Don’t worry—you’ll know
soon enough. Nancy Faukner (unclear
whether she’s related to William Faulkner or not) answers that almost right
away, on page 12—and the meaning’s important because the book’s about a search
for a long barrow!
This story follows the adventures of three children—particularly Becky Webster, our thirteen-year-old heroine. She and her siblings—cousin Pat of the same age who was adopted after his parents died in a plane crash, and younger brother (by two years) Tim—are spending a few months in England at Long Barrow House while their father, a university professor, takes sabbatical to finish writing a book. As our story opens, Becky is upset because the children are about to get a tutor, and she thinks he’ll be a boring old man who will keep them too busy to figure out the secret of the old mansion. What’s the mansion’s secret? Becky doesn’t have a clue; she just surmises that the mansion has one.
As a matter of fact, she’s wrong and right—wrong about the tutor, Derek, a smart young Oxford graduate with a wonderful sense of humor and an interest in archaeology. He hits it off with the kids and tells them the secret of the mansion—or not of the mansion specifically, rather of the property it sits on. It seems, about a thousand years ago, England was inhabited by little dark men who were later overrun by big blond men that drove the little dark men away. Both these groups held superstitious beliefs that when someone died, they went on a journey—sort of like the ancient Egyptians—and so, like the Egyptian pharaohs, they were buried with all their treasures. Only, these people didn’t know how to build pyramids, so they made their resting places in long barrows instead—long and narrow mounds. Legend has it that one of them sits on Long Barrow House’s massive property, and the former owner, Mr. Crowley, spent years looking for it. He was a recluse who’d never allow anyone on the land, until one day, when he decided to throw a big party, at which he’d supposedly divulge the location of the barrow—unfortunately, he died unexpectedly before the date of the party, and no one ever found out where it was. Derek the tutor really wants to find it so they can excavate it and learn more about the peoples that once inhabited England.
Now that they know the secret, the kids want to find it—so they set off towards the woods to go looking for it. After trekking through them, they come upon a clearing with a little stone house set in the edge of a hill. Going up to it, they’re about to go in and search when they’re surprised by the appearance of a man who looks like he could have been one of the little dark folk Derek was telling them about. The short fellow waves a club over his head, calls the kids “children of darkness,” and orders them “Away, before you anger the Ancient Ones of Britain!”
He succeeds in scaring the kids off—they run home and tell Derek the tutor of their adventure. He laughs it off and tells the kids that they’ve just met “Georgie the Ox,” a former farmhand for Derek’s grandfather who’s been a bit “balmy” ever since falling off a hay wain the summer before. Derek assures the children he’s quite harmless, but nothing Georgie does throughout the rest of the book does anything to support this assertion. The kids go back to the hut to search it—this time, they don’t run into Georgie, but a snowstorm comes up, and they get locked in the hut—
And all this happens in just the first fifty pages of a 188-page adventure! I don’t want to spoil the rest of the story for you, but let’s just say there’ll be a lot more thrills and chills before this book is over—plus a Christmas celebration and a neat festival involving the death of the Fool, which is supposed to be all fun and games. Supposed to be. My only complaint is that the main characters are a little unfocused—nervous about visiting the hut after their first trip there, they wait half the day their next opportunity to visit, intent on first building a snow fort and then having a snowball fight. However, once they actually get down to business, they are pretty effective. I was going to complain that they were a little too timid too—at least, I was until I reached page 176, but—that’s for later. I’d never heard of Nancy Faulkner or this story until I found it at The Dusty Bookshelf in Lawrence, Kansas, and I must say, one of the main incentives for buying it was that it was only $2.95. However, after reading it, I’d be sure to snap up any book by Faulkner I run across in the future. For the best book ever written about long barrows, be sure to check out this story!



