We used to read, when youngsters,
stirring tales of pirates bold,
With their bags of buried treasure and the hoards
of hidden gold.
And, in imagination, we would sail
the southern sea
And dream of deeds of valor and think what fun 'twould
be
To join the bold, bad buccaneers;
be captain of the band,
And find a little island with a coral reef and sand,
With a cunning little harbor, where
our ship could not be found,
And there we'd hide the treasure, in a cave 'way
underground.
And there we'd fight the natives,
and kill them by the score,
And then set sail and roam the sea until we found
some more.
We loved such tales as these, and,
even now, when we are old,
The thought of such an island makes us wish those
pirates bold
Had left some hidden treasure caves
a little nearer home,
So we could go and find them, and not have so far
to roam.
Now, if you'll listen carefully, I'll
tell what I know
About a treasure island you can find it you will
go
To a lake among the mountains that
the Indians knew so well,
Where, even to the present day, the Indian spirits
dwell.
There's a little wonder island in
a corner of the lake;
It is close to Sleeper's Island and not far from
Rattlesnake.
You can see it from Mount Major, when
it's clear and sunny weather,
And it's there the Mishe Mokwa campers love to get
together.
There are hoards of golden sunshine
and a treasure store of health,
And you get it all for nothing, though it's worth
all kinds of wealth.
And there we live the simple life
that only campers know,
With those happy, carefree youngsters with their
faces all aglow.
The time goes by too rapidly, so filled
up are the days
With work and play that helps us all in many, many
ways.
The work is so enjoyable that when
the summer's done
We really find, instead of work, we've had a lot
of fun.
We do not wear our Sunday clothes,
nor have our trousers pressed,
We only need a coat of tan to be correctly dressed.
Oh! it's pippin' in the summer-time
to be on Treasure Isle.
It's got all other kinds of pleasure beaten by a
mile.
If you ask me what I'm going to do
when summer comes again,
I'm going to pack my duffel bag and take an early
train
And get to Treasure Island just as
quickly as can be,
For there isn't any island in the world I'd rather
see.
— Arthur Hammond.
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