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Therewasnoreturnofthemutineers—notsomuchasanothershotoutofthewoods.
Theyhad“gottheirrationsforthatday,”asthecaptainputit,andwehadtheplacetoourselvesandaquiettimetooverhaulthewoundedandgetdinner.
SquireandIcookedoutsideinspiteofthedanger,andevenoutsidewecouldhardlytellwhatwewereat,forhorroroftheloudgroansthatreachedusfromthedoctor’spatients.
Outoftheeightmenwhohadfallenintheaction,onlythreestillbreathed—thatoneofthepirateswhohadbeenshotattheloophole,Hunter,andCaptainSmollett;andofthese,thefirsttwowereasgoodasdead;themutineerindeeddiedunderthedoctor’sknife,andHunter,dowhatwecould,neverrecoveredconsciousnessinthisworld.
Helingeredallday,breathingloudlyliketheoldbuccaneerathomeinhisapoplecticfit,butthebonesofhischesthadbeencrushedbytheblowandhisskullfracturedinfalling,andsometimeinthefollowingnight,withoutsignorsound,hewenttohisMaker.
Asforthecaptain,hiswoundsweregrievousindeed,butnotdangerous.Noorganwasfatallyinjured.
Anderson’sball—foritwasJobthatshothimfirst—hadbrokenhisshoulder-bladeandtouchedthelung,notbadly;thesecondhadonlytornanddisplacedsomemusclesinthecalf.
Hewassuretorecover,thedoctorsaid,butinthemeantime,andforweekstocome,hemustnotwalknormovehisarm,norsomuchasspeakwhenhecouldhelpit.
Myownaccidentalcutacrosstheknuckleswasaflea-bite.DoctorLiveseypatcheditupwithplasterandpulledmyearsformeintothebargain.
Afterdinnerthesquireandthedoctorsatbythecaptain’ssideawhileinconsultation;andwhentheyhadtalkedtotheirhearts’content,itbeingthenalittlepastnoon,thedoctortookuphishatandpistols,girtonacutlass,putthechartinhispocket,andwithamusketoverhisshouldercrossedthepalisadeonthenorthsideandsetoffbrisklythroughthetrees.
GrayandIweresittingtogetheratthefarendoftheblockhouse,tobeoutofearshotofourofficersconsulting;andGraytookhispipeoutofhismouthandfairlyforgottoputitbackagain,sothunder-struckhewasatthisoccurrence.
“Why,inthenameofDavyJones,”saidhe,“isDr.Liveseymad?”
“Whyno,”saysI.“He’saboutthelastofthiscrewforthat,Itakeit.”
“Well,shipmate,”saidGray,“madhemaynotbe;butifHE’Snot,youmarkmywords,Iam.”
“Itakeit,”repliedI,“thedoctorhashisidea;andifIamright,he’sgoingnowtoseeBenGunn.”
Iwasright,asappearedlater;butinthemeantime,thehousebeingstiflinghotandthelittlepatchofsandinsidethepalisadeablazewithmiddaysun,Ibegantogetanotherthoughtintomyhead,whichwasnotbyanymeanssoright.
WhatIbegantodowastoenvythedoctorwalkinginthecoolshadowofthewoodswiththebirdsabouthimandthepleasantsmellofthepines,whileIsatgrilling,withmyclothesstucktothehotresin,andsomuchbloodaboutmeandsomanypoordeadbodieslyingallaroundthatItookadisgustoftheplacethatwasalmostasstrongasfear.
AllthetimeIwaswashingouttheblockhouse,andthenwashingupthethingsfromdinner,thisdisgustandenvykeptgrowingstrongerandstronger,tillatlast,beingnearabread-bag,andnoonethenobservingme,Itookthefirststeptowardsmyescapadeandfilledbothpocketsofmycoatwithbiscuit.
Iwasafool,ifyoulike,andcertainlyIwasgoingtodoafoolish,over-boldact;butIwasdeterminedtodoitwithalltheprecautionsinmypower.
Thesebiscuits,shouldanythingbefallme,wouldkeepme,atleast,fromstarvingtillfaroninthenextday.
ThenextthingIlaidholdofwasabraceofpistols,andasIalreadyhadapowder-hornandbullets,Ifeltmyselfwellsuppliedwitharms.
AsfortheschemeIhadinmyhead,itwasnotabadoneinitself.
Iwastogodownthesandyspitthatdividestheanchorageontheeastfromtheopensea,findthewhiterockIhadobservedlastevening,andascertainwhetheritwasthereornotthatBenGunnhadhiddenhisboat,athingquiteworthdoing,asIstillbelieve.
ButasIwascertainIshouldnotbeallowedtoleavetheenclosure,myonlyplanwastotakeFrenchleaveandslipoutwhennobodywaswatching,andthatwassobadawayofdoingitasmadethethingitselfwrong.
ButIwasonlyaboy,andIhadmademymindup.
Well,asthingsatlastfellout,Ifoundanadmirableopportunity.
ThesquireandGraywerebusyhelpingthecaptainwithhisbandages,thecoastwasclear,Imadeaboltforitoverthestockadeandintothethickestofthetrees,andbeforemyabsencewasobservedIwasoutofcryofmycompanions.
Thiswasmysecondfolly,farworsethanthefirst,asIleftbuttwosoundmentoguardthehouse;butlikethefirst,itwasahelptowardssavingallofus.
Itookmywaystraightfortheeastcoastoftheisland,forIwasdeterminedtogodowntheseasideofthespittoavoidallchanceofobservationfromtheanchorage.
Itwasalreadylateintheafternoon,althoughstillwarmandsunny.
AsIcontinuedtothreadthetallwoods,Icouldhearfromfarbeforemenotonlythecontinuousthunderofthesurf,butacertaintossingoffoliageandgrindingofboughswhichshowedmetheseabreezehadsetinhigherthanusual.
Sooncooldraughtsofairbegantoreachme,andafewstepsfartherIcameforthintotheopenbordersofthegrove,andsawthesealyingblueandsunnytothehorizonandthesurftumblingandtossingitsfoamalongthebeach.
IhaveneverseentheseaquietroundTreasureIsland.
Thesunmightblazeoverhead,theairbewithoutabreath,thesurfacesmoothandblue,butstillthesegreatrollerswouldberunningalongalltheexternalcoast,thunderingandthunderingbydayandnight;andIscarcebelievethereisonespotintheislandwhereamanwouldbeoutofearshotoftheirnoise.
Iwalkedalongbesidethesurfwithgreatenjoyment,till,thinkingIwasnowgotfarenoughtothesouth,Itookthecoverofsomethickbushesandcreptwarilyuptotheridgeofthespit.
Behindmewasthesea,infronttheanchorage.
Theseabreeze,asthoughithadthesoonerblownitselfoutbyitsunusualviolence,wasalreadyatanend;ithadbeensucceededbylight,variableairsfromthesouthandsouth-east,carryinggreatbanksoffog;andtheanchorage,underleeofSkeletonIsland,laystillandleadenaswhenfirstweenteredit.
TheHispaniola,inthatunbrokenmirror,wasexactlyportrayedfromthetrucktothewaterline,theJollyRogerhangingfromherpeak.
Alongsidelayoneofthegigs,Silverinthestern-sheets—himIcouldalwaysrecognize—whileacoupleofmenwereleaningoverthesternbulwarks,oneofthemwitharedcap—theveryroguethatIhadseensomehoursbeforestride-legsuponthepalisade.
Apparentlytheyweretalkingandlaughing,thoughatthatdistance—upwardsofamile—Icould,ofcourse,hearnowordofwhatwassaid.
Allatoncetherebeganthemosthorrid,unearthlyscreaming,whichatfirststartledmebadly,thoughIhadsoonrememberedthevoiceofCaptainFlintandeventhoughtIcouldmakeoutthebirdbyherbrightplumageasshesatpercheduponhermaster’swrist.
Soonafter,thejolly-boatshovedoffandpulledforshore,andthemanwiththeredcapandhiscomradewentbelowbythecabincompanion.
Justaboutthesametime,thesunhadgonedownbehindtheSpy-glass,andasthefogwascollectingrapidly,itbegantogrowdarkinearnest.
IsawImustlosenotimeifIweretofindtheboatthatevening.
Thewhiterock,visibleenoughabovethebrush,wasstillsomeeighthofamilefurtherdownthespit,andittookmeagoodishwhiletogetupwithit,crawling,oftenonallfours,amongthescrub.
NighthadalmostcomewhenIlaidmyhandonitsroughsides.
Rightbelowittherewasanexceedinglysmallhollowofgreenturf,hiddenbybanksandathickunderwoodaboutknee-deep,thatgrewthereveryplentifully;andinthecentreofthedell,sureenough,alittletentofgoat-skins,likewhatthegipsiescarryaboutwiththeminEngland.
Idroppedintothehollow,liftedthesideofthetent,andtherewasBenGunn’sboat—home-madeifeveranythingwashome-made;arude,lop-sidedframeworkoftoughwood,andstretcheduponthatacoveringofgoat-skin,withthehairinside.
Thethingwasextremelysmall,evenforme,andIcanhardlyimaginethatitcouldhavefloatedwithafull-sizedman.
Therewasonethwartsetaslowaspossible,akindofstretcherinthebows,andadoublepaddleforpropulsion.
Ihadnotthenseenacoracle,suchastheancientBritonsmade,butIhaveseenonesince,andIcangiveyounofairerideaofBenGunn’sboatthanbysayingitwaslikethefirstandtheworstcoracleevermadebyman.
Butthegreatadvantageofthecoracleitcertainlypossessed,foritwasexceedinglylightandportable.
Well,nowthatIhadfoundtheboat,youwouldhavethoughtIhadhadenoughoftruantryforonce,butinthemeantimeIhadtakenanothernotionandbecomesoobstinatelyfondofitthatIwouldhavecarrieditout,Ibelieve,intheteethofCaptainSmolletthimself.
Thiswastoslipoutundercoverofthenight,cuttheHispaniolaadrift,andlethergoashorewhereshefancied.
Ihadquitemadeupmymindthatthemutineers,aftertheirrepulseofthemorning,hadnothingnearertheirheartsthantoupanchorandawaytosea;this,Ithought,itwouldbeafinethingtoprevent,andnowthatIhadseenhowtheylefttheirwatchmenunprovidedwithaboat,Ithoughtitmightbedonewithlittlerisk.
DownIsattowaitfordarkness,andmadeaheartymealofbiscuit.
Itwasanightoutoftenthousandformypurpose.Thefoghadnowburiedallheaven.
Asthelastraysofdaylightdwindledanddisappeared,absoluteblacknesssettleddownonTreasureIsland.
Andwhen,atlast,IshoulderedthecoracleandgropedmywaystumblinglyoutofthehollowwhereIhadsupped,therewerebuttwopointsvisibleonthewholeanchorage.
Onewasthegreatfireonshore,bywhichthedefeatedpirateslaycarousingintheswamp.
Theother,amerebluroflightuponthedarkness,indicatedthepositionoftheanchoredship.
Shehadswungroundtotheebb—herbowwasnowtowardsme—theonlylightsonboardwereinthecabin,andwhatIsawwasmerelyareflectiononthefogofthestrongraysthatflowedfromthesternwindow.
Theebbhadalreadyrunsometime,andIhadtowadethroughalongbeltofswampysand,whereIsankseveraltimesabovetheankle,beforeIcametotheedgeoftheretreatingwater,andwadingalittlewayin,withsomestrengthanddexterity,setmycoracle,keeldownwards,onthesurface.
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