CHAPTER XX

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 vapor that had crawled during
the night out of the morass. The chill and the vapor 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. Doctor 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 vigor
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 to himself, "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 are, 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 honor, 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, not you. And I hope"--raising his voice--"that all hands in
this here blockhouse 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 to take
you home to a fair trial in England. If you won't, my name is Alexander
Smollett, I've flown my sovereign's colors, 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 blockhouse 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, plowed 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 afterward among the
trees.




CHAPTER XXI

THE ATTACK


As soon as Silver disappeared, the captain, who had been closely
watching him, turned toward 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 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," he said, "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 defense.

"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 vapors at a draught. Soon the sand was
baking, and the resin melting in the logs of the blockhouse. Jackets and
coats were flung aside; shirts were 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 blockhouse, 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 inclosure. 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 you say there were on your side,
doctor?"

"I know precisely," said Doctor 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 forward into the inclosure, 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 defenses; 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.

[Illustration: _In a moment the four pirates had swarmed up the mound
and were upon us_ (Page 153)]

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 appeared 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 round 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 his 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 eastward, 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
footing 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
nightcap, 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
nightcap still halfway 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 ours.

Gray, following close behind me, had cut down the big boatswain ere he
had time to recover from his lost 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 center 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."[1]

    [1] 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.




PART V

MY SEA ADVENTURE




CHAPTER XXII

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 the
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 heart's 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 blockhouse, 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 thunderstruck he
was at this occurrence.

"Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Doctor 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, 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 blockhouse, 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 toward 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. It
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 inclosure, 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 toward
saving all of us.

I took my way straight for the east coast of the island, for I was
determined to go down the seaside 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 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 southeast, 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 water-line, 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--upward 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 farther 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
center of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat-skins, like what
the gypsies carry about with them in England.

I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent, and there was
Ben Gunn's boat--homemade if ever anything was homemade--a rude,
lopsided 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
watchman 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 toward 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 downward, on the
surface.




CHAPTER XXIII

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,
lopsided craft to manage. Do as you pleased, she always made more leeway
than anything else, and turning round and round was the maneuver 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 further 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 favored me, I should have had to abandon my design. But the
light airs which had begun blowing from the southeast and south had
hauled round after nightfall into the southwest. 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
nightcap. 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 the 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 fibers 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 neighbor, 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 around 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 intervened, and in my sea-tossed coracle
I lay and dreamed of home and the old "Admiral Benbow."




CHAPTER XXIV

THE CRUISE OF THE CORACLE


It was broad day when I awoke and found myself tossing at the southwest
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 behavior 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 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 bailed 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 the 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 thousand-fold 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 possession of my mind, and I could do nothing but
stare and wonder.

The _Hispaniola_ was under her mainsail 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 laying a course about
northwest, 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 I only 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 choose but suppose she was deserted. If not, the men
were lying drunk below, where I might batten them down, perhaps, and do
what I chose with the ship.

For some time she had been doing the worst thing possible for
me--standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing, of course, all
the time. Each time she fell off her sails partly filled, and these
brought her, in a moment, right to the wind again. I have said this was
the worst thing possible for me; for, helpless as she looked in this
situation, with the canvas crackling like cannon, and the blocks
trundling and banging on the deck, she still continued to run away from
me, not only with the speed of the current, but by the whole amount of
her leeway, which was naturally great.

But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell, for some seconds,
very low, and the current gradually turning her, the _Hispaniola_
revolved slowly round her center and at last presented me her stern,
with the cabin window still gaping open and the lamp over the table
still burning on into the day. The mainsail hung drooped like a banner.
She was stock-still but for the current.

For the last little while I had even lost, but now, redoubling my
efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase.