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Treasure Island by Robert by Louis Stevenson

Part 3 out of 5

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partridges. All they wanted was a good watch and food;
for, short of a complete surprise, they might have held
the place against a regiment.

What particularly took my fancy was the spring. For
though we had a good enough place of it in the cabin of
the HISPANIOLA, with plenty of arms and ammunition,
and things to eat, and excellent wines, there had been
one thing overlooked--we had no water. I was thinking
this over when there came ringing over the island the
cry of a man at the point of death. I was not new to
violent death--I have served his Royal Highness the
Duke of Cumberland, and got a wound myself at Fontenoy--
but I know my pulse went dot and carry one. "Jim
Hawkins is gone," was my first thought.

It is something to have been an old soldier, but more
still to have been a doctor. There is no time to
dilly-dally in our work. And so now I made up my mind
instantly, and with no time lost returned to the shore
and jumped on board the jolly-boat.

By good fortune Hunter pulled a good oar. We made the
water fly, and the boat was soon alongside and I aboard
the schooner.

I found them all shaken, as was natural. The squire
was sitting down, as white as a sheet, thinking of the
harm he had led us to, the good soul! And one of the
six forecastle hands was little better.

"There's a man," says Captain Smollett, nodding towards
him, "new to this work. He came nigh-hand fainting,
doctor, when he heard the cry. Another touch of the
rudder and that man would join us."

I told my plan to the captain, and between us we
settled on the details of its accomplishment.

We put old Redruth in the gallery between the cabin and
the forecastle, with three or four loaded muskets and a
mattress for protection. Hunter brought the boat round
under the stern-port, and Joyce and I set to work
loading her with powder tins, muskets, bags of
biscuits, kegs of pork, a cask of cognac, and my
invaluable medicine chest.

In the meantime, the squire and the captain stayed on
deck, and the latter hailed the coxswain, who was the
principal man aboard.

"Mr. Hands," he said, "here are two of us with a brace
of pistols each. If any one of you six make a signal
of any description, that man's dead."

They were a good deal taken aback, and after a little
consultation one and all tumbled down the fore
companion, thinking no doubt to take us on the rear.
But when they saw Redruth waiting for them in the
sparred galley, they went about ship at once, and a
head popped out again on deck.

"Down, dog!" cries the captain.

And the head popped back again; and we heard no more,
for the time, of these six very faint-hearted seamen.

By this time, tumbling things in as they came, we had
the jolly-boat loaded as much as we dared. Joyce and I
got out through the stern-port, and we made for shore
again as fast as oars could take us.

This second trip fairly aroused the watchers along
shore. "Lillibullero" was dropped again; and just
before we lost sight of them behind the little point,
one of them whipped ashore and disappeared. I had half
a mind to change my plan and destroy their boats, but I
feared that Silver and the others might be close at hand,
and all might very well be lost by trying for too much.

We had soon touched land in the same place as before and
set to provision the block house. All three made the
first journey, heavily laden, and tossed our stores over
the palisade. Then, leaving Joyce to guard them--one man,
to be sure, but with half a dozen muskets--Hunter and I
returned to the jolly-boat and loaded ourselves once more.
So we proceeded without pausing to take breath, till the
whole cargo was bestowed, when the two servants took up
their position in the block house, and I, with all my power,
sculled back to the HISPANIOLA.

That we should have risked a second boat load seems
more daring than it really was. They had the advantage
of numbers, of course, but we had the advantage of
arms. Not one of the men ashore had a musket, and
before they could get within range for pistol shooting,
we flattered ourselves we should be able to give a good
account of a half-dozen at least.

The squire was waiting for me at the stern window, all
his faintness gone from him. He caught the painter and
made it fast, and we fell to loading the boat for our
very lives. Pork, powder, and biscuit was the cargo,
with only a musket and a cutlass apiece for the squire
and me and Redruth and the captain. The rest of the
arms and powder we dropped overboard in two fathoms and a
half of water, so that we could see the bright steel shining
far below us in the sun, on the clean, sandy bottom.

By this time the tide was beginning to ebb, and the
ship was swinging round to her anchor. Voices were
heard faintly halloaing in the direction of the two
gigs; and though this reassured us for Joyce and
Hunter, who were well to the eastward, it warned our
party to be off.

Redruth retreated from his place in the gallery and
dropped into the boat, which we then brought round to
the ship's counter, to be handier for Captain Smollett.

"Now, men," said he, "do you hear me?"

There was no answer from the forecastle.

"It's to you, Abraham Gray--it's to you I am speaking."

Still no reply.

"Gray," resumed Mr. Smollett, a little louder, "I am
leaving this ship, and I order you to follow your
captain. I know you are a good man at bottom, and I
dare say not one of the lot of you's as bad as he makes
out. I have my watch here in my hand; I give you
thirty seconds to join me in."

There was a pause.

"Come, my fine fellow," continued the captain; "don't
hang so long in stays. I'm risking my life and the
lives of these good gentlemen every second."

There was a sudden scuffle, a sound of blows, and out burst
Abraham Gray with a knife cut on the side of the cheek, and
came running to the captain like a dog to the whistle.

"I'm with you, sir," said he.

And the next moment he and the captain had dropped
aboard of us, and we had shoved off and given way.

We were clear out of the ship, but not yet ashore in
our stockade.


Narrative Continued by the Doctor: The Jolly-boat's
Last Trip

THIS fifth trip was quite different from any of the
others. In the first place, the little gallipot of a
boat that we were in was gravely overloaded. Five
grown men, and three of them--Trelawney, Redruth, and
the captain--over six feet high, was already more than
she was meant to carry. Add to that the powder, pork,
and bread-bags. The gunwale was lipping astern.
Several times we shipped a little water, and my
breeches and the tails of my coat were all soaking wet
before we had gone a hundred yards.

The captain made us trim the boat, and we got her
to lie a little more evenly. All the same, we were
afraid to breathe.

In the second place, the ebb was now making--a strong
rippling current running westward through the basin,
and then south'ard and seaward down the straits by
which we had entered in the morning. Even the ripples
were a danger to our overloaded craft, but the worst of
it was that we were swept out of our true course and
away from our proper landing-place behind the point.
If we let the current have its way we should come
ashore beside the gigs, where the pirates might appear
at any moment.

"I cannot keep her head for the stockade, sir," said I
to the captain. I was steering, while he and Redruth,
two fresh men, were at the oars. "The tide keeps
washing her down. Could you pull a little stronger?"

"Not without swamping the boat," said he. "You must
bear up, sir, if you please--bear up until you see
you're gaining."

I tried and found by experiment that the tide kept sweeping
us westward until I had laid her head due east, or just
about right angles to the way we ought to go.

"We'll never get ashore at this rate," said I.

"If it's the only course that we can lie, sir, we must
even lie it," returned the captain. "We must keep
upstream. You see, sir," he went on, "if once we dropped
to leeward of the landing-place, it's hard to say where we
should get ashore, besides the chance of being boarded by
the gigs; whereas, the way we go the current must slacken,
and then we can dodge back along the shore."

"The current's less a'ready, sir," said the man Gray,
who was sitting in the fore-sheets; "you can ease her
off a bit."

"Thank you, my man," said I, quite as if nothing had
happened, for we had all quietly made up our minds to
treat him like one of ourselves.

Suddenly the captain spoke up again, and I thought his
voice was a little changed.

"The gun!" said he.

"I have thought of that," said I, for I made sure he
was thinking of a bombardment of the fort. "They could
never get the gun ashore, and if they did, they could
never haul it through the woods."

"Look astern, doctor," replied the captain.

We had entirely forgotten the long nine; and there, to
our horror, were the five rogues busy about her,
getting off her jacket, as they called the stout
tarpaulin cover under which she sailed. Not only that,
but it flashed into my mind at the same moment that the
round-shot and the powder for the gun had been left
behind, and a stroke with an axe would put it all into
the possession of the evil ones abroad.

"Israel was Flint's gunner," said Gray hoarsely.

At any risk, we put the boat's head direct for the
landing-place. By this time we had got so far out of
the run of the current that we kept steerage way even
at our necessarily gentle rate of rowing, and I could
keep her steady for the goal. But the worst of it was
that with the course I now held we turned our broadside
instead of our stern to the HISPANIOLA and offered
a target like a barn door.

I could hear as well as see that brandy-faced rascal
Israel Hands plumping down a round-shot on the deck.

"Who's the best shot?" asked the captain.

"Mr. Trelawney, out and away," said I.

"Mr. Trelawney, will you please pick me off one of
these men, sir? Hands, if possible," said the captain.

Trelawney was as cool as steel. He looked to the
priming of his gun.

"Now," cried the captain, "easy with that gun, sir, or
you'll swamp the boat. All hands stand by to trim her
when he aims."

The squire raised his gun, the rowing ceased, and we leaned
over to the other side to keep the balance, and all was so
nicely contrived that we did not ship a drop.

They had the gun, by this time, slewed round upon the
swivel, and Hands, who was at the muzzle with the
rammer, was in consequence the most exposed. However,
we had no luck, for just as Trelawney fired, down he
stooped, the ball whistled over him, and it was one of
the other four who fell.

The cry he gave was echoed not only by his companions
on board but by a great number of voices from the
shore, and looking in that direction I saw the other
pirates trooping out from among the trees and tumbling
into their places in the boats.

"Here come the gigs, sir," said I.

"Give way, then," cried the captain. "We mustn't mind
if we swamp her now. If we can't get ashore, all's up."

"Only one of the gigs is being manned, sir," I added;
"the crew of the other most likely going round by shore
to cut us off."

"They'll have a hot run, sir," returned the captain.
"Jack ashore, you know. It's not them I mind; it's the
round-shot. Carpet bowls! My lady's maid couldn't
miss. Tell us, squire, when you see the match, and
we'll hold water."

In the meanwhile we had been making headway at a good
pace for a boat so overloaded, and we had shipped but
little water in the process. We were now close in;
thirty or forty strokes and we should beach her, for
the ebb had already disclosed a narrow belt of sand
below the clustering trees. The gig was no longer to
be feared; the little point had already concealed it
from our eyes. The ebb-tide, which had so cruelly
delayed us, was now making reparation and delaying our
assailants. The one source of danger was the gun.

"If I durst," said the captain, "I'd stop and pick
off another man."

But it was plain that they meant nothing should delay
their shot. They had never so much as looked at their
fallen comrade, though he was not dead, and I could see
him trying to crawl away.

"Ready!" cried the squire.

"Hold!" cried the captain, quick as an echo.

And he and Redruth backed with a great heave that sent
her stern bodily under water. The report fell in at the
same instant of time. This was the first that Jim heard,
the sound of the squire's shot not having reached him.
Where the ball passed, not one of us precisely knew, but
I fancy it must have been over our heads and that the wind
of it may have contributed to our disaster.

At any rate, the boat sank by the stern, quite gently, in
three feet of water, leaving the captain and myself, facing
each other, on our feet. The other three took complete
headers, and came up again drenched and bubbling.

So far there was no great harm. No lives were lost,
and we could wade ashore in safety. But there were all
our stores at the bottom, and to make things worse,
only two guns out of five remained in a state for
service. Mine I had snatched from my knees and held
over my head, by a sort of instinct. As for the
captain, he had carried his over his shoulder by a
bandoleer, and like a wise man, lock uppermost. The
other three had gone down with the boat.

To add to our concern, we heard voices already drawing
near us in the woods along shore, and we had not only
the danger of being cut off from the stockade in our
half-crippled state but the fear before us whether, if
Hunter and Joyce were attacked by half a dozen, they
would have the sense and conduct to stand firm. Hunter
was steady, that we knew; Joyce was a doubtful case--a
pleasant, polite man for a valet and to brush one's
clothes, but not entirely fitted for a man of war.

With all this in our minds, we waded ashore as fast as
we could, leaving behind us the poor jolly-boat and a
good half of all our powder and provisions.


Narrative Continued by the Doctor: End of the
First Day's Fighting

WE made our best speed across the strip of wood that
now divided us from the stockade, and at every step we
took the voices of the buccaneers rang nearer. Soon we
could hear their footfalls as they ran and the cracking
of the branches as they breasted across a bit of thicket.

I began to see we should have a brush for it in earnest
and looked to my priming.

"Captain," said I, "Trelawney is the dead shot. Give
him your gun; his own is useless."

They exchanged guns, and Trelawney, silent and cool as
he had been since the beginning of the bustle, hung a
moment on his heel to see that all was fit for service.
At the same time, observing Gray to be unarmed, I
handed him my cutlass. It did all our hearts good to
see him spit in his hand, knit his brows, and make the
blade sing through the air. It was plain from every
line of his body that our new hand was worth his salt.

Forty paces farther we came to the edge of the wood and
saw the stockade in front of us. We struck the
enclosure about the middle of the south side, and
almost at the same time, seven mutineers--Job Anderson,
the boatswain, at their head--appeared in full cry at
the southwestern corner.

They paused as if taken aback, and before they recovered,
not only the squire and I, but Hunter and Joyce from the
block house, had time to fire. The four shots came in
rather a scattering volley, but they did the business:
one of the enemy actually fell, and the rest, without
hesitation, turned and plunged into the trees.

After reloading, we walked down the outside of the
palisade to see to the fallen enemy. He was stone
dead--shot through the heart.

We began to rejoice over our good success when just at
that moment a pistol cracked in the bush, a ball
whistled close past my ear, and poor Tom Redruth
stumbled and fell his length on the ground. Both the
squire and I returned the shot, but as we had nothing
to aim at, it is probable we only wasted powder. Then
we reloaded and turned our attention to poor Tom.

The captain and Gray were already examining him, and I
saw with half an eye that all was over.

I believe the readiness of our return volley had
scattered the mutineers once more, for we were suffered
without further molestation to get the poor old
gamekeeper hoisted over the stockade and carried,
groaning and bleeding, into the log-house.

Poor old fellow, he had not uttered one word of surprise,
complaint, fear, or even acquiescence from the very
beginning of our troubles till now, when we had laid him
down in the log-house to die. He had lain like a Trojan
behind his mattress in the gallery; he had followed every
order silently, doggedly, and well; he was the oldest of
our party by a score of years; and now, sullen, old,
serviceable servant, it was he that was to die.

The squire dropped down beside him on his knees and
kissed his hand, crying like a child.

"Be I going, doctor?" he asked.

"Tom, my man," said I, "you're going home."

"I wish I had had a lick at them with the gun first,"
he replied.

"Tom," said the squire, "say you forgive me, won't you?"

"Would that be respectful like, from me to you,
squire?" was the answer. "Howsoever, so be it, amen!"

After a little while of silence, he said he thought
somebody might read a prayer. "It's the custom, sir,"
he added apologetically. And not long after, without
another word, he passed away.

In the meantime the captain, whom I had observed to be
wonderfully swollen about the chest and pockets, had
turned out a great many various stores--the British
colours, a Bible, a coil of stoutish rope, pen, ink,
the log-book, and pounds of tobacco. He had found a
longish fir-tree lying felled and trimmed in the
enclosure, and with the help of Hunter he had set it up
at the corner of the log-house where the trunks crossed
and made an angle. Then, climbing on the roof, he had
with his own hand bent and run up the colours.

This seemed mightily to relieve him. He re-entered the
log-house and set about counting up the stores as if
nothing else existed. But he had an eye on Tom's passage
for all that, and as soon as all was over, came forward
with another flag and reverently spread it on the body.

"Don't you take on, sir," he said, shaking the squire's
hand. "All's well with him; no fear for a hand that's
been shot down in his duty to captain and owner. It
mayn't be good divinity, but it's a fact."

Then he pulled me aside.

"Dr. Livesey," he said, "in how many weeks do you and
squire expect the consort?"

I told him it was a question not of weeks but of
months, that if we were not back by the end of August
Blandly was to send to find us, but neither sooner nor
later. "You can calculate for yourself," I said.

"Why, yes," returned the captain, scratching his head;
"and making a large allowance, sir, for all the gifts
of Providence, I should say we were pretty close hauled."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"It's a pity, sir, we lost that second load. That's
what I mean," replied the captain. "As for powder and
shot, we'll do. But the rations are short, very short--
so short, Dr. Livesey, that we're perhaps as well
without that extra mouth."

And he pointed to the dead body under the flag.

Just then, with a roar and a whistle, a round-shot
passed high above the roof of the log-house and plumped
far beyond us in the wood.

"Oho!" said the captain. "Blaze away! You've little
enough powder already, my lads."

At the second trial, the aim was better, and the ball
descended inside the stockade, scattering a cloud of
sand but doing no further damage.

"Captain," said the squire, "the house is quite
invisible from the ship. It must be the flag they are
aiming at. Would it not be wiser to take it in?"

"Strike my colours!" cried the captain. "No, sir, not I";
and as soon as he had said the words, I think we all agreed
with him. For it was not only a piece of stout, seamanly,
good feeling; it was good policy besides and showed our
enemies that we despised their cannonade.

All through the evening they kept thundering away.
Ball after ball flew over or fell short or kicked up
the sand in the enclosure, but they had to fire so high
that the shot fell dead and buried itself in the soft
sand. We had no ricochet to fear, and though one
popped in through the roof of the log-house and out
again through the floor, we soon got used to that sort
of horse-play and minded it no more than cricket.

"There is one good thing about all this," observed the
captain; "the wood in front of us is likely clear. The
ebb has made a good while; our stores should be
uncovered. Volunteers to go and bring in pork."

Gray and hunter were the first to come forward. Well
armed, they stole out of the stockade, but it proved a
useless mission. The mutineers were bolder than we
fancied or they put more trust in Israel's gunnery.
For four or five of them were busy carrying off our
stores and wading out with them to one of the gigs that
lay close by, pulling an oar or so to hold her steady
against the current. Silver was in the stern-sheets in
command; and every man of them was now provided with a
musket from some secret magazine of their own.

The captain sat down to his log, and here is the
beginning of the entry:

Alexander Smollett, master; David Livesey, ship's
doctor; Abraham Gray, carpenter's mate; John
Trelawney, owner; John Hunter and Richard Joyce,
owner's servants, landsmen--being all that is left
faithful of the ship's company--with stores for ten
days at short rations, came ashore this day and flew
British colours on the log-house in Treasure Island.
Thomas Redruth, owner's servant, landsman, shot by the
mutineers; James Hawkins, cabin-boy--

And at the same time, I was wondering over poor Jim
Hawkins' fate.

A hail on the land side.

"Somebody hailing us," said Hunter, who was on guard.

"Doctor! Squire! Captain! Hullo, Hunter, is that
you?" came the cries.

And I ran to the door in time to see Jim Hawkins, safe
and sound, come climbing over the stockade.


Narrative Resumed by Jim Hawkins: The Garrison
in the Stockade

AS soon as Ben Gunn saw the colours he came to a halt,
stopped me by the arm, and sat down.

"Now," said he, "there's your friends, sure enough."

"Far more likely it's the mutineers," I answered.

"That!" he cried. "Why, in a place like this, where
nobody puts in but gen'lemen of fortune, Silver would
fly the Jolly Roger, you don't make no doubt of that.
No, that's your friends. There's been blows too, and I
reckon your friends has had the best of it; and here
they are ashore in the old stockade, as was made years
and years ago by Flint. Ah, he was the man to have a
headpiece, was Flint! Barring rum, his match were
never seen. He were afraid of none, not he; on'y
Silver--Silver was that genteel."

"Well," said I, "that may be so, and so be it; all the
more reason that I should hurry on and join my friends."

"Nay, mate," returned Ben, "not you. You're a good
boy, or I'm mistook; but you're on'y a boy, all told.
Now, Ben Gunn is fly. Rum wouldn't bring me there,
where you're going--not rum wouldn't, till I see your
born gen'leman and gets it on his word of honour. And
you won't forget my words; 'A precious sight (that's
what you'll say), a precious sight more confidence'--
and then nips him."

And he pinched me the third time with the same air
of cleverness.

"And when Ben Gunn is wanted, you know where to find
him, Jim. Just wheer you found him today. And him
that comes is to have a white thing in his hand, and
he's to come alone. Oh! And you'll say this: 'Ben
Gunn,' says you, 'has reasons of his own.'"

"Well," said I, "I believe I understand. You have
something to propose, and you wish to see the squire or
the doctor, and you're to be found where I found you.
Is that all?"

"And when? says you," he added. "Why, from about noon
observation to about six bells."

"Good," said I, "and now may I go?"

"You won't forget?" he inquired anxiously. "Precious
sight, and reasons of his own, says you. Reasons of
his own; that's the mainstay; as between man and man.
Well, then"--still holding me--"I reckon you can go,
Jim. And, Jim, if you was to see Silver, you wouldn't
go for to sell Ben Gunn? Wild horses wouldn't draw it
from you? No, says you. And if them pirates camp
ashore, Jim, what would you say but there'd be widders
in the morning?"

Here he was interrupted by a loud report, and a
cannonball came tearing through the trees and pitched
in the sand not a hundred yards from where we two were
talking. The next moment each of us had taken to his
heels in a different direction.

For a good hour to come frequent reports shook the
island, and balls kept crashing through the woods. I
moved from hiding-place to hiding-place, always
pursued, or so it seemed to me, by these terrifying
missiles. But towards the end of the bombardment,
though still I durst not venture in the direction of
the stockade, where the balls fell oftenest, I had
begun, in a manner, to pluck up my heart again, and
after a long detour to the east, crept down among the
shore-side trees.

The sun had just set, the sea breeze was rustling and
tumbling in the woods and ruffling the grey surface of
the anchorage; the tide, too, was far out, and great
tracts of sand lay uncovered; the air, after the heat
of the day, chilled me through my jacket.

The HISPANIOLA still lay where she had anchored; but, sure
enough, there was the Jolly Roger--the black flag of piracy
--flying from her peak. Even as I looked, there came another
red flash and another report that sent the echoes clattering,
and one more round-shot whistled through the air. It was the
last of the cannonade.

I lay for some time watching the bustle which succeeded
the attack. Men were demolishing something with axes
on the beach near the stockade--the poor jolly-boat, I
afterwards discovered. Away, near the mouth of the
river, a great fire was glowing among the trees, and
between that point and the ship one of the gigs kept
coming and going, the men, whom I had seen so gloomy,
shouting at the oars like children. But there was a
sound in their voices which suggested rum.

At length I thought I might return towards the
stockade. I was pretty far down on the low, sandy spit
that encloses the anchorage to the east, and is joined
at half-water to Skeleton Island; and now, as I rose to
my feet, I saw, some distance further down the spit and
rising from among low bushes, an isolated rock, pretty
high, and peculiarly white in colour. It occurred to
me that this might be the white rock of which Ben Gunn
had spoken and that some day or other a boat might be
wanted and I should know where to look for one.

Then I skirted among the woods until I had regained the
rear, or shoreward side, of the stockade, and was soon
warmly welcomed by the faithful party.

I had soon told my story and began to look about me.
The log-house was made of unsquared trunks of pine--
roof, walls, and floor. The latter stood in several
places as much as a foot or a foot and a half above the
surface of the sand. There was a porch at the door,
and under this porch the little spring welled up into
an artificial basin of a rather odd kind--no other than
a great ship's kettle of iron, with the bottom knocked
out, and sunk "to her bearings," as the captain said,
among the sand.

Little had been left besides the framework of the
house, but in one corner there was a stone slab laid
down by way of hearth and an old rusty iron basket to
contain the fire.

The slopes of the knoll and all the inside of the
stockade had been cleared of timber to build the house,
and we could see by the stumps what a fine and lofty
grove had been destroyed. Most of the soil had been
washed away or buried in drift after the removal of the
trees; only where the streamlet ran down from the
kettle a thick bed of moss and some ferns and little
creeping bushes were still green among the sand. Very
close around the stockade--too close for defence, they
said--the wood still flourished high and dense, all of
fir on the land side, but towards the sea with a large
admixture of live-oaks.

The cold evening breeze, of which I have spoken,
whistled through every chink of the rude building and
sprinkled the floor with a continual rain of fine sand.
There was sand in our eyes, sand in our teeth, sand in
our suppers, sand dancing in the spring at the bottom
of the kettle, for all the world like porridge
beginning to boil. Our chimney was a square hole in
the roof; it was but a little part of the smoke that
found its way out, and the rest eddied about the house
and kept us coughing and piping the eye.

Add to this that Gray, the new man, had his face tied
up in a bandage for a cut he had got in breaking away
from the mutineers and that poor old Tom Redruth, still
unburied, lay along the wall, stiff and stark, under
the Union Jack.

If we had been allowed to sit idle, we should all have
fallen in the blues, but Captain Smollett was never the
man for that. All hands were called up before him, and
he divided us into watches. The doctor and Gray and I
for one; the squire, Hunter, and Joyce upon the other.
Tired though we all were, two were sent out for
firewood; two more were set to dig a grave for Redruth;
the doctor was named cook; I was put sentry at the door;
and the captain himself went from one to another, keeping
up our spirits and lending a hand wherever it was wanted.

From time to time the doctor came to the door for a little
air and to rest his eyes, which were almost smoked out of
his head, and whenever he did so, he had a word for me.

"That man Smollett," he said once, "is a better man
than I am. And when I say that it means a deal, Jim."

Another time he came and was silent for a while. Then
he put his head on one side, and looked at me.

"Is this Ben Gunn a man?" he asked.

"I do not know, sir," said I. "I am not very sure
whether he's sane."

"If there's any doubt about the matter, he is," returned
the doctor. "A man who has been three years biting his
nails on a desert island, Jim, can't expect to appear as
sane as you or me. It doesn't lie in human nature. Was
it cheese you said he had a fancy for?"

"Yes, sir, cheese," I answered.

"Well, Jim," says he, "just see the good that comes of
being dainty in your food. You've seen my snuff-box,
haven't you? And you never saw me take snuff, the
reason being that in my snuff-box I carry a piece of
Parmesan cheese--a cheese made in Italy, very
nutritious. Well, that's for Ben Gunn!"

Before supper was eaten we buried old Tom in the sand
and stood round him for a while bare-headed in the
breeze. A good deal of firewood had been got in, but
not enough for the captain's fancy, and he shook his
head over it and told us we "must get back to this
tomorrow rather livelier." Then, when we had eaten our
pork and each had a good stiff glass of brandy grog,
the three chiefs got together in a corner to discuss
our prospects.

It appears they were at their wits' end what to do, the
stores being so low that we must have been starved into
surrender long before help came. But our best hope, it
was decided, was to kill off the buccaneers until they
either hauled down their flag or ran away with the
HISPANIOLA. From nineteen they were already reduced
to fifteen, two others were wounded, and one at least--
the man shot beside the gun--severely wounded, if he
were not dead. Every time we had a crack at them, we
were to take it, saving our own lives, with the
extremest care. And besides that, we had two able
allies--rum and the climate.

As for the first, though we were about half a mile
away, we could hear them roaring and singing late into
the night; and as for the second, the doctor staked his
wig that, camped where they were in the marsh and
unprovided with remedies, the half of them would be on
their backs before a week.

"So," he added, "if we are not all shot down first they'll
be glad to be packing in the schooner. It's always a ship,
and they can get to buccaneering again, I suppose."

"First ship that ever I lost," said Captain Smollett.

I was dead tired, as you may fancy; and when I got to
sleep, which was not till after a great deal of
tossing, I slept like a log of wood.

The rest had long been up and had already breakfasted and
increased the pile of firewood by about half as much again
when I was wakened by a bustle and the sound of voices.

"Flag of truce!" I heard someone say; and then, immediately
after, with a cry of surprise, "Silver himself!"

And at that, up I jumped, and rubbing my eyes, ran to a
loophole in the wall.


Silver's Embassy

SURE enough, there were two men just outside the stockade,
one of them waving a white cloth, the other, no less a
person than Silver himself, standing placidly by.

It was still quite early, and the coldest morning that
I think I ever was abroad in--a chill that pierced into
the marrow. The sky was bright and cloudless overhead,
and the tops of the trees shone rosily in the sun. But
where Silver stood with his lieutenant, all was still
in shadow, and they waded knee-deep in a low white
vapour that had crawled during the night out of the
morass. The chill and the vapour taken together told a
poor tale of the island. It was plainly a damp,
feverish, unhealthy spot.

"Keep indoors, men," said the captain. "Ten to one
this is a trick."

Then he hailed the buccaneer.

"Who goes? Stand, or we fire."

"Flag of truce," cried Silver.

The captain was in the porch, keeping himself carefully
out of the way of a treacherous shot, should any be
intended. He turned and spoke to us, "Doctor's watch
on the lookout. Dr. Livesey take the north side, if
you please; Jim, the east; Gray, west. The watch below,
all hands to load muskets. Lively, men, and careful."

And then he turned again to the mutineers.

"And what do you want with your flag of truce?" he cried.

This time it was the other man who replied.

"Cap'n Silver, sir, to come on board and make terms,"
he shouted.

"Cap'n Silver! Don't know him. Who's he?" cried the
captain. And we could hear him adding to himself,
"Cap'n, is it? My heart, and here's promotion!"

Long John answered for himself. "Me, sir. These poor
lads have chosen me cap'n, after your desertion, sir"--
laying a particular emphasis upon the word "desertion."
"We're willing to submit, if we can come to terms, and
no bones about it. All I ask is your word, Cap'n
Smollett, to let me safe and sound out of this here
stockade, and one minute to get out o' shot before a
gun is fired."

"My man," said Captain Smollett, "I have not the slightest
desire to talk to you. If you wish to talk to me, you can
come, that's all. If there's any treachery, it'll be on
your side, and the Lord help you."

"That's enough, cap'n," shouted Long John cheerily. "A
word from you's enough. I know a gentleman, and you
may lay to that."

We could see the man who carried the flag of truce
attempting to hold Silver back. Nor was that
wonderful, seeing how cavalier had been the captain's
answer. But Silver laughed at him aloud and slapped
him on the back as if the idea of alarm had been
absurd. Then he advanced to the stockade, threw over
his crutch, got a leg up, and with great vigour and
skill succeeded in surmounting the fence and dropping
safely to the other side.

I will confess that I was far too much taken up with
what was going on to be of the slightest use as sentry;
indeed, I had already deserted my eastern loophole and
crept up behind the captain, who had now seated himself
on the threshold, with his elbows on his knees, his
head in his hands, and his eyes fixed on the water as
it bubbled out of the old iron kettle in the sand. He
was whistling "Come, Lasses and Lads."

Silver had terrible hard work getting up the knoll.
What with the steepness of the incline, the thick tree
stumps, and the soft sand, he and his crutch were as
helpless as a ship in stays. But he stuck to it like a
man in silence, and at last arrived before the captain,
whom he saluted in the handsomest style. He was
tricked out in his best; an immense blue coat, thick
with brass buttons, hung as low as to his knees, and a
fine laced hat was set on the back of his head.

"Here you are, my man," said the captain, raising his
head. "You had better sit down."

"You ain't a-going to let me inside, cap'n?" complained
Long John. "It's a main cold morning, to be sure, sir,
to sit outside upon the sand."

"Why, Silver," said the captain, "if you had pleased to
be an honest man, you might have been sitting in your
galley. It's your own doing. You're either my ship's
cook--and then you were treated handsome--or Cap'n Silver,
a common mutineer and pirate, and then you can go hang!"

"Well, well, cap'n," returned the sea-cook, sitting
down as he was bidden on the sand, "you'll have to give
me a hand up again, that's all. A sweet pretty place
you have of it here. Ah, there's Jim! The top of the
morning to you, Jim. Doctor, here's my service. Why,
there you all are together like a happy family, in a
manner of speaking."

"If you have anything to say, my man, better say it,"
said the captain.

"Right you were, Cap'n Smollett," replied Silver.
"Dooty is dooty, to be sure. Well now, you look here,
that was a good lay of yours last night. I don't deny
it was a good lay. Some of you pretty handy with a
handspike-end. And I'll not deny neither but what some
of my people was shook--maybe all was shook; maybe I
was shook myself; maybe that's why I'm here for terms.
But you mark me, cap'n, it won't do twice, by thunder!
We'll have to do sentry-go and ease off a point or so
on the rum. Maybe you think we were all a sheet in the
wind's eye. But I'll tell you I was sober; I was on'y
dog tired; and if I'd awoke a second sooner, I'd 'a
caught you at the act, I would. He wasn't dead when I
got round to him, not he."

"Well?" says Captain Smollett as cool as can be.

All that Silver said was a riddle to him, but you would
never have guessed it from his tone. As for me, I
began to have an inkling. Ben Gunn's last words came
back to my mind. I began to suppose that he had paid
the buccaneers a visit while they all lay drunk
together round their fire, and I reckoned up with glee
that we had only fourteen enemies to deal with.

"Well, here it is," said Silver. "We want that
treasure, and we'll have it--that's our point! You
would just as soon save your lives, I reckon; and
that's yours. You have a chart, haven't you?"

"That's as may be," replied the captain.

"Oh, well, you have, I know that," returned Long John.
"You needn't be so husky with a man; there ain't a
particle of service in that, and you may lay to it.
What I mean is, we want your chart. Now, I never meant
you no harm, myself."

"That won't do with me, my man," interrupted the
captain. "We know exactly what you meant to do, and we
don't care, for now, you see, you can't do it."

And the captain looked at him calmly and proceeded
to fill a pipe.

"If Abe Gray--" Silver broke out.

"Avast there!" cried Mr. Smollett. "Gray told me
nothing, and I asked him nothing; and what's more, I
would see you and him and this whole island blown clean
out of the water into blazes first. So there's my mind
for you, my man, on that."

This little whiff of temper seemed to cool Silver down.
He had been growing nettled before, but now he pulled
himself together.

"Like enough," said he. "I would set no limits to what
gentlemen might consider shipshape, or might not, as
the case were. And seein' as how you are about to take
a pipe, cap'n, I'll make so free as do likewise."

And he filled a pipe and lighted it; and the two men sat
silently smoking for quite a while, now looking each other
in the face, now stopping their tobacco, now leaning forward
to spit. It was as good as the play to see them.

"Now," resumed Silver, "here it is. You give us the
chart to get the treasure by, and drop shooting poor
seamen and stoving of their heads in while asleep. You
do that, and we'll offer you a choice. Either you come
aboard along of us, once the treasure shipped, and then
I'll give you my affy-davy, upon my word of honour, to
clap you somewhere safe ashore. Or if that ain't to
your fancy, some of my hands being rough and having old
scores on account of hazing, then you can stay here,
you can. We'll divide stores with you, man for man;
and I'll give my affy-davy, as before to speak the
first ship I sight, and send 'em here to pick you up.
Now, you'll own that's talking. Handsomer you couldn't
look to get, now you. And I hope"--raising his voice--
"that all hands in this here block house will overhaul
my words, for what is spoke to one is spoke to all."

Captain Smollett rose from his seat and knocked out the
ashes of his pipe in the palm of his left hand.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Every last word, by thunder!" answered John. "Refuse
that, and you've seen the last of me but musket-balls."

"Very good," said the captain. "Now you'll hear me.
If you'll come up one by one, unarmed, I'll engage to
clap you all in irons and take you home to a fair trial
in England. If you won't, my name is Alexander
Smollett, I've flown my sovereign's colours, and I'll
see you all to Davy Jones. You can't find the
treasure. You can't sail the ship--there's not a man
among you fit to sail the ship. You can't fight us--
Gray, there, got away from five of you. Your ship's in
irons, Master Silver; you're on a lee shore, and so
you'll find. I stand here and tell you so; and they're
the last good words you'll get from me, for in the name
of heaven, I'll put a bullet in your back when next I
meet you. Tramp, my lad. Bundle out of this, please,
hand over hand, and double quick."

Silver's face was a picture; his eyes started in his
head with wrath. He shook the fire out of his pipe.

"Give me a hand up!" he cried.

"Not I," returned the captain.

"Who'll give me a hand up?" he roared.

Not a man among us moved. Growling the foulest
imprecations, he crawled along the sand till he got
hold of the porch and could hoist himself again upon
his crutch. Then he spat into the spring.

"There!" he cried. "That's what I think of ye. Before
an hour's out, I'll stove in your old block house like
a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an
hour's out, ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that
die'll be the lucky ones."

And with a dreadful oath he stumbled off, ploughed down
the sand, was helped across the stockade, after four or
five failures, by the man with the flag of truce, and
disappeared in an instant afterwards among the trees.


The Attack

AS soon as Silver disappeared, the captain, who had
been closely watching him, turned towards the interior
of the house and found not a man of us at his post but
Gray. It was the first time we had ever seen him angry.

"Quarters!" he roared. And then, as we all slunk back
to our places, "Gray," he said, "I'll put your name in
the log; you've stood by your duty like a seaman. Mr.
Trelawney, I'm surprised at you, sir. Doctor, I thought
you had worn the king's coat! If that was how you served
at Fontenoy, sir, you'd have been better in your berth."

The doctor's watch were all back at their loopholes,
the rest were busy loading the spare muskets, and
everyone with a red face, you may be certain, and a
flea in his ear, as the saying is.

The captain looked on for a while in silence. Then
he spoke.

"My lads," said he, "I've given Silver a broadside. I
pitched it in red-hot on purpose; and before the hour's
out, as he said, we shall be boarded. We're
outnumbered, I needn't tell you that, but we fight in
shelter; and a minute ago I should have said we fought
with discipline. I've no manner of doubt that we can
drub them, if you choose."

Then he went the rounds and saw, as he said, that all
was clear.

On the two short sides of the house, east and west,
there were only two loopholes; on the south side where
the porch was, two again; and on the north side, five.
There was a round score of muskets for the seven of us;
the firewood had been built into four piles--tables,
you might say--one about the middle of each side, and
on each of these tables some ammunition and four loaded
muskets were laid ready to the hand of the defenders.
In the middle, the cutlasses lay ranged.

"Toss out the fire," said the captain; "the chill is
past, and we mustn't have smoke in our eyes."

The iron fire-basket was carried bodily out by Mr.
Trelawney, and the embers smothered among sand.

"Hawkins hasn't had his breakfast. Hawkins, help
yourself, and back to your post to eat it," continued
Captain Smollett. "Lively, now, my lad; you'll want it
before you've done. Hunter, serve out a round of
brandy to all hands."

And while this was going on, the captain completed, in
his own mind, the plan of the defence.

"Doctor, you will take the door," he resumed. "See,
and don't expose yourself; keep within, and fire
through the porch. Hunter, take the east side, there.
Joyce, you stand by the west, my man. Mr. Trelawney,
you are the best shot--you and Gray will take this long
north side, with the five loopholes; it's there the
danger is. If they can get up to it and fire in upon
us through our own ports, things would begin to look
dirty. Hawkins, neither you nor I are much account at
the shooting; we'll stand by to load and bear a hand."

As the captain had said, the chill was past. As soon as
the sun had climbed above our girdle of trees, it fell
with all its force upon the clearing and drank up the
vapours at a draught. Soon the sand was baking and the
resin melting in the logs of the block house. Jackets
and coats were flung aside, shirts thrown open at the
neck and rolled up to the shoulders; and we stood there,
each at his post, in a fever of heat and anxiety.

An hour passed away.

"Hang them!" said the captain. "This is as dull as the
doldrums. Gray, whistle for a wind."

And just at that moment came the first news of the attack.

"If you please, sir," said Joyce, "if I see anyone, am
I to fire?"

"I told you so!" cried the captain.

"Thank you, sir," returned Joyce with the same quiet civility.

Nothing followed for a time, but the remark had set us
all on the alert, straining ears and eyes--the
musketeers with their pieces balanced in their hands,
the captain out in the middle of the block house with
his mouth very tight and a frown on his face.

So some seconds passed, till suddenly Joyce whipped up
his musket and fired. The report had scarcely died
away ere it was repeated and repeated from without in a
scattering volley, shot behind shot, like a string of
geese, from every side of the enclosure. Several
bullets struck the log-house, but not one entered; and
as the smoke cleared away and vanished, the stockade
and the woods around it looked as quiet and empty as
before. Not a bough waved, not the gleam of a musket-
barrel betrayed the presence of our foes.

"Did you hit your man?" asked the captain.

"No, sir," replied Joyce. "I believe not, sir."

"Next best thing to tell the truth," muttered Captain
Smollett. "Load his gun, Hawkins. How many should say
there were on your side, doctor?"

"I know precisely," said Dr. Livesey. "Three shots
were fired on this side. I saw the three flashes--two
close together--one farther to the west."

"Three!" repeated the captain. "And how many on yours,
Mr. Trelawney?"

But this was not so easily answered. There had come
many from the north--seven by the squire's computation,
eight or nine according to Gray. From the east and
west only a single shot had been fired. It was plain,
therefore, that the attack would be developed from the
north and that on the other three sides we were only to
be annoyed by a show of hostilities. But Captain
Smollett made no change in his arrangements. If the
mutineers succeeded in crossing the stockade, he argued,
they would take possession of any unprotected loophole
and shoot us down like rats in our own stronghold.

Nor had we much time left to us for thought. Suddenly,
with a loud huzza, a little cloud of pirates leaped from
the woods on the north side and ran straight on the stockade.
At the same moment, the fire was once more opened from the
woods, and a rifle ball sang through the doorway and knocked
the doctor's musket into bits.

The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys.
Squire and Gray fired again and yet again; three men
fell, one forwards into the enclosure, two back on the
outside. But of these, one was evidently more
frightened than hurt, for he was on his feet again in a
crack and instantly disappeared among the trees.

Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had made good
their footing inside our defences, while from the
shelter of the woods seven or eight men, each evidently
supplied with several muskets, kept up a hot though
useless fire on the log-house.

The four who had boarded made straight before them for
the building, shouting as they ran, and the men among
the trees shouted back to encourage them. Several shots
were fired, but such was the hurry of the marksmen that
not one appears to have taken effect. In a moment, the
four pirates had swarmed up the mound and were upon us.

The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared at
the middle loophole.

"At 'em, all hands--all hands!" he roared in a voice
of thunder.

At the same moment, another pirate grasped Hunter's
musket by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands,
plucked it through the loophole, and with one stunning
blow, laid the poor fellow senseless on the floor.
Meanwhile a third, running unharmed all around the
house, appeared suddenly in the doorway and fell with
his cutlass on the doctor.

Our position was utterly reversed. A moment since we
were firing, under cover, at an exposed enemy; now it
was we who lay uncovered and could not return a blow.

The log-house was full of smoke, to which we owed our
comparative safety. Cries and confusion, the flashes
and reports of pistol-shots, and one loud groan rang
in my ears.

"Out, lads, out, and fight 'em in the open!
Cutlasses!" cried the captain.

I snatched a cutlass from the pile, and someone, at the
same time snatching another, gave me a cut across the
knuckles which I hardly felt. I dashed out of the door
into the clear sunlight. Someone was close behind, I
knew not whom. Right in front, the doctor was pursuing
his assailant down the hill, and just as my eyes fell
upon him, beat down his guard and sent him sprawling on
his back with a great slash across the face.

"Round the house, lads! Round the house!" cried the
captain; and even in the hurly-burly, I perceived a
change in his voice.

Mechanically, I obeyed, turned eastwards, and with my
cutlass raised, ran round the corner of the house.
Next moment I was face to face with Anderson. He
roared aloud, and his hanger went up above his head,
flashing in the sunlight. I had not time to be afraid,
but as the blow still hung impending, leaped in a trice
upon one side, and missing my foot in the soft sand,
rolled headlong down the slope.

When I had first sallied from the door, the other
mutineers had been already swarming up the palisade to
make an end of us. One man, in a red night-cap, with
his cutlass in his mouth, had even got upon the top and
thrown a leg across. Well, so short had been the
interval that when I found my feet again all was in the
same posture, the fellow with the red night-cap still
half-way over, another still just showing his head
above the top of the stockade. And yet, in this breath
of time, the fight was over and the victory was ours.

Gray, following close behind me, had cut down the big
boatswain ere he had time to recover from his last
blow. Another had been shot at a loophole in the very
act of firing into the house and now lay in agony, the
pistol still smoking in his hand. A third, as I had
seen, the doctor had disposed of at a blow. Of the
four who had scaled the palisade, one only remained
unaccounted for, and he, having left his cutlass on the
field, was now clambering out again with the fear of
death upon him.

"Fire--fire from the house!" cried the doctor. "And
you, lads, back into cover."

But his words were unheeded, no shot was fired, and the
last boarder made good his escape and disappeared with
the rest into the wood. In three seconds nothing
remained of the attacking party but the five who had
fallen, four on the inside and one on the outside of
the palisade.

The doctor and Gray and I ran full speed for shelter.
The survivors would soon be back where they had left
their muskets, and at any moment the fire might recommence.

The house was by this time somewhat cleared of smoke,
and we saw at a glance the price we had paid for
victory. Hunter lay beside his loophole, stunned;
Joyce by his, shot through the head, never to move
again; while right in the centre, the squire was
supporting the captain, one as pale as the other.

"The captain's wounded," said Mr. Trelawney.

"Have they run?" asked Mr. Smollett.

"All that could, you may be bound," returned the doctor;
"but there's five of them will never run again."

"Five!" cried the captain. "Come, that's better. Five
against three leaves us four to nine. That's better
odds than we had at starting. We were seven to nineteen
then, or thought we were, and that's as bad to bear."*

*The mutineers were soon only eight in number, for the
man shot by Mr. Trelawney on board the schooner died
that same evening of his wound. But this was, of
course, not known till after by the faithful party.


My Sea Adventure


How My Sea Adventure Began

THERE was no return of the mutineers--not so much as
another shot out of the woods. They had "got their
rations for that day," as the captain put it, and we
had the place to ourselves and a quiet time to overhaul
the wounded and get dinner. Squire and I cooked
outside in spite of the danger, and even outside we
could hardly tell what we were at, for horror of the
loud groans that reached us from the doctor's patients.

Out of the eight men who had fallen in the action, only
three still breathed--that one of the pirates who had
been shot at the loophole, Hunter, and Captain
Smollett; and of these, the first two were as good as
dead; the mutineer indeed died under the doctor's
knife, and Hunter, do what we could, never recovered
consciousness in this world. He lingered all day,
breathing loudly like the old buccaneer at home in his
apoplectic fit, but the bones of his chest had been
crushed by the blow and his skull fractured in falling,
and some time in the following night, without sign or
sound, he went to his Maker.

As for the captain, his wounds were grievous indeed,
but not dangerous. No organ was fatally injured.
Anderson's ball--for it was Job that shot him first--
had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, not
badly; the second had only torn and displaced some
muscles in the calf. He was sure to recover, the
doctor said, but in the meantime, and for weeks to
come, he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much as
speak when he could help it.

My own accidental cut across the knuckles was a flea-
bite. Doctor Livesey patched it up with plaster and
pulled my ears for me into the bargain.

After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the
captain's side awhile in consultation; and when they
had talked to their hearts' content, it being then a
little past noon, the doctor took up his hat and pistols,
girt on a cutlass, put the chart in his pocket, and with
a musket over his shoulder crossed the palisade on the
north side and set off briskly through the trees.

Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the
block house, to be out of earshot of our officers
consulting; and Gray took his pipe out of his mouth and
fairly forgot to put it back again, so thunder-struck
he was at this occurrence.

"Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Dr.
Livesey mad?"

"Why no," says I. "He's about the last of this crew
for that, I take it."

"Well, shipmate," said Gray, "mad he may not be; but if
HE'S not, you mark my words, I am."

"I take it," replied I, "the doctor has his idea; and
if I am right, he's going now to see Ben Gunn."

I was right, as appeared later; but in the meantime,
the house being stifling hot and the little patch of
sand inside the palisade ablaze with midday sun, I
began to get another thought into my head, which was
not by any means so right. What I began to do was to
envy the doctor walking in the cool shadow of the woods
with the birds about him and the pleasant smell of the
pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to
the hot resin, and so much blood about me and so many
poor dead bodies lying all around that I took a disgust
of the place that was almost as strong as fear.

All the time I was washing out the block house, and
then washing up the things from dinner, this disgust
and envy kept growing stronger and stronger, till at
last, being near a bread-bag, and no one then observing
me, I took the first step towards my escapade and
filled both pockets of my coat with biscuit.

I was a fool, if you like, and certainly I was going to
do a foolish, over-bold act; but I was determined to do
it with all the precautions in my power. These
biscuits, should anything befall me, would keep me, at
least, from starving till far on in the next day.

The next thing I laid hold of was a brace of pistols,
and as I already had a powder-horn and bullets, I felt
myself well supplied with arms.

As for the scheme I had in my head, it was not a bad
one in itself. I was to go down the sandy spit that
divides the anchorage on the east from the open sea,
find the white rock I had observed last evening, and
ascertain whether it was there or not that Ben Gunn had
hidden his boat, a thing quite worth doing, as I still
believe. But as I was certain I should not be allowed
to leave the enclosure, my only plan was to take French
leave and slip out when nobody was watching, and that
was so bad a way of doing it as made the thing itself
wrong. But I was only a boy, and I had made my mind up.

Well, as things at last fell out, I found an admirable
opportunity. The squire and Gray were busy helping the
captain with his bandages, the coast was clear, I made
a bolt for it over the stockade and into the thickest
of the trees, and before my absence was observed I was
out of cry of my companions.

This was my second folly, far worse than the first, as
I left but two sound men to guard the house; but like
the first, it was a help towards saving all of us.

I took my way straight for the east coast of the
island, for I was determined to go down the sea side of
the spit to avoid all chance of observation from the
anchorage. It was already late in the afternoon,
although still warm and sunny. As I continued to
thread the tall woods, I could hear from far before me
not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a
certain tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs which
showed me the sea breeze had set in higher than usual.
Soon cool draughts of air began to reach me, and a few
steps farther I came forth into the open borders of the
grove, and saw the sea lying blue and sunny to the
horizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam
along the beach.

I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure Island.
The sun might blaze overhead, the air be without a
breath, the surface smooth and blue, but still these
great rollers would be running along all the external
coast, thundering and thundering by day and night; and
I scarce believe there is one spot in the island where
a man would be out of earshot of their noise.

I walked along beside the surf with great enjoyment,
till, thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I
took the cover of some thick bushes and crept warily up
to the ridge of the spit.

Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage. The sea
breeze, as though it had the sooner blown itself out by
its unusual violence, was already at an end; it had
been succeeded by light, variable airs from the south and
south-east, carrying great banks of fog; and the anchorage,
under lee of Skeleton Island, lay still and leaden as when
first we entered it. The HISPANIOLA, in that unbroken
mirror, was exactly portrayed from the truck to the
waterline, the Jolly Roger hanging from her peak.

Alongside lay one of the gigs, Silver in the stern-
sheets--him I could always recognize--while a couple of
men were leaning over the stern bulwarks, one of them
with a red cap--the very rogue that I had seen some
hours before stride-legs upon the palisade. Apparently
they were talking and laughing, though at that
distance--upwards of a mile--I could, of course, hear
no word of what was said. All at once there began the
most horrid, unearthly screaming, which at first
startled me badly, though I had soon remembered the
voice of Captain Flint and even thought I could make
out the bird by her bright plumage as she sat perched
upon her master's wrist.

Soon after, the jolly-boat shoved off and pulled for
shore, and the man with the red cap and his comrade
went below by the cabin companion.

Just about the same time, the sun had gone down behind
the Spy-glass, and as the fog was collecting rapidly,
it began to grow dark in earnest. I saw I must lose no
time if I were to find the boat that evening.

The white rock, visible enough above the brush, was
still some eighth of a mile further down the spit, and
it took me a goodish while to get up with it, crawling,
often on all fours, among the scrub. Night had almost
come when I laid my hand on its rough sides. Right
below it there was an exceedingly small hollow of green
turf, hidden by banks and a thick underwood about knee-
deep, that grew there very plentifully; and in the centre
of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat- skins,
like what the gipsies carry about with them in England.

I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent,
and there was Ben Gunn's boat--home-made if ever
anything was home-made; a rude, lop-sided framework of
tough wood, and stretched upon that a covering of goat-
skin, with the hair inside. The thing was extremely
small, even for me, and I can hardly imagine that it
could have floated with a full-sized man. There was
one thwart set as low as possible, a kind of stretcher
in the bows, and a double paddle for propulsion.

I had not then seen a coracle, such as the ancient Britons
made, but I have seen one since, and I can give you no
fairer idea of Ben Gunn's boat than by saying it was like
the first and the worst coracle ever made by man. But the
great advantage of the coracle it certainly possessed, for
it was exceedingly light and portable.

Well, now that I had found the boat, you would have
thought I had had enough of truantry for once, but in
the meantime I had taken another notion and become so
obstinately fond of it that I would have carried it
out, I believe, in the teeth of Captain Smollett
himself. This was to slip out under cover of the
night, cut the HISPANIOLA adrift, and let her go
ashore where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind
that the mutineers, after their repulse of the morning,
had nothing nearer their hearts than to up anchor and
away to sea; this, I thought, it would be a fine thing
to prevent, and now that I had seen how they left their
watchmen unprovided with a boat, I thought it might be
done with little risk.

Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made a hearty meal
of biscuit. It was a night out of ten thousand for my
purpose. The fog had now buried all heaven. As the
last rays of daylight dwindled and disappeared, absolute
blackness settled down on Treasure Island. And when,
at last, I shouldered the coracle and groped my way
stumblingly out of the hollow where I had supped, there
were but two points visible on the whole anchorage.

One was the great fire on shore, by which the defeated
pirates lay carousing in the swamp. The other, a mere
blur of light upon the darkness, indicated the position
of the anchored ship. She had swung round to the ebb--
her bow was now towards me--the only lights on board
were in the cabin, and what I saw was merely a
reflection on the fog of the strong rays that flowed
from the stern window.

The ebb had already run some time, and I had to wade
through a long belt of swampy sand, where I sank
several times above the ankle, before I came to the
edge of the retreating water, and wading a little way
in, with some strength and dexterity, set my coracle,
keel downwards, on the surface.


The Ebb-tide Runs

THE coracle--as I had ample reason to know before I was
done with her--was a very safe boat for a person of my
height and weight, both buoyant and clever in a sea-
way; but she was the most cross-grained, lop-sided
craft to manage. Do as you pleased, she always made
more leeway than anything else, and turning round and
round was the manoeuvre she was best at. Even Ben Gunn
himself has admitted that she was "queer to handle till
you knew her way."

Certainly I did not know her way. She turned in every
direction but the one I was bound to go; the most part
of the time we were broadside on, and I am very sure I
never should have made the ship at all but for the
tide. By good fortune, paddle as I pleased, the tide
was still sweeping me down; and there lay the
HISPANIOLA right in the fairway, hardly to be missed.

First she loomed before me like a blot of something yet
blacker than darkness, then her spars and hull began to
take shape, and the next moment, as it seemed (for, the
farther I went, the brisker grew the current of the
ebb), I was alongside of her hawser and had laid hold.

The hawser was as taut as a bowstring, and the current
so strong she pulled upon her anchor. All round the
hull, in the blackness, the rippling current bubbled
and chattered like a little mountain stream. One cut
with my sea-gully and the HISPANIOLA would go
humming down the tide.

So far so good, but it next occurred to my recollection
that a taut hawser, suddenly cut, is a thing as dangerous
as a kicking horse. Ten to one, if I were so foolhardy
as to cut the HISPANIOLA from her anchor, I and the coracle
would be knocked clean out of the water.

This brought me to a full stop, and if fortune had not
again particularly favoured me, I should have had to
abandon my design. But the light airs which had begun
blowing from the south-east and south had hauled round
after nightfall into the south-west. Just while I was
meditating, a puff came, caught the HISPANIOLA, and
forced her up into the current; and to my great joy, I
felt the hawser slacken in my grasp, and the hand by
which I held it dip for a second under water.

With that I made my mind up, took out my gully, opened
it with my teeth, and cut one strand after another,
till the vessel swung only by two. Then I lay quiet,
waiting to sever these last when the strain should be
once more lightened by a breath of wind.

All this time I had heard the sound of loud voices from
the cabin, but to say truth, my mind had been so
entirely taken up with other thoughts that I had
scarcely given ear. Now, however, when I had nothing
else to do, I began to pay more heed.

One I recognized for the coxswain's, Israel Hands, that
had been Flint's gunner in former days. The other was,
of course, my friend of the red night-cap. Both men
were plainly the worse of drink, and they were still
drinking, for even while I was listening, one of them,
with a drunken cry, opened the stern window and threw
out something, which I divined to be an empty bottle.
But they were not only tipsy; it was plain that they
were furiously angry. Oaths flew like hailstones, and
every now and then there came forth such an explosion
as I thought was sure to end in blows. But each time
the quarrel passed off and the voices grumbled lower
for a while, until the next crisis came and in its turn
passed away without result.

On shore, I could see the glow of the great camp-fire
burning warmly through the shore-side trees. Someone
was singing, a dull, old, droning sailor's song, with a
droop and a quaver at the end of every verse, and
seemingly no end to it at all but the patience of the
singer. I had heard it on the voyage more than once
and remembered these words:

"But one man of her crew alive,
What put to sea with seventy-five."

And I thought it was a ditty rather too dolefully
appropriate for a company that had met such cruel
losses in the morning. But, indeed, from what I saw,
all these buccaneers were as callous as the sea they
sailed on.

At last the breeze came; the schooner sidled and drew
nearer in the dark; I felt the hawser slacken once
more, and with a good, tough effort, cut the last
fibres through.

The breeze had but little action on the coracle, and I
was almost instantly swept against the bows of the
HISPANIOLA. At the same time, the schooner began to
turn upon her heel, spinning slowly, end for end,
across the current.

I wrought like a fiend, for I expected every moment to
be swamped; and since I found I could not push the
coracle directly off, I now shoved straight astern. At
length I was clear of my dangerous neighbour, and just
as I gave the last impulsion, my hands came across a
light cord that was trailing overboard across the stern
bulwarks. Instantly I grasped it.

Why I should have done so I can hardly say. It was at
first mere instinct, but once I had it in my hands and
found it fast, curiosity began to get the upper hand,
and I determined I should have one look through the
cabin window.

I pulled in hand over hand on the cord, and when I
judged myself near enough, rose at infinite risk to
about half my height and thus commanded the roof and a
slice of the interior of the cabin.

By this time the schooner and her little consort were
gliding pretty swiftly through the water; indeed, we had
already fetched up level with the camp-fire. The ship was
talking, as sailors say, loudly, treading the innumerable
ripples with an incessant weltering splash; and until I got
my eye above the window-sill I could not comprehend why the
watchmen had taken no alarm. One glance, however, was sufficient;
and it was only one glance that I durst take from that unsteady
skiff. It showed me Hands and his companion locked together in
deadly wrestle, each with a hand upon the other's throat.

I dropped upon the thwart again, none too soon, for I
was near overboard. I could see nothing for the moment
but these two furious, encrimsoned faces swaying
together under the smoky lamp, and I shut my eyes to
let them grow once more familiar with the darkness.

The endless ballad had come to an end at last, and the
whole diminished company about the camp-fire had broken
into the chorus I had heard so often:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest--
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest--
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

I was just thinking how busy drink and the devil were
at that very moment in the cabin of the HISPANIOLA,
when I was surprised by a sudden lurch of the coracle.
At the same moment, she yawed sharply and seemed to
change her course. The speed in the meantime had
strangely increased.

I opened my eyes at once. All round me were little
ripples, combing over with a sharp, bristling sound and
slightly phosphorescent. The HISPANIOLA herself, a
few yards in whose wake I was still being whirled
along, seemed to stagger in her course, and I saw her
spars toss a little against the blackness of the night;
nay, as I looked longer, I made sure she also was
wheeling to the southward.

I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart jumped against
my ribs. There, right behind me, was the glow of the
camp-fire. The current had turned at right angles,
sweeping round along with it the tall schooner and the
little dancing coracle; ever quickening, ever bubbling
higher, ever muttering louder, it went spinning through
the narrows for the open sea.

Suddenly the schooner in front of me gave a violent
yaw, turning, perhaps, through twenty degrees; and
almost at the same moment one shout followed another
from on board; I could hear feet pounding on the
companion ladder and I knew that the two drunkards had
at last been interrupted in their quarrel and awakened
to a sense of their disaster.

I lay down flat in the bottom of that wretched skiff and
devoutly recommended my spirit to its Maker. At the end
of the straits, I made sure we must fall into some bar
of raging breakers, where all my troubles would be ended
speedily; and though I could, perhaps, bear to die, I could
not bear to look upon my fate as it approached.

So I must have lain for hours, continually beaten to
and fro upon the billows, now and again wetted with
flying sprays, and never ceasing to expect death at the
next plunge. Gradually weariness grew upon me; a
numbness, an occasional stupor, fell upon my mind even
in the midst of my terrors, until sleep at last
supervened and in my sea-tossed coracle I lay and
dreamed of home and the old Admiral Benbow.


The Cruise of the Coracle

IT was broad day when I awoke and found myself tossing
at the south-west end of Treasure Island. The sun was
up but was still hid from me behind the great bulk of
the Spy-glass, which on this side descended almost to
the sea in formidable cliffs.

Haulbowline Head and Mizzen-mast Hill were at my elbow,
the hill bare and dark, the head bound with cliffs forty
or fifty feet high and fringed with great masses of fallen
rock. I was scarce a quarter of a mile to seaward, and it
was my first thought to paddle in and land.

That notion was soon given over. Among the fallen
rocks the breakers spouted and bellowed; loud
reverberations, heavy sprays flying and falling,
succeeded one another from second to second; and I saw
myself, if I ventured nearer, dashed to death upon the
rough shore or spending my strength in vain to scale
the beetling crags.

Nor was that all, for crawling together on flat tables of
rock or letting themselves drop into the sea with loud
reports I beheld huge slimy monsters--soft snails, as it
were, of incredible bigness--two or three score of them
together, making the rocks to echo with their barkings.

I have understood since that they were sea lions, and
entirely harmless. But the look of them, added to the
difficulty of the shore and the high running of the
surf, was more than enough to disgust me of that
landing-place. I felt willing rather to starve at sea
than to confront such perils.

In the meantime I had a better chance, as I supposed,
before me. North of Haulbowline Head, the land runs in
a long way, leaving at low tide a long stretch of
yellow sand. To the north of that, again, there comes
another cape--Cape of the Woods, as it was marked upon
the chart--buried in tall green pines, which descended
to the margin of the sea.

I remembered what Silver had said about the current that
sets northward along the whole west coast of Treasure
Island, and seeing from my position that I was already
under its influence, I preferred to leave Haulbowline
Head behind me and reserve my strength for an attempt to
land upon the kindlier-looking Cape of the Woods.

There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind
blowing steady and gentle from the south, there was no
contrariety between that and the current, and the
billows rose and fell unbroken.

Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished;
but as it was, it is surprising how easily and securely
my little and light boat could ride. Often, as I still
lay at the bottom and kept no more than an eye above
the gunwale, I would see a big blue summit heaving
close above me; yet the coracle would but bounce a
little, dance as if on springs, and subside on the
other side into the trough as lightly as a bird.

I began after a little to grow very bold and sat up to
try my skill at paddling. But even a small change in
the disposition of the weight will produce violent changes
in the behaviour of a coracle. And I had hardly moved
before the boat, giving up at once her gentle dancing
movement, ran straight down a slope of water so steep
that it made me giddy, and struck her nose, with a spout
of spray, deep into the side of the next wave.

I was drenched and terrified, and fell instantly back
into my old position, whereupon the coracle seemed to
find her head again and led me as softly as before
among the billows. It was plain she was not to be
interfered with, and at that rate, since I could in no
way influence her course, what hope had I left of
reaching land?

I began to be horribly frightened, but I kept my head, for
all that. First, moving with all care, I gradually baled
out the coracle with my sea-cap; then, getting my eye once
more above the gunwale, I set myself to study how it was
she managed to slip so quietly through the rollers.

I found each wave, instead of the big, smooth glossy
mountain it looks from shore or from a vessel's deck,
was for all the world like any range of hills on dry
land, full of peaks and smooth places and valleys. The
coracle, left to herself, turning from side to side,
threaded, so to speak, her way through these lower
parts and avoided the steep slopes and higher, toppling
summits of the wave.

"Well, now," thought I to myself, "it is plain I must
lie where I am and not disturb the balance; but it is
plain also that I can put the paddle over the side and
from time to time, in smooth places, give her a shove
or two towards land." No sooner thought upon than
done. There I lay on my elbows in the most trying
attitude, and every now and again gave a weak stroke or
two to turn her head to shore.

It was very tiring and slow work, yet I did visibly
gain ground; and as we drew near the Cape of the Woods,
though I saw I must infallibly miss that point, I had
still made some hundred yards of easting. I was,
indeed, close in. I could see the cool green tree-tops
swaying together in the breeze, and I felt sure I
should make the next promontory without fail.

It was high time, for I now began to be tortured with
thirst. The glow of the sun from above, its
thousandfold reflection from the waves, the sea-water
that fell and dried upon me, caking my very lips with
salt, combined to make my throat burn and my brain
ache. The sight of the trees so near at hand had
almost made me sick with longing, but the current had
soon carried me past the point, and as the next reach
of sea opened out, I beheld a sight that changed the
nature of my thoughts.

Right in front of me, not half a mile away, I beheld
the HISPANIOLA under sail. I made sure, of course,
that I should be taken; but I was so distressed for
want of water that I scarce knew whether to be glad or
sorry at the thought, and long before I had come to a
conclusion, surprise had taken entire possession of my
mind and I could do nothing but stare and wonder.

The HISPANIOLA was under her main-sail and two
jibs, and the beautiful white canvas shone in the sun
like snow or silver. When I first sighted her, all her
sails were drawing; she was lying a course about north-
west, and I presumed the men on board were going round
the island on their way back to the anchorage.
Presently she began to fetch more and more to the
westward, so that I thought they had sighted me and
were going about in chase. At last, however, she fell
right into the wind's eye, was taken dead aback, and
stood there awhile helpless, with her sails shivering.

"Clumsy fellows," said I; "they must still be drunk as
owls." And I thought how Captain Smollett would have
set them skipping.

Meanwhile the schooner gradually fell off and filled
again upon another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or
so, and brought up once more dead in the wind's eye.
Again and again was this repeated. To and fro, up and
down, north, south, east, and west, the HISPANIOLA
sailed by swoops and dashes, and at each repetition
ended as she had begun, with idly flapping canvas. It
became plain to me that nobody was steering. And if
so, where were the men? Either they were dead drunk or
had deserted her, I thought, and perhaps if I could get
on board I might return the vessel to her captain.

The current was bearing coracle and schooner southward
at an equal rate. As for the latter's sailing, it was
so wild and intermittent, and she hung each time so
long in irons, that she certainly gained nothing, if
she did not even lose. If only I dared to sit up and
paddle, I made sure that I could overhaul her. The
scheme had an air of adventure that inspired me, and
the thought of the water breaker beside the fore
companion doubled my growing courage.

Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another
cloud of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose and
set myself, with all my strength and caution, to paddle
after the unsteered HISPANIOLA. Once I shipped a
sea so heavy that I had to stop and bail, with my heart
fluttering like a bird, but gradually I got into the
way of the thing and guided my coracle among the waves,
with only now and then a blow upon her bows and a dash
of foam in my face.

I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner; I could see
the brass glisten on the tiller as it banged about, and
still no soul appeared upon her decks. I could not

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