of something. Blackfriars Wood is on the route of the new road. I hope our ley intersection isn't going to be covered in tarmac.'
'Well, if it is, you'll just have to go and join the protesters. I expect they'd find room for you in one of their tree houses.'