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Chapter: 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 southeast of the low eastern coast.
Gray-colored 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 coloring 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
gray, 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 that 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 landlocked, buried in woods, the trees coming
right down to high-water mark, the shores mostly flat, and the hill-tops
standing round at a distance in a sort of amphitheater, 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 islands 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 thundercloud.

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 "Ay, ay, 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 can 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 farther. 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
foresheets 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.

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 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 oak-like trees--live, or
evergreen, oaks, I heard afterward 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 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 favorable 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 behavior 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, blonde 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 'ud I be, Tom--now tell me, where 'ud 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 whir; 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 poor 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 hurling 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 was 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 defenseless 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 whisp of grass.
Everything else was unchanged, the sun still shining mercilessly upon
the steaming marsh and the tall pinnacle of the mountain, and I could
scarce persuade myself that murder had actually been 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-by to the _Hispaniola_, good-by 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 wild 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, smelled more fresh
than down beside the marsh.

And here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill with a thumping heart.

[Illustration]

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 nowise 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
man-like 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 defenseless, courage
glowed again in my heart, and I set my face resolutely for this man of
the island, and walked briskly toward 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
burned 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 ships' 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 accouterment.

"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 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 gravestones! 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 can'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 gave 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.

"Ay, 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 had 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 a pickax. 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, may be,
think upon a prayer (says you), and sometimes he would, may be, 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'lemen
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 toward the anchorage, my terrors all forgotten;
while, close at my side, the marooned man in his goat-skins trotted
easily and lightly.

"Left, left," says he; "keep to your left hand, mate Jim! Under the
trees with you! There'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
shorthanded--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 IV

THE STOCKADE

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In Chapter 13 Jim recalls waking in the morning to find the ship becalmed southeast of what he now begins to call Treasure Island, a place of dismal-looking woods and oddly shaped hills, whose appearance he finds unpleasant. There is no wind, so the men must get in boats and row, hauling the ship several miles up the island's eastern coast and into a narrow strait between it and a smaller island to be anchored in this haven. Jim, in the boat commanded by the boatswain Anderson, sees that the men are in a surly mood. It's a breezeless, hot day, and after all have returned to the ship, Livesey says the air smells of fever. In the cabin, Trelawney's party holds a council, and Smollett says the crew will mutiny immediately if something is not done, but that Silver will keep them from it if he is allowed to take the men ashore for the afternoon. They call in Trelawney's servants, Hunter, Joyce, and Redruth, tell them what's going on, and all seven, including Jim, are armed with pistols. Silver arranges a shore party of thirteen in two boats, leaving six men on board, and at the last minute Jim, on impulse, gets into one of the boats. This boat reaches shore before Silver's boat, and although Jim hears Silver calling to him, he jumps out and runs through a thicket, away from the group on shore. Chapter 14 begins with Jim, on his own, exploring the part of the island on which he finds himself. He encounters vegetation, birds, and snakes that are unfamiliar to him. Then, hearing voices approach, Jim crouches hidden and still, and then creeps to where he can overhear the conversation. There are two men, Silver and another called Tom. Tom is arguing with Silver against the pirates' enterprise, and Silver is trying to convince him to go along with them. But then all hear a loud, terrible scream, obviously a death-cry, and Silver tells Tom that it was Alan, apparently another who has tried to resist the pirates' business. Tom refuses Silver's advice and turns to walk away. Silver throws his walking crutch and knocks Tom down, then falls on him and stabs him to death. Jim, horrified, backs away and runs from the sound of the other approaching men, whom Silver has summoned with a whistle. In his flight from the pirates Jim encounters a wild, ragged Englishman, half-crazy, who says he is Ben Gunn, marooned on the island for three years. He has been living on goats, berries, and oysters; he asks for a piece of cheese. Speaking knowingly of the pirates, Ben Gunn convinces Jim that he wants to be of help to the squire's party in return for passage back to England -- and that he'll be able to help. He tells Jim that he was part of Flint's crew when the treasure was buried, and was marooned by later shipmates, to whom he had told the story, when they were unable to find the treasure. Gunn also says that he is rich, a statement he does not explain and which Jim apparently takes as more of the man's almost incomprehensible raving. But just as Gunn has told Jim where his boat is hidden, by which he says they may make their way to the ship after dark, they hear cannon fire from the ship, then small arms fire, and then, soon, Jim sees the British flag flying on the island over the tops of trees.