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    Wind please go AWAY!! [Yacht Refit & Restoration Week 81] (Ep.90)
    Articles, Blog

    Wind please go AWAY!! [Yacht Refit & Restoration Week 81] (Ep.90)

    August 17, 2019

    We’re gonna start prepping the mast I’ve
    got to show you all my master splicing tricks and all of those are done and
    everything organized man ugh, so frustrating It’s 8 o’clock in the morning just
    dropped Simone off at the boat she’s busy editing to kick out another episode
    and here’s our list to do for today so we’ve got upholstery and we gotta sort out
    some rigging so I’ve got a collect rigging that’s waiting for us for the
    two fore stays then we have to phone southern ropes for our final order of
    all our new lines and some mooring lines and some rode. I always tell Ricky
    when you get a parcel wait till I can film you opening it do you think he does
    that no he’s too damn eager to open up his parcel. So our new two fore stays freakin
    awesome actually the first time I’ve ever played with the stuff other than
    obviously removing ours we’ve got a stay lock we’ve got our bottom
    turnbuckle this is a little one for inner fore stay ,guys we got to that stage where the mast is outside. We’re gonna start prepping the mast and
    I don’t mean prepping a sense of haylards and that. We’ve cleaned it and washed it
    and done all of that stuff terms of gear and that means installing our tricolour
    light with anchor light that’s below this very nice setup that they got, believe Lalizas does this they’re super nice really neat looking like that
    and we can do it because we are vessels just under 12 meters and this is for
    vessels just under 12 meters so we’re lucky on that we don’t have to do the two bow lights but we
    still need a steaming lighting we still need a we don’t actually need stern light
    because this one has one in the tricolor but we will install one anyways at the back
    mount for our VHF aerial and that looks like that’s one of these whip tips.
    and this is also AIS enabled one probably a later stage we’re probably
    gonna change it and run a secondary aerial to run the AIS independently but since
    our VHF has AIS built in we’re gonna run with one of these those will connect
    up with simple bracket that mounts in goes in there , thought about figured out
    how to mount this bracket in large spot that it’s not in the way of anything
    else and then we got our anemometer that we need to mount with Raymarine they come with a nice
    little base bracket mounted like that probably have it aft facing so that if
    we peek out of the out of the Dodgers it will be very easy to see if we put it to either
    side we might have a bit of a shadow or whatever we’re gonna put it to the back
    that backwards something like that there we got our deck lights, pretty much shines
    on on a well, workinglight, deck light shines on on the deck of the boat so
    that we can see everything at night if we were working if we want to do
    something something goes wrong we could turn that light on a good good light and
    then we got to have our steaming light on there and then our radar and this bad
    boy Quantum Raymarine, so awesome, we bought this
    in the beginning of the project and maybe thankful that we did because we
    have we gotten to this stage might have not been able to afford one, we would have allocated the money to
    other more important things but radar always a great great thing to have and
    yeah we luck to have got one. Here’s our steaming light for vessels less than 12 meters according to the call regs.
    what’s great about those lights that come with these and it’s a 3M double sided tape so all i’m gonna do is put it on drill the holes that need to be drilled
    and screw/tap into that One of the things i’ve discovered lately is using 3M VHB tape as a dissimilar metal barrier, so a barrier between stainless and aluminum ,slap
    some 3M VHB tape there it adheres to and then you can do your fasteners onto that, got
    some of this stuff Duralac tough to get here in South Africa for some reason
    can’t seem to find it, not much around but there’s a guy I helped out with some other
    stuff one of the old sailors helping him with some other gear and he says use
    this and I have seen this all along this mast it’s been green stuff read up a little about it, seems to be pretty good anti corrosive joining
    compound inhibits electronic corrosion between dissimilar metals so
    yeah so if you guys can get a hold of that seems to be good so all the connections we did with
    those and if you don’t know them it’s a solder and then two seals and
    then a heat shrink and over that I put two heat shrinks to seal everything up on top of that. We drilled
    the holes in the bracket that our radar sits on the electronics will only be
    mounted once the mast is already up We then ran all the wire through the mast
    for our lights and connected them up I didn’t get a bracket with the with the
    light obviously you never get brackets with the lights so gonna make one
    just got a piece of stainless steel that is lying around piece of scrap
    marked all my lines where I need to do bends and then the line where I need to cut off and
    we’re gonna fit it over here, we’re gonna have a little steaming light over here
    and our that’s our deck light working light so that’s the bracket pretty much as you
    can see and will rivet it on to the mast over there , we’ll just bend them in a bit
    more thosee tabs and it will be done! putting some of this Duralac stuff it’s
    just to isolate the two material from one another some VHB tape there on the back
    to just to isolate it from the mast to and it’s purely a barrier we just got this little power pack
    it’s a 12-volt power pack and all we’re doing is just testing the light to make
    sure that everything works then I check the tricolor up top. Sweet! sweet Moses helped us out the weekend
    and we got started with our rigging a little bit of corrosion there and on top
    that’s for our Furler so we’re just gonna clean all of that up nicely Lube it up
    maybe even add some anti-corrosion compound and put everything back
    together and inspect all the pins replace all the split pins So this is what she looks like before.. As you can see there’s just a single strap over
    there and then just have you have to take either one of the back stays and
    what I’m going to do is I’m going to standardize these holes are not standard
    I want to go to 13 ml I’m going to get another plate to this like that’s recut
    and then we’ll go down to the standard which is a 13 ml hole and then like
    that’s the whole rig is standard if we need to get gear anywhere it’s easy to get make new
    pins and it will fit, we’ve got a new strap for the other side
    These pins have been in there without compound so they a little bit tight and a little
    bit seized we’re just gonna smack it out that’s pretty much how how our two back stays
    are gonna be, the only thing that’s going to change here is that plate we’re gonna make a new
    plate on Monday with all the wires metal supplies closed today so that’s a set
    up for front one it’s going to go on to a stay lock we have a Norseman here but
    it’s gonna take us a stay lock up front Check at this wind the windsock over there, check at that windsock
    forecast is gusting 45 knots clearly what happens with this marina if it
    blows from the west it flattens everything out but if it was the east
    there’d be one heck of a swell in here on to these dead eyes we’ve got the dead
    eyes which we got from Kraken Luke in the US and we’re gonna make all of these
    lashings so there’s our super 12 from southern
    ropes we’re gonna get all of that turned into these so that we ready hopefully
    Monday to get it on so one of those things have been really on my mind to
    talk to you guys about is doing a boat build in like an open area like
    we’ve done exposed to the elements 24/7 seven days a week and if anyone knows PE
    they’ll know how brutal this environment is the wind pumps here it’ll be sunshine
    in the morning will be raining this afternoon and you’re trying to build a
    boat outside it’s freaking tough so if anyone’s ever considering doing a boat
    build or a refurb or something try your best to kind of get it to somewhere even
    if it’s upper stream somewhere into a little warehouse or something like that
    just to help you out a bit because the weather will really sometimes get you
    down but yeah I think Simone needs some help let me go help her out, at least we got some indoor
    splicing today I’m gonna show you all my master splicing tricks I’ve only been
    doing this for like two months.. no you’ve been doing it since Luke taught you.. joking been here since Skywalker has been
    here so Luke left me a whole bunch of these goodies like this thing I think he
    said this is to start the engine when it doesn’t fail.. Marlin spike. ah Simone knows them! it’s got some of these these apparently
    to do shoelaces .. fids.. splicing fids..I’m clever hey!! Too smart! Simone;s got it she’s got it down
    thanks to Luke well it’s not as neat as when Luke left it here. Luke check
    at this what is going on at this box and all of those are done and
    everything organized so we got each one attached to a sexy Deadeye man so
    frustrating so we’ve prepped up the mast pretty much we’ve run our rigging on the
    mast we’re ready to haul up the mast but do you think the weather plays right
    with us no, this wind never freakin stops which is great for sailing but really
    crappy when you have to work so we’re trying to finish up our little things
    that we still have to do and hopefully the weather clears up sometime this week so
    that we can hoist up the mast So all our Dyneema rigging is run.. check out those are the custom spreader
    tips that we put that we made out of HDPE and check theres our oh man almost
    looks like carbon fiber but it ain’t it’s super 12 from southern ropes
    with chafe sleeve cover on it and now what we’re gonna do is we’re gonna seize these
    tips on so we’re gonna literally will run lines over in a figure eight like
    that so it’s secure and doesn’t move so that’s what the mast looks like at the
    moment VHF aerial super awesome LED light and that’s where anemometer is
    gonna go plug in to there I just took it off because I don’t want it hanging outside
    here, secondary fore stay that I made out of Dyneema out of super 12 just for
    the moment so we can get the gauge length
    there’s our backstay’s check how nice that looks man now that’s another one’s
    missing cause I’m waiting for that toggle for the guys to bring the
    toggle , there’s our solid thimbles and the whole rig is done like that check at
    that man that’s beautiful whole mast is set up
    Show you down here what it looks like our white steaming light
    Also LED with our deck light Hella, so we’re gonna have lots of good
    light at night you want a party on the decks so yeah the only thing we need to
    do, our furlers on the side see that long aluminum one there that’s a
    furler and we still got the drums at Basil’s house hopefully we’ll get out to
    that this week get it all done all the wirings in conduit in there and those
    lines are all gonna get replaced with new lines but for now we are ready to go up It’s Wednesday today, we’ve been
    waiting since Monday for a crane and obviously cause we trying to get the
    discount the crane can only come on the day that they’ve got work inside the
    harbor so we wait for them for those days and when they pitch up then we just
    use them once they’re done with the other work that they need to do first
    and then obviously it’s at a much reduced price much cheaper so it’s
    affordable for us to do it and that’s going to get our mast on but the boat is
    looking sweet check at that anchors on everything’s
    finishing up real good gotta give you guys a better view! check at that get my
    head out of it , that looks awesome man,so much work, year and a half down the line and we’re finally
    getting ready launch super excited just wanna freakin go sailing
    already travel eat food surf not that I can surf but we’ll try something check at those
    bad ass solar panels 1000 watt’s baby let’s get to work don’t forget to
    subscribe below if you haven’t already and give us a thumbs up if you’d like to
    support our production you can do so viaany of the links in the description below
    and have an awesome week Stay tuned till next week where we hopefully.. get our mast up.

    Attempted robbery! – The darker side of sailing around the world! Sailing Vessel Delos Ep. 127
    Articles, Blog

    Attempted robbery! – The darker side of sailing around the world! Sailing Vessel Delos Ep. 127

    August 17, 2019

    [? They got ?] [? it. ?] Hey. Hey. Over here, over here. Over here. Brady, over here. Brady. Kazza, what’s happening? Is it a guy right there? Yeah, he’s right here. [MUSIC PLAYING] Previously on Delos– we do
    some more underwater exploring, we have one final sail
    with Greg and Cheyenne, and we say a sad
    goodbye to Camilla. It was 3 AM and we
    had just been woken up by an incredibly loud noise. We ran out on deck
    to find someone attempting to steal our dinghy, Kazza, what’s happening? Is it a guy right there? Yeah, he’s right here. [INAUDIBLE] We had come home early that
    night and did as we always do, lift Maggie a few meters out of
    the water, turn out the lights, and crawl into bed. Unfortunately, a
    local from the village thought it would be a good
    idea to paddle out and see if he could get his hands
    on our outboard motor. Once he realized the motor alone
    would sink his little canoe, he decided to stand up and
    cut through the haylard that was holding all 150
    kilos of Maggie. The ridiculously loud noise
    of Maggie falling two meters onto his canoe woke
    us up immediately. I turned the deck lights on and
    ran outside with a flashlight to find a man standing
    in Maggie, attempting to paddle her away. Half naked and half
    asleep, my first reaction was to yell, hey you, [BLEEP],,
    which scared him enough for him to dive out of the dinghy and
    disappear into the dark water surrounding us. Brian appeared with a
    machete, also yelling and screaming like a crazy man. Get the [BLEEP] out of
    here, you son of a [BLEEP].. We immediately
    sprung into action, jumping into Maggie just
    before she drifted away. We re-tightened the outboard
    motor and began the chase. There was no way we were
    letting this asshole get away without trying to capture
    his face on camera. Where’s he at? He’s right under the boat. Right here, right here. Under the water. Swimming back over. This dude was an
    incredible diver, going back and forth
    under the keel of Delos and least six or seven times. He’s over here, Brady. He’s right here. So [BLEEP] scary, though. He’s over here. Our plan was to scare him, scare
    the shit out of him, actually. And hopefully get
    him in the dingy and take him to
    the police station. Hey, I’m going to
    get you [BLEEP].. Don’t [BLEEP] I don’t
    know if I like this. I know he’s [BLEEP] tired. He’s right here. Yeah. [INAUDIBLE] Is there just one of them? [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Come here. Yeah. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Come here
    in the [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] I don’t– They’re going to
    get him in the boat. It’s– I mean– he’s
    a [BLEEPING] pissed, but you don’t– I don’t know. We don’t want him to drown. We don’t want to hurt him. So the boy’s getting him now. [INAUDIBLE] No, no, no Don’t let him rest. Don’t let him rest. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] All right, starboard. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] We’re not going
    to kill you, bro. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] We’re not going to kill you. He doesn’t want to go
    in the boat, though. Yeah, get his face. Get his face. But it’s– No, no, no [INAUDIBLE] Blurry. [INAUDIBLE] He’s slippery, bro. You almost had him. [INAUDIBLE] He’s hard to grab, bro. OK. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Guys. Brian, do you want to call
    somebody or should we– Yeah shouldn’t we be calling? Nah, we’ll get him first. He’s right here. Well, I mean, he’s never
    going to hand himself in. Yeah, he’s not. After a while, we figured
    it would be a good idea to call some of
    our local friends, get some advice on what to do. After all, we were in
    Madagascar and wanted to play by the local rules. The security guard. Should we call, like,
    Bruce Bruce or Rudy? Yeah, I think he swam to the
    other boat and [BLEEP] I mean, it’s really dark out tonight. Must be just like hanging on. It’s no moonlight. Yeah, he might be
    hanging onto something or is drifting, right? If he drifts down it’s
    real hard to see him. So I think we’re going
    to try to call somebody to figure out what to do. But, I don’t know. Yeah. I kept hearing
    these crazy noises and I thought the bow of
    the dinghy was full of water because it was like banging
    and making a weird noise. then I just got this [BLEEP]
    feeling, a really bad feeling. So I flipped the
    lights on on deck and came out with a
    flashlight and somebody had cut the halyard for the dinghy. Really? And was trying to fucking
    steal the outboard in a sinking canoe. Like, [BLEEP] is he going to do? Absolutely didn’t
    think about it at all. His canoe is totally
    under water and it’s gone and he’s trying to steal
    our massive outboard. Trying to swim to
    another boat to lose us. Come on, let’s go
    over there, quick. [? Go, ?] go. Why do people do shit
    like this, though? Like, what the [BLEEP]. I don’t know, it just
    makes me really sad. Like a beautiful place
    like this and then can just be completely
    destroyed, in a way, by people think that it’s OK to
    steal from other people. It’s just real shit. Just makes me sad. No luck? Nah, we lost him. We’re going to try
    and find his canoe. So I just need
    Mares dive lights. Can you [INAUDIBLE] I think we– I think
    we lost him in the dark and he’s something
    between the boats and we couldn’t
    get him on board. We kept grabbing him and his
    shirt kept ripping apart. But we found the canoe. And he probably stole it
    so if we collect the canoe and hopefully we have
    this face then we can maybe track him down. So the guys have
    just gone off now and there’s a lot of
    whistling going on and I think quite a few
    other boats are now awake. And I feel like it’s
    [? something that’s ?] going on at land. So maybe he got into land. I’m just happy other
    people are awake because then at least
    other people can help and locals can be more– I don’t know. I don’t like when it’s just
    the guys because you never know even– I mean, what do you
    even do with somebody? If we would have
    caught him, like– I guess we all have
    different feelings about it but for me it’s
    like, I don’t know. Like, if you want to get
    involved with the police in that way in here. I mean, Madagascar
    is amazing but I don’t think you want to get
    involved the police here, unfortunately. And me and Cheyenne
    are having a cup of tea because I need to calm down. Have you ever been
    robbed before, Cheyenne? From my locker in high school. Not like this. Yeah. It’s definitely
    a little sketchy. And it’s different when
    you’re in a country. Like, it’s not in Sweden
    where you can call the police, 911, boom, somebody’s there
    in 10 minutes, you know? It’s different. You have to deal
    with it yourself. You have to take action
    that you don’t need to in another country. Yeah. Yeah, just trying to stay calm. Where it’s like
    you said, back home it’s like you call someone
    else to come and help you. Where here there’s
    five of us and we all have to help each
    other and then look out for all of these people’s
    boats and make sure that everybody is like
    aware of what’s going on. Yeah. So it’s good that you
    got a shot of his face because now at least there’s a
    name to what’s been going on. Yeah. And it looks like
    there’s a spotlight search from– is that a boat? Do you see that? Is that the boys? Every once and a while. See that? Yeah, that’s probably them. Meanwhile, we were
    scouring through the jungle with about 10 of the locals. After a few hours of searching
    the sun started to rise and we called it off. The thief had escaped
    into the darkness. What a manhunt that was. Did you find him? No. Very close. Really? Very close a few times. He was up in the jungle. I think they saw him
    climbing the rocks here. Yeah, we spent the
    last couple of hours in the jungle
    trying to track him. No luck. No luck. Torches started
    dying and he gone. He’s gone. I think he was in his canoe
    trying to take the outboard off and that wasn’t working
    because it’s so fucking heavy. Ah, yeah. And he’s probably like– Because when you lift
    it the whole thing– The whole front, exactly. Goes up, right? So then he’s like, OK. So you have to be two
    people in two canoes to be able to push
    [? straight to ?] front. Yeah. So then he’s probably
    standing there next to it and just started
    cutting the lines and those were the loud
    noises that sounded like the anchor was pulling. Every time you cut a
    line the dinghy’s like– and then he had it. I mean, it was gone. It was loose. [INAUDIBLE] Yeah it was– He cut all the lines and
    the bow line was cut. Really? Yeah. It was floating right
    next to the boat when me and Brady came out. Yeah. I just stepped into
    it and then we– It was like this fucking close. Another, 10, 15
    seconds and it would have been drifting that way. We came out and it was gone. I mean it, I had pieces of
    shirt that kept ripping. Yeah. Then you’d grab his arm and
    he was a little slippery. Real slippery. Madagascar [INAUDIBLE]. We got a canoe. We got a canoe. That’s pretty cool. We did. Yeah, we found his canoe. I’m happy you guys didn’t get
    hurt or witness any brutality. Yeah, I was on
    the way back and I started seeing there
    was probably 10 people involved looking for him. And on the way back,
    we passed the people that were on the
    trail if he ran out, and they all had
    knives and rocks. And we’re like, well, maybe
    they’ll hit him a few times and then grab him and
    take them to the police. Or maybe their brain will
    flip and then he’s dead. I don’t think the
    kid deserves to die. No. That’s what we were saying, too. He deserves to get the shit
    scared out of him like he did. And he deserves to get caught. It sucks because we’re
    not going to sleep well and every little noise
    is going to wake us up. That’s the worst part
    about it is [INAUDIBLE].. The last time it happened
    it took months for me to be able to sleep again, you know? Yeah. So we have some
    boys here that think that they know who
    the canoe belongs to and they want to take it. I don’t think they
    speak good French and they definitely
    don’t speak English. And French is shit. But it sounds like they
    know the owner of the boat. The chances that it was his
    canoe is pretty slim, right? Yeah, I don’t think
    it would be his. He looked quite young. I don’t know,
    generally the people that own the canoes
    that are proper fisherman they’re not
    bad people, you know? They have a livelihood
    and they like the sea and they kind of have a
    respect for each other. So it could be his
    uncles or it could be somebody that knows him, right? Yeah. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Sorry about that. Huh? [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] They’re like, shit. I don’t think they knew
    that we [INAUDIBLE] Yeah. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Brady, it’s true? You got to have picture of– Yes, on my phone. On your phone? Yes. You can show me the face? Yes. Yeah. Yeah, we can. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Things are happening. I don’t know what but people
    are gathering and talking. We’re going to carry
    it on to dry land. Only one guy, no? Yeah, one guy. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] I don’t know what
    they’re saying but it sounds– they said a few names. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Is he black? Yes. Yes. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Maybe young, young too. Yeah, he’s young. 20 maybe. 20. About 20. Yeah. Or something. Not much more. You don’t know? Or you recognize him,
    but don’t know the name? [INAUDIBLE] Yes, yes. Yeah, we know his name. Oh you do? And he’s the guy who
    makes something wrong here every time, every time. Last night only one
    person, just him. Yeah. Yeah. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] I know this face. I know this face. Yeah? I’m 80% sure. Yeah? I’m 80% sure. Who’s the canoe? Huh? Who does the canoe. This canoe is for the man who
    will help you to bring it here. The man who has the cab. I asked him who
    asked you yesterday for the [NON-ENGLISH]. Anyone ask to ask me
    for the [NON-ENGLISH],, he just kept the [NON-ENGLISH] Do you think he stole
    it last night from– Yeah he stole this
    [NON-ENGLISH] and– OK, so those kids had no idea. They were just like, my dad told
    me to come get his canoe back. And we were like, no, it’s ours. So we were apparently
    80% sure who the thief was by this point. Over the past year,
    things had gone missing from a few other yachts. In fact, our friends had
    their laptops stolen not long before this incident. The system here in
    Madagascar is a bit different than most places. Matters like this
    would normally be taken care of by the village itself. They call the village justice
    and it actually works really well for crime prevention. If you’re caught
    doing something wrong, you are shamed and
    possibly beaten. If the offense is really
    bad and you’re directly affecting the livelihood
    of the other villagers, there’s a chance
    you will be killed. There is no room for dishonesty
    among the culture here. But we were foreigners, and
    the last thing we wanted was to get mixed up
    in village justice. So we called the police. We called the police. Yeah. And we’re going to show them
    this guy and the picture [? of you ?] and then– So Bruce called the local
    [? agent ?] [? amery, ?] the local police department and
    his friend that is the police officer there. So they don’t feel the
    need to come down here. Bruce said that we’ll make a
    report, print the pictures, and then we’ll come and
    we’ll give it to Bruce and he’ll translate it in to
    Malagasy and then he’ll go and he’ll take it to the
    police station later today. OK. So– And then we’ll see. If Bruce wants to do that. It’s not like we’re– Yeah, no, he said
    this is the best plan. Or else he said it’s
    just like you just leave it and you’re
    just, OK, well let’s just be lazy about it and he said– And then he’s going to be
    out there next month, too. Yeah. We’re about to go in and
    give our official statement. Da da da. Wherever that is. [INAUDIBLE] And I’ve printed
    out some pictures of our little [BLEEP]. It totally looks like a
    wanted poster, doesn’t it? It does. And Brian put this little
    thing together just in case the police have a
    computer with a USB. The thief of Madagascar. We weren’t the first people
    to have problems around here. Everyone from the
    local village was pretty sure they knew who
    was causing all the trouble. The only problem was no
    one could ever prove it. Everyone wanted to come and have
    a look at the thief in action. So Bruce has just finished
    translating everything into Malagasy and he even
    wrote on behalf of the marina, too, how important the
    matter is because it’s not normal around here
    and it ruins tourism and it ruins
    sailors coming here. It’s a beautiful place and
    if one person can ruin it, nobody will come here anymore. And they understand that
    here for tourism, you know? So all the local
    fishermen around here and everybody that
    works here and everybody in the closest
    village is very, very against this sort of thing. I think we’ll go to
    the police station. The police station
    in [NON-ENGLISH].. OK. Just five kilometer or
    six kilometer from here. OK, not far. They won’t let us film
    in the police station anyway so we’ll just go and
    turn this stuff in and see what they say. Sounds good. Maitenant? Yes. OK. The story. So– Oui, oui, oui. So Bruce took me to the police
    department in [INAUDIBLE] way on the top of the
    hill somewhere. And we gave them the
    form and the photos and it was pretty cool. They had computers in
    there so I was able to– and he had a hard drive
    so I used the tablet and transferred the video
    and they loved it, man. They were trotting around
    watching the video like, oh, look at him. Laughing their ass off. And they said, we need to
    go see the local security force because the police–
    there is not enough police to do anything about it. Yeah. But there’s like a private
    security force that’s here. It’s 30,000 ariary per
    security guy to go capture him. So how many security guys? Three? Three. So now I go with
    this man to find him. If he’s really at
    home or not and then I phone them and come
    now and they [INAUDIBLE].. We need to capture him,
    he’s bad for the clients, for the tourism, and
    that’s really bad for us too here for the marina. And for the future of the
    marina it’s very, very bad. Yeah. And we need to make some
    example, something like that. The little [INAUDIBLE],, the
    Windows tablet, game changer. High five. They were like, what? You caught it on video? Never seen any crime
    caught on video before. And it’s on this
    little tablet thing? Like, what? And then the guy
    has a hard drive and he’s like, put it on here? I was like, yeah. They were like, whoa. And then he watched it on
    his computer like 10 times. He was like, aw, look
    at him, ha ha ha. Luis. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] OK. OK, so they said that
    they captured him. So it sounds like– oh no, no [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]. It sounds like they
    got him, I think. And he’s like, they’re going
    to meet at the local police station just up
    here for us so if we want to go and make sure it’s
    him we can have a look at him. Let’s go. Let’s do it. So we’re going to organize
    a taxi to go up there. It’s kind of weird because
    you never really, like– You never get closer. You never get closure. I think– That’s what the
    guy was telling me. It’s like, we
    never get a reason, we never know who it
    is, we never have– They wake up and
    their shit’s gone. Maybe they see
    somebody swimming away but they never can capture it
    and they don’t know who it is. And if this is the guy
    then it’s great, man. It’s kind of like
    an episode of Cops. And then things got
    even more bizarre. We met Bruce on the
    side of the road. A few guys who we assume to
    be the private security force piled into the back
    of the taxi with us. It turns out one of those
    dudes was the thief. What’s up Bruce Bruce? Yeah? How are you? Fine, and you? Yes. The man is just here. So– Yeah, that’s the one. From last night? Oui? Yeah. Are you sure? Yeah. Yep. The same dude we were
    chasing in the dinghy and swinging paddles
    at last night was sitting right
    next to Greg and Brian in the back of the taxi. And you guys? Are you sure? I need to see him in the light. OK, hold on. Wed need you to
    put the light on. Put the light. I can see your– Video. Yeah, yeah. Oui, oui. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Yeah. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Yeah, I mean, look at that one. Oui, oui. As soon as I saw him
    and the light, I– Yeah. I see. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Cool, man. Well Madagascar
    justice actually works. Who knows what’s going
    to happen after this. And it was civilized
    justice, so far. Very civilized. Nobody’s– I mean, he just– Nobody– We got in the taxi with
    him which surprised me. That’s kind of awkward. That was a little awkward. You’re like, dude, I was trying
    to smash your face in last night and catch you in the
    jungle and now you’re– And now we’re paying for
    a taxi ride to take you to the [NON-ENGLISH]. Yeah. OK. It’s very weird situation. I think– I’m glad the girls didn’t come. [INAUDIBLE] They would have been
    like sitting in your lap with him next to them. I think that’s a
    bit traumatizing. Yeah. Yeah. Looks like he accept. He accepted. He accept. He says, it was me. To be there on the boat. OK. He said it was him last night. Confession, 100%. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] OK, go. OK, OK, OK. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] So he accept. He accept. He admitted. Accept. Yeah, yeah, accept. Because he don’t want to– because the [INAUDIBLE]
    they force him, they force him again and
    again and he accept finally, you know? And they know the
    [NON-ENGLISH] on his face– From the fight. Yeah. Yeah. But let’s go now. OK, let’s go now. We did good today. Yeah. The thief ended up
    spending about two months in the local jail. After learning more
    about him it turned out he was a young
    father without a job and was trying to make ends
    meet and provide for his family. This is in no way an
    excuse, but his story is pretty universal worldwide. Just like in every
    other city in the world, if you leave things of value
    around or leave your house or car unlocked,
    there’s bound to be an opportunistic
