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 , XXXXX , ca n't expect to appear as sane as you or me .
Gunn Jack Jim Joyce Redruth Smollett evening firewood live-oaks mutineers