Well , then '' -- still holding me -- `` I reckon you can go , Jim . And , Jim , if you was to see Silver , you would n't go for to sell Ben Gunn ? Wild horses would n'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 XXXXX had spoken and that some day or other a boat might be wanted and I should know where to look for one .
Gunn HISPANIOLA Island Roger attack cannonade colour fire hiding-place hour