    thief looking to take advantage of the situation. The friendliness and
    honesty of the locals here reminded us that Nosy
    Be, Madagascar is just like everywhere
    else in the world– 99% friendly, honest, and safe. Unfortunately, all it
    takes is one incident for word to spread and people
    to have a preconceived notion about a place. We have never found
    Madagascar to be dangerous and will not let this
    one-off experience change our perception of this
    paradise we love so much. So, it is our last dinner. Oh, shit. The last supper. I cannot believe. How do you guys feel about
    inviting a bunch of strangers on your boat? Just us. Oh yeah, we were
    kindred spirits before. I feel like I already knew you. I already knew you guys. Are we wicked awesome? Wicked awesome. Yeah. Wicked smart. Wicked smart. Thank you guys for
    being such a good crew. [MUSIC PLAYING] So, it’s 6:30 in the morning. I just woke up and
    we fly out today. And I don’t know if
    I’m ready to fly out. There’s been quite a lot
    of commotion the past day. And we had somebody
    try and steal Maggie. I was kind of, pretty
    shaken up by at first, just to be woken up by
    somebody else on the boat. Then you have mornings
    like this that are so calm and there’s such a
    beautiful sunrise and there’s already fishermen
    waving and so many happy people that it’s like, you
    just know it’s going to be OK. I just want to say,
    thank you guys. And I’m going to
    miss you all a lot. [BLEEP] But no tears because
    adventures will happen again. Everything’s packed. Sadly. Unfortunately. I know. Thank you so much for having us. It was such a pleasure to meet
    you guys and we will see you in [? Aman. ?] All right, it sounds good. Thank you so much. Our pleasure. It was awesome. You guys were an awesome crew. Thank you. Great crew. So much. You fit in so well. [INAUDIBLE] sad. Absolute legends, mate. It was a wicked awesome trip. Wicked awesome kid. Dude. Dude, it was killer. Bye, see you soon. Bye. And just like that, it
    was only three left. [PLAYING GUITAR] Next up on Delos– we celebrate Kazza
    birthday in style. I’m the king of the world. Not really, but
    it’s my birthday. A beautiful day
    filled with diving, exploring, and watching
    a solar eclipse. (SINGING) Count the
    stars, I’m fighting sleep. So let it wash over me. I’m ready to lose my feet. Take me out to the
    place where [INAUDIBLE] [LAUGHTER] [INAUDIBLE] First thing in the morning. It’s a wrap. (SINGING) –wake up
    [INAUDIBLE] part of me. [INAUDIBLE] I’m
    blind [? to see ?] find how far she go. Everybody got their reason. Everybody got their way. We just catching and releasing
    what beats [INAUDIBLE] today. Like it? I like it a lot. (SINGING) –your body. It flows right
    through your blood.

    #17 Spares for a sailboat trip to Antarctica | Sailing Sisu catamaran in Cape Town South Africa
    Articles, Blog

    #17 Spares for a sailboat trip to Antarctica | Sailing Sisu catamaran in Cape Town South Africa

    August 17, 2019

    Good evening last week we discussed the foldable bikes and we also discussed the scuba gear and the fins and the things that we’re going to we’re theoretically going to get. This week we’re going to discuss spares and tools and things like that and a Rum Runner Bag. So thank you very much for last week you guys have been excellent and I think that this might be the main reason why I like the YouTube community the YouTube community You guys gave us so much feedback we also subscribed I think the last time a counted was around hundred and fourteen other sailling channels and from all of this you gain so much, I think this is a new kind of university! I am busy with my double PhD , but I think we should say all these paper things is??? we should go to YouTube school Oh, don’t let google hear that just now we’ll start paying for that too Okay anyway so thank you very much for for your awesome advice and comments that you give. You might have noticed that my arm is now not anymore white, so the white thing is gone. If you look like this I can already go, you see it must go that far, but I cannot, and also if I go, how was this?, Oh yes this way, I cannot move, you see this one? doesn’t want to. And then I can move like that already and I can move like that already, so progress is is in the air I’m still very stuff as you can see Uhmm so I also use a new lens if you guys want to have a quick look here is the lens, it’s a new lens The problem is . . . Is that that lens is not auto focus so I never know whether it’s in focus or not. It doesn’t auto focus so you have to tune it, it’s like very old-school manual things. Me an very electronic gadget guy, this is a little bit out of my reference view. But as a F2 stop it’s a very very awesome lens and also a 15 millimeter lens . . . Without auto focus. Anyway, so let us see how that goes and let’s carry on with this week. So the first thing, the first tool is a bosun chair. So and it reminds me of my days when I was actually flying paragliders and also powered paