Chapter 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 faraway 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!"