PART THREE
My Shore Adventure
13
How My Shore Adventure Began
THE appearance of the island when I came on deck next
morning was altogether changed. Although the breeze
had now utterly ceased, we had made a great deal of way
during the night and were now lying becalmed about half
a mile to the south-east of the low eastern coast.
Grey-coloured woods covered a large part of the
surface. This even tint was indeed broken up by
streaks of yellow sand-break in the lower lands, and by
many tall trees of the pine family, out-topping the
others--some singly, some in clumps; but the general
colouring was uniform and sad. The hills ran up clear
above the vegetation in spires of naked rock. All were
strangely shaped, and the Spy-glass, which was by three
or four hundred feet the tallest on the island, was
likewise the strangest in configuration, running up
sheer from almost every side and then suddenly cut off
at the top like a pedestal to put a statue on.
The HISPANIOLA was rolling scuppers under in the
ocean swell. The booms were tearing at the blocks, the
rudder was banging to and fro, and the whole ship
creaking, groaning, and jumping like a manufactory. I
had to cling tight to the backstay, and the world
turned giddily before my eyes, for though I was a good
enough sailor when there was way on, this standing
still and being rolled about like a bottle was a thing
I never learned to stand without a qualm or so, above
all in the morning, on an empty stomach.
Perhaps it was this--perhaps it was the look of the
island, with its grey, melancholy woods, and wild stone
spires, and the surf that we could both see and hear
foaming and thundering on the steep beach--at least,
although the sun shone bright and hot, and the shore
birds were fishing and crying all around us, and you
would have thought anyone would have been glad to get
to land after being so long at sea, my heart sank, as
the saying is, into my boots; and from the first look
onward, I hated the very thought of Treasure Island.
We had a dreary morning's work before us, for there was
no sign of any wind, and the boats had to be got out
and manned, and the ship warped three or four miles
round the corner of the island and up the narrow
passage to the haven behind Skeleton Island. I
volunteered for one of the boats, where I had, of
course, no business. The heat was sweltering, and the
men grumbled fiercely over their work. Anderson was in
command of my boat, and instead of keeping the crew in
order, he grumbled as loud as the worst.
"Well," he said with an oath, "it's not forever."
I thought this was a very bad sign, for up to that day
the men had gone briskly and willingly about their
business; but the very sight of the island had relaxed
the cords of discipline.
All the way in, Long John stood by the steersman and
conned the ship. He knew the passage like the palm of
his hand, and though the man in the chains got
everywhere more water than was down in the chart, John
never hesitated once.
"There's a strong scour with the ebb," he said, "and
this here passage has been dug out, in a manner of
speaking, with a spade."
We brought up just where the anchor was in the chart,
about a third of a mile from each shore, the mainland
on one side and Skeleton Island on the other. The
bottom was clean sand. The plunge of our anchor sent
up clouds of birds wheeling and crying over the woods,
but in less than a minute they were down again and all
was once more silent.
The place was entirely land-locked, buried in woods,
the trees coming right down to high-water mark, the
shores mostly flat, and the hilltops standing round at
a distance in a sort of amphitheatre, one here, one
there. Two little rivers, or rather two swamps,
emptied out into this pond, as you might call it; and
the foliage round that part of the shore had a kind of
poisonous brightness. From the ship we could see
nothing of the house or stockade, for they were quite
buried among trees; and if it had not been for the
chart on the companion, we might have been the first
that had ever anchored there since the island arose out
of the seas.
There was not a breath of air moving, nor a sound but that
of the surf booming half a mile away along the beaches and
against the rocks outside. A peculiar stagnant smell hung
over the anchorage--a smell of sodden leaves and rotting
tree trunks. I observed the doctor sniffing and sniffing,
like someone tasting a bad egg.
"I don't know about treasure," he said, "but I'll stake
my wig there's fever here."
If the conduct of the men had been alarming in the
boat, it became truly threatening when they had come
aboard. They lay about the deck growling together in
talk. The slightest order was received with a black
look and grudgingly and carelessly obeyed. Even the
honest hands must have caught the infection, for there
was not one man aboard to mend another. Mutiny, it was
plain, hung over us like a thunder-cloud.
And it was not only we of the cabin party who perceived
the danger. Long John was hard at work going from
group to group, spending himself in good advice, and as
for example no man could have shown a better. He
fairly outstripped himself in willingness and civility;
he was all smiles to everyone. If an order were given,
John would be on his crutch in an instant, with the
cheeriest "Aye, aye, sir!" in the world; and when there
was nothing else to do, he kept up one song after
another, as if to conceal the discontent of the rest.
Of all the gloomy features of that gloomy afternoon, this
obvious anxiety on the part of Long John appeared the worst.
We held a council in the cabin.
"Sir," said the captain, "if I risk another order, the
whole ship'll come about our ears by the run. You see,
sir, here it is. I get a rough answer, do I not? Well,
if I speak back, pikes will be going in two shakes; if I
don't, Silver will see there's something under that, and
the game's up. Now, we've only one man to rely on."
"And who is that?" asked the squire.
"Silver, sir," returned the captain; "he's as anxious
as you and I to smother things up. This is a tiff;
he'd soon talk 'em out of it if he had the chance, and
what I propose to do is to give him the chance. Let's
allow the men an afternoon ashore. If they all go, why
we'll fight the ship. If they none of them go, well
then, we hold the cabin, and God defend the right. If
some go, you mark my words, sir, Silver'll bring 'em
aboard again as mild as lambs."
It was so decided; loaded pistols were served out to all
the sure men; Hunter, Joyce, and Redruth were taken into
our confidence and received the news with less surprise
and a better spirit than we had looked for, and then the
captain went on deck and addressed the crew.
"My lads," said he, "we've had a hot day and are all
tired and out of sorts. A turn ashore'll hurt nobody--
the boats are still in the water; you can take the gigs,
and as many as please may go ashore for the afternoon.
I'll fire a gun half an hour before sundown."
I believe the silly fellows must have thought they
would break their shins over treasure as soon as they
were landed, for they all came out of their sulks in a
moment and gave a cheer that started the echo in a far-
away hill and sent the birds once more flying and
squalling round the anchorage.
The captain was too bright to be in the way. He
whipped out of sight in a moment, leaving Silver to
arrange the party, and I fancy it was as well he did
so. Had he been on deck, he could no longer so much as
have pretended not to understand the situation. It was
as plain as day. Silver was the captain, and a mighty
rebellious crew he had of it. The honest hands--and I
was soon to see it proved that there were such on
board--must have been very stupid fellows. Or rather,
I suppose the truth was this, that all hands were
disaffected by the example of the ringleaders--only
some more, some less; and a few, being good fellows in
the main, could neither be led nor driven any further.
It is one thing to be idle and skulk and quite another
to take a ship and murder a number of innocent men.
At last, however, the party was made up. Six fellows
were to stay on board, and the remaining thirteen,
including Silver, began to embark.
Then it was that there came into my head the first of
the mad notions that contributed so much to save our
lives. If six men were left by Silver, it was plain
our party could not take and fight the ship; and since
only six were left, it was equally plain that the cabin
party had no present need of my assistance. It occurred
to me at once to go ashore. In a jiffy I had slipped over
the side and curled up in the fore-sheets of the nearest
boat, and almost at the same moment she shoved off.
No one took notice of me, only the bow oar saying, "Is
that you, Jim? Keep your head down." But Silver, from
the other boat, looked sharply over and called out to
know if that were me; and from that moment I began to
regret what I had done.
The crews raced for the beach, but the boat I was in,
having some start and being at once the lighter and the
better manned, shot far ahead of her consort, and the
bow had struck among the shore-side trees and I had
caught a branch and swung myself out and plunged into
the nearest thicket while Silver and the rest were
still a hundred yards behind.
"Jim, Jim!" I heard him shouting.
But you may suppose I paid no heed; jumping, ducking,
and breaking through, I ran straight before my nose
till I could run no longer.
14
The First Blow
I WAS so pleased at having given the slip to Long John
that I began to enjoy myself and look around me with
some interest on the strange land that I was in.
I had crossed a marshy tract full of willows,
bulrushes, and odd, outlandish, swampy trees; and I had
now come out upon the skirts of an open piece of
undulating, sandy country, about a mile long, dotted
with a few pines and a great number of contorted trees,
not unlike the oak in growth, but pale in the foliage,
like willows. On the far side of the open stood one of
the hills, with two quaint, craggy peaks shining
vividly in the sun.
I now felt for the first time the joy of exploration.
The isle was uninhabited; my shipmates I had left
behind, and nothing lived in front of me but dumb
brutes and fowls. I turned hither and thither among
the trees. Here and there were flowering plants,
unknown to me; here and there I saw snakes, and one
raised his head from a ledge of rock and hissed at me
with a noise not unlike the spinning of a top. Little
did I suppose that he was a deadly enemy and that the
noise was the famous rattle.
Then I came to a long thicket of these oaklike trees--
live, or evergreen, oaks, I heard afterwards they
should be called--which grew low along the sand like
brambles, the boughs curiously twisted, the foliage
compact, like thatch. The thicket stretched down from
the top of one of the sandy knolls, spreading and
growing taller as it went, until it reached the margin
of the broad, reedy fen, through which the nearest of
the little rivers soaked its way into the anchorage.
The marsh was steaming in the strong sun, and the
outline of the Spy-glass trembled through the haze.
All at once there began to go a sort of bustle among
the bulrushes; a wild duck flew up with a quack,
another followed, and soon over the whole surface of
the marsh a great cloud of birds hung screaming and
circling in the air. I judged at once that some of my
shipmates must be drawing near along the borders of the
fen. Nor was I deceived, for soon I heard the very
distant and low tones of a human voice, which, as I
continued to give ear, grew steadily louder and nearer.
This put me in a great fear, and I crawled under cover
of the nearest live-oak and squatted there, hearkening,
as silent as a mouse.
Another voice answered, and then the first voice, which
I now recognized to be Silver's, once more took up the
story and ran on for a long while in a stream, only now
and again interrupted by the other. By the sound they
must have been talking earnestly, and almost fiercely;
but no distinct word came to my hearing.
At last the speakers seemed to have paused and perhaps
to have sat down, for not only did they cease to draw
any nearer, but the birds themselves began to grow more
quiet and to settle again to their places in the swamp.
And now I began to feel that I was neglecting my business,
that since I had been so foolhardy as to come ashore with
these desperadoes, the least I could do was to overhear
them at their councils, and that my plain and obvious duty
was to draw as close as I could manage, under the favourable
ambush of the crouching trees.
I could tell the direction of the speakers pretty
exactly, not only by the sound of their voices but by
the behaviour of the few birds that still hung in alarm
above the heads of the intruders.
Crawling on all fours, I made steadily but slowly
towards them, till at last, raising my head to an
aperture among the leaves, I could see clear down into
a little green dell beside the marsh, and closely set
about with trees, where Long John Silver and another of
the crew stood face to face in conversation.
The sun beat full upon them. Silver had thrown his hat
beside him on the ground, and his great, smooth, blond
face, all shining with heat, was lifted to the other
man's in a kind of appeal.
"Mate," he was saying, "it's because I thinks gold dust
of you--gold dust, and you may lay to that! If I
hadn't took to you like pitch, do you think I'd have
been here a-warning of you? All's up--you can't make
nor mend; it's to save your neck that I'm a-speaking,
and if one of the wild uns knew it, where'd I be, Tom--
now, tell me, where'd I be?"
"Silver," said the other man--and I observed he was not
only red in the face, but spoke as hoarse as a crow, and
his voice shook too, like a taut rope--"Silver," says he,
"you're old, and you're honest, or has the name for it;
and you've money too, which lots of poor sailors hasn't;
and you're brave, or I'm mistook. And will you tell me
you'll let yourself be led away with that kind of a mess
of swabs? Not you! As sure as God sees me, I'd sooner
lose my hand. If I turn agin my dooty--"
And then all of a sudden he was interrupted by a noise.
I had found one of the honest hands--well, here, at
that same moment, came news of another. Far away out
in the marsh there arose, all of a sudden, a sound like
the cry of anger, then another on the back of it; and
then one horrid, long-drawn scream. The rocks of the
Spy-glass re-echoed it a score of times; the whole
troop of marsh-birds rose again, darkening heaven, with
a simultaneous whirr; and long after that death yell
was still ringing in my brain, silence had re-
established its empire, and only the rustle of the
redescending birds and the boom of the distant surges
disturbed the languor of the afternoon.
Tom had leaped at the sound, like a horse at the spur,
but Silver had not winked an eye. He stood where he
was, resting lightly on his crutch, watching his
companion like a snake about to spring.
"John!" said the sailor, stretching out his hand.
"Hands off!" cried Silver, leaping back a yard, as it seemed
to me, with the speed and security of a trained gymnast.
"Hands off, if you like, John Silver," said the other.
"It's a black conscience that can make you feared of
me. But in heaven's name, tell me, what was that?"
"That?" returned Silver, smiling away, but warier than
ever, his eye a mere pin-point in his big face, but
gleaming like a crumb of glass. "That? Oh, I reckon
that'll be Alan."
And at this point Tom flashed out like a hero.
"Alan!" he cried. "Then rest his soul for a true seaman!
And as for you, John Silver, long you've been a mate of
mine, but you're mate of mine no more. If I die like a
dog, I'll die in my dooty. You've killed Alan, have you?
Kill me too, if you can. But I defies you."
And with that, this brave fellow turned his back
directly on the cook and set off walking for the beach.
But he was not destined to go far. With a cry John
seized the branch of a tree, whipped the crutch out of
his armpit, and sent that uncouth missile hurtling
through the air. It struck poor Tom, point foremost,
and with stunning violence, right between the shoulders
in the middle of his back. His hands flew up, he gave
a sort of gasp, and fell.
Whether he were injured much or little, none could ever
tell. Like enough, to judge from the sound, his back
was broken on the spot. But he had no time given him
to recover. Silver, agile as a monkey even without leg
or crutch, was on the top of him next moment and had
twice buried his knife up to the hilt in that
defenceless body. From my place of ambush, I could
hear him pant aloud as he struck the blows.
I do not know what it rightly is to faint, but I do know
that for the next little while the whole world swam away
from before me in a whirling mist; Silver and the birds,
and the tall Spy-glass hilltop, going round and round and
topsy-turvy before my eyes, and all manner of bells ringing
and distant voices shouting in my ear.
When I came again to myself the monster had pulled
himself together, his crutch under his arm, his hat
upon his head. Just before him Tom lay motionless upon
the sward; but the murderer minded him not a whit,
cleansing his blood-stained knife the while upon a wisp
of grass. Everything else was unchanged, the sun still
shining mercilessly on the steaming marsh and the tall
pinnacle of the mountain, and I could scarce persuade
myself that murder had been actually done and a human
life cruelly cut short a moment since before my eyes.
But now John put his hand into his pocket, brought out
a whistle, and blew upon it several modulated blasts
that rang far across the heated air. I could not tell,
of course, the meaning of the signal, but it instantly
awoke my fears. More men would be coming. I might be
discovered. They had already slain two of the honest
people; after Tom and Alan, might not I come next?
Instantly I began to extricate myself and crawl back
again, with what speed and silence I could manage, to
the more open portion of the wood. As I did so, I
could hear hails coming and going between the old
buccaneer and his comrades, and this sound of danger
lent me wings. As soon as I was clear of the thicket,
I ran as I never ran before, scarce minding the
direction of my flight, so long as it led me from the
murderers; and as I ran, fear grew and grew upon me
until it turned into a kind of frenzy.
Indeed, could anyone be more entirely lost than I?
When the gun fired, how should I dare to go down to the
boats among those fiends, still smoking from their crime?
Would not the first of them who saw me wring my neck like
a snipe's? Would not my absence itself be an evidence
to them of my alarm, and therefore of my fatal knowledge?
It was all over, I thought. Good-bye to the HISPANIOLA;
good-bye to the squire, the doctor, and the captain!
There was nothing left for me but death by starvation
or death by the hands of the mutineers.
All this while, as I say, I was still running, and
without taking any notice, I had drawn near to the foot
of the little hill with the two peaks and had got into
a part of the island where the live-oaks grew more
widely apart and seemed more like forest trees in their
bearing and dimensions. Mingled with these were a few
scattered pines, some fifty, some nearer seventy, feet
high. The air too smelt more freshly than down beside
the marsh.
And here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill with
a thumping heart.
15
The Man of the Island
FROM the side of the hill, which was here steep and
stony, a spout of gravel was dislodged and fell
rattling and bounding through the trees. My eyes
turned instinctively in that direction, and I saw a
figure leap with great rapidity behind the trunk of a
pine. What it was, whether bear or man or monkey, I
could in no wise tell. It seemed dark and shaggy; more
I knew not. But the terror of this new apparition
brought me to a stand.
I was now, it seemed, cut off upon both sides; behind
me the murderers, before me this lurking nondescript.
And immediately I began to prefer the dangers that I
knew to those I knew not. Silver himself appeared less
terrible in contrast with this creature of the woods,
and I turned on my heel, and looking sharply behind me
over my shoulder, began to retrace my steps in the
direction of the boats.
Instantly the figure reappeared, and making a wide
circuit, began to head me off. I was tired, at any
rate; but had I been as fresh as when I rose, I could
see it was in vain for me to contend in speed with such
an adversary. From trunk to trunk the creature flitted
like a deer, running manlike on two legs, but unlike
any man that I had ever seen, stooping almost double as
it ran. Yet a man it was, I could no longer be in
doubt about that.
I began to recall what I had heard of cannibals. I was
within an ace of calling for help. But the mere fact
that he was a man, however wild, had somewhat reassured
me, and my fear of Silver began to revive in proportion.
I stood still, therefore, and cast about for some method
of escape; and as I was so thinking, the recollection of
my pistol flashed into my mind. As soon as I remembered
I was not defenceless, courage glowed again in my heart
and I set my face resolutely for this man of the island
and walked briskly towards him.
He was concealed by this time behind another tree
trunk; but he must have been watching me closely, for
as soon as I began to move in his direction he
reappeared and took a step to meet me. Then he
hesitated, drew back, came forward again, and at last,
to my wonder and confusion, threw himself on his knees
and held out his clasped hands in supplication.
At that I once more stopped.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Ben Gunn," he answered, and his voice sounded hoarse and
awkward, like a rusty lock. "I'm poor Ben Gunn, I am; and
I haven't spoke with a Christian these three years."
I could now see that he was a white man like myself and
that his features were even pleasing. His skin,
wherever it was exposed, was burnt by the sun; even his
lips were black, and his fair eyes looked quite
startling in so dark a face. Of all the beggar-men
that I had seen or fancied, he was the chief for
raggedness. He was clothed with tatters of old ship's
canvas and old sea-cloth, and this extraordinary
patchwork was all held together by a system of the most
various and incongruous fastenings, brass buttons, bits
of stick, and loops of tarry gaskin. About his waist
he wore an old brass-buckled leather belt, which was
the one thing solid in his whole accoutrement.
"Three years!" I cried. "Were you shipwrecked?"
"Nay, mate," said he; "marooned."
I had heard the word, and I knew it stood for a
horrible kind of punishment common enough among the
buccaneers, in which the offender is put ashore with a
little powder and shot and left behind on some desolate
and distant island.
"Marooned three years agone," he continued, "and lived
on goats since then, and berries, and oysters. Wherever
a man is, says I, a man can do for himself. But, mate,
my heart is sore for Christian diet. You mightn't happen
to have a piece of cheese about you, now? No? Well,
many's the long night I've dreamed of cheese--toasted,
mostly--and woke up again, and here I were."
"If ever I can get aboard again," said I, "you shall
have cheese by the stone."
All this time he had been feeling the stuff of my
jacket, smoothing my hands, looking at my boots, and
generally, in the intervals of his speech, showing a
childish pleasure in the presence of a fellow creature.
But at my last words he perked up into a kind of
startled slyness.
"If ever you can get aboard again, says you?" he
repeated. "Why, now, who's to hinder you?"
"Not you, I know," was my reply.
"And right you was," he cried. "Now you--what do you
call yourself, mate?"
"Jim," I told him.
"Jim, Jim," says he, quite pleased apparently. "Well,
now, Jim, I've lived that rough as you'd be ashamed to
hear of. Now, for instance, you wouldn't think I had
had a pious mother--to look at me?" he asked.
"Why, no, not in particular," I answered.
"Ah, well," said he, "but I had--remarkable pious. And
I was a civil, pious boy, and could rattle off my
catechism that fast, as you couldn't tell one word from
another. And here's what it come to, Jim, and it begun
with chuck-farthen on the blessed grave-stones! That's
what it begun with, but it went further'n that; and so
my mother told me, and predicked the whole, she did, the
pious woman! But it were Providence that put me here.
I've thought it all out in this here lonely island, and
I'm back on piety. You don't catch me tasting rum so
much, but just a thimbleful for luck, of course, the
first chance I have. I'm bound I'll be good, and I see
the way to. And, Jim"--looking all round him and lowering
his voice to a whisper--"I'm rich."
I now felt sure that the poor fellow had gone crazy in
his solitude, and I suppose I must have shown the
feeling in my face, for he repeated the statement
hotly: "Rich! Rich! I says. And I'll tell you what:
I'll make a man of you, Jim. Ah, Jim, you'll bless
your stars, you will, you was the first that found me!"
And at this there came suddenly a lowering shadow over
his face, and he tightened his grasp upon my hand and
raised a forefinger threateningly before my eyes.
"Now, Jim, you tell me true: that ain't Flint's ship?"
he asked.
At this I had a happy inspiration. I began to believe
that I had found an ally, and I answered him at once.
"It's not Flint's ship, and Flint is dead; but I'll
tell you true, as you ask me--there are some of Flint's
hands aboard; worse luck for the rest of us."
"Not a man--with one--leg?" he gasped.
"Silver?" I asked.
"Ah, Silver!" says he. "That were his name."
"He's the cook, and the ringleader too."
He was still holding me by the wrist, and at that he
give it quite a wring.
"If you was sent by Long John," he said, "I'm as good as
pork, and I know it. But where was you, do you suppose?"
I had made my mind up in a moment, and by way of answer
told him the whole story of our voyage and the
predicament in which we found ourselves. He heard me
with the keenest interest, and when I had done he
patted me on the head.
"You're a good lad, Jim," he said; "and you're all in a
clove hitch, ain't you? Well, you just put your trust
in Ben Gunn--Ben Gunn's the man to do it. Would you
think it likely, now, that your squire would prove a
liberal-minded one in case of help--him being in a
clove hitch, as you remark?"
I told him the squire was the most liberal of men.
"Aye, but you see," returned Ben Gunn, "I didn't mean
giving me a gate to keep, and a suit of livery clothes,
and such; that's not my mark, Jim. What I mean is,
would he be likely to come down to the toon of, say one
thousand pounds out of money that's as good as a man's
own already?"
"I am sure he would," said I. "As it was, all hands
were to share."
"AND a passage home?" he added with a look of great
shrewdness.
"Why," I cried, "the squire's a gentleman. And
besides, if we got rid of the others, we should want
you to help work the vessel home."
"Ah," said he, "so you would." And he seemed very much
relieved.
"Now, I'll tell you what," he went on. "So much I'll
tell you, and no more. I were in Flint's ship when he
buried the treasure; he and six along--six strong
seamen. They was ashore nigh on a week, and us
standing off and on in the old WALRUS. One fine
day up went the signal, and here come Flint by himself
in a little boat, and his head done up in a blue scarf.
The sun was getting up, and mortal white he looked
about the cutwater. But, there he was, you mind, and
the six all dead--dead and buried. How he done it, not
a man aboard us could make out. It was battle, murder,
and sudden death, leastways--him against six. Billy
Bones was the mate; Long John, he was quartermaster;
and they asked him where the treasure was. 'Ah,' says
he, 'you can go ashore, if you like, and stay,' he
says; 'but as for the ship, she'll beat up for more, by
thunder!' That's what he said.
"Well, I was in another ship three years back, and we
sighted this island. 'Boys,' said I, 'here's Flint's
treasure; let's land and find it.' The cap'n was
displeased at that, but my messmates were all of a mind
and landed. Twelve days they looked for it, and every
day they had the worse word for me, until one fine
morning all hands went aboard. 'As for you, Benjamin
Gunn,' says they, 'here's a musket,' they says, 'and a
spade, and pick-axe. You can stay here and find
Flint's money for yourself,' they says.
"Well, Jim, three years have I been here, and not a bite
of Christian diet from that day to this. But now, you
look here; look at me. Do I look like a man before the
mast? No, says you. Nor I weren't, neither, I says."
And with that he winked and pinched me hard.
"Just you mention them words to your squire, Jim," he went
on. "Nor he weren't, neither--that's the words. Three
years he were the man of this island, light and dark, fair
and rain; and sometimes he would maybe think upon a prayer
(says you), and sometimes he would maybe think of his old
mother, so be as she's alive (you'll say); but the most
part of Gunn's time (this is what you'll say)--the most
part of his time was took up with another matter. And
then you'll give him a nip, like I do."
And he pinched me again in the most confidential manner.
"Then," he continued, "then you'll up, and you'll say
this: Gunn is a good man (you'll say), and he puts a
precious sight more confidence--a precious sight, mind
that--in a gen'leman born than in these gen'leman of
fortune, having been one hisself."
"Well," I said, "I don't understand one word that
you've been saying. But that's neither here nor there;
for how am I to get on board?"
"Ah," said he, "that's the hitch, for sure. Well,
there's my boat, that I made with my two hands. I keep
her under the white rock. If the worst come to the
worst, we might try that after dark. Hi!" he broke
out. "What's that?"
For just then, although the sun had still an hour or
two to run, all the echoes of the island awoke and
bellowed to the thunder of a cannon.
"They have begun to fight!" I cried. "Follow me."
And I began to run towards the anchorage, my terrors
all forgotten, while close at my side the marooned man
in his goatskins trotted easily and lightly.
"Left, left," says he; "keep to your left hand, mate
Jim! Under the trees with you! Theer's where I killed
my first goat. They don't come down here now; they're
all mastheaded on them mountings for the fear of
Benjamin Gunn. Ah! And there's the cetemery"--
cemetery, he must have meant. "You see the mounds? I
come here and prayed, nows and thens, when I thought
maybe a Sunday would be about doo. It weren't quite a
chapel, but it seemed more solemn like; and then, says
you, Ben Gunn was short-handed--no chapling, nor so
much as a Bible and a flag, you says."
So he kept talking as I ran, neither expecting nor
receiving any answer.
The cannon-shot was followed after a considerable
interval by a volley of small arms.
Another pause, and then, not a quarter of a mile in
front of me, I beheld the Union Jack flutter in the air
above a wood.
PART FOUR
The Stockade
16
Narrative Continued by the Doctor: How the
Ship Was Abandoned
IT was about half past one--three bells in the sea
phrase--that the two boats went ashore from the
HISPANIOLA. The captain, the squire, and I were
talking matters over in the cabin. Had there been a
breath of wind, we should have fallen on the six
mutineers who were left aboard with us, slipped our
cable, and away to sea. But the wind was wanting; and
to complete our helplessness, down came Hunter with the
news that Jim Hawkins had slipped into a boat and was
gone ashore with the rest.
It never occurred to us to doubt Jim Hawkins, but we
were alarmed for his safety. With the men in the
temper they were in, it seemed an even chance if we
should see the lad again. We ran on deck. The pitch
was bubbling in the seams; the nasty stench of the
place turned me sick; if ever a man smelt fever and
dysentery, it was in that abominable anchorage. The
six scoundrels were sitting grumbling under a sail in
the forecastle; ashore we could see the gigs made fast
and a man sitting in each, hard by where the river runs
in. One of them was whistling "Lillibullero."
Waiting was a strain, and it was decided that Hunter
and I should go ashore with the jolly-boat in quest
of information.
The gigs had leaned to their right, but Hunter and I
pulled straight in, in the direction of the stockade
upon the chart. The two who were left guarding their
boats seemed in a bustle at our appearance; "Lillibullero"
stopped off, and I could see the pair discussing what
they ought to do. Had they gone and told Silver, all
might have turned out differently; but they had their
orders, I suppose, and decided to sit quietly where
they were and hark back again to "Lillibullero."
There was a slight bend in the coast, and I steered so
as to put it between us; even before we landed we had
thus lost sight of the gigs. I jumped out and came as
near running as I durst, with a big silk handkerchief
under my hat for coolness' sake and a brace of pistols
ready primed for safety.
I had not gone a hundred yards when I reached the stockade.
This was how it was: a spring of clear water rose
almost at the top of a knoll. Well, on the knoll, and
enclosing the spring, they had clapped a stout log-
house fit to hold two score of people on a pinch and
loopholed for musketry on either side. All round this
they had cleared a wide space, and then the thing was
completed by a paling six feet high, without door or
opening, too strong to pull down without time and
labour and too open to shelter the besiegers. The
people in the log-house had them in every way; they
stood quiet in shelter and shot the others like
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.
17
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.
18
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.
19
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.
20
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.
21
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.