Prevod
Na Little Necku na Long Islandu je glinast breg, kjer dež tu in tam razkrije kovinske gomolje. Podeželani trdijo, da so iz srebra, njihovo drobljenje pa razlagajo s tem, da je kovina prekleta. Pred stoletjem so jih izkopavali Montauki; prekopati so morali precej zemlje, da so kdaj pa kdaj našli te kepice, ki so jih nato v najbližjih naseljih menjavali za tobak in rum. Navidezno obilje teh srebrnih grud je vzbudilo pohlep nekega Gardinerja, ki je živel v divjini sredi otoka, vendar mu nobeden od Indijancev ni hotel razkriti izvora njihovega zaklada. Nekega dne je Gardinerju uspelo starega poglavarja tako opiti, da je belca, ne da bi se zavedal, kaj počne, odpeljal do glinastega ležišča in mu pokazal kovinske lise, ki so se lesketale v soncu. Gardiner je navdušeno vzkliknil, planil naprej in s prsti začel grebsti zemljo, Indijanec pa je stal ob njem in se smejal njegovi vnemi.
Kmalu je belčev obraz preletela senca, saj je pomislil, da bo moral ta neizmerni zaklad deliti z drugimi. Tega ni mogel prenesti. Hotel je vse. Postal bo najbogatejši človek na svetu. Ko se je Indijanec stoje pozibaval in hihital, se mu je prikradel za hrbet, mu izza pasu iztrgal sekirico in mu z enim samim udarcem razklal lobanjo. Nato je truplo odvlekel v goščavo in ga skril pod kamenje in listje, sam pa pohitel domov po voz, kramp in lopato. Brž se je vrnil in pred sončnim zahodom izkopal pol tone srebra. Naložil ga je na voz in se odpravil proti domu, drhteč od vznemirjenja in si v mislih slikajoč bleščečo prihodnost, ko ga je tožeč glas iz goščave ustavil, da je prebledel. Iz grmovja je neslišno zdrsnila postava. Bil je Indijanec, ki ga je ubil. Prikazen se je približala zakladu, sunkovito dvignila roko in izrekla nekaj grlenih besed; nato jo je veter, ki se je dvigal, kakor privzdignil s tal in jo odnesel proti Longislandskemu prelivu, dokler ni v daljavi zbledela kakor oblak.
Poln zlih slutenj se je Gardiner odpeljal domov in ob soju svetilke znosil svoj zaklad v klet. Je bila kovina videti tako črna zaradi medle svetlobe sveče? Po noči, ko se je v vročičnem nemiru premetaval po postelji, je vstal in šel v klet, da bi se naslajal nad svojim bogastvom. Svetloba zore je padala na kup sivega prahu, iz katerega so tu in tam kukali delci, podobni medenini. Prekletstvo duha je pokazalo svojo moč in srebro ni bilo več srebro. Mineralogi pravijo, da so gomolji železov pirit. Morda res; toda stari prebivalci vedo, da so bili nekoč srebro.
Izvirnik
There is a clay bank on Little Neck, Long Island, where metallic nodules are now and then exposed by rain. Rustics declare them to be silver, and account for their crumbling on the theory that the metal is under a curse. A century ago the Montauks mined it, digging over enough soil to unearth these pellets now and again, and exchanging them at the nearest settlements for tobacco and rum. The seeming abundance of these lumps of silver aroused the cupidity of one Gardiner, a dweller in the central wilderness of the island, but none of the Indians would reveal the source of their treasure. One day Gardiner succeeded in getting an old chief so tipsy that, without realizing what he was doing, he led the white man to the clay bed and showed him the metallic spots glittering in the sun. With a cry of delight Gardiner sprang forward and tore at the earth with his fingers, while the Indian stood by laughing at his eagerness.
Presently a shade crossed the white man's face, for he thought that this vast treasure would have to be shared by others. It was too much to endure. He wanted all. He would be the richest man on earth. Stealing behind the Indian as he stood swaying and chuckling, he wrenched the hatchet from his belt and clove his skull at a blow. Then, dragging the body to a thicket and hiding it under stones and leaves, he hurried to his house for cart and pick and shovel, and returning with speed he dug out a half ton of the silver before sunset. The cart was loaded, and he set homeward, trembling with excitement and conjuring bright visions for his future, when a wailing sound from a thicket made him halt and turn pale. Noiselessly a figure glided from the bush. It was the Indian he had killed. The form approached the treasure, flung up its arm, uttered a few guttural words; then a rising wind seemed to lift it from the ground and it drifted toward the Sound, fading like a cloud as it receded.
Full of misgiving, Gardiner drove to his home, and, by light of a lantern, transferred his treasure to his cellar. Was it the dulness of the candle that made the metal look so black? After a night of feverish tossing on his bed he arose and went to the cellar to gloat upon his wealth. The light of dawn fell on a heap of gray dust, a few brassy looking particles showing here and there. The curse of the ghost had been of power and the silver was silver no more. Mineralogists say that the nodules are iron pyrites. Perhaps so; but old residents know that they used to be silver.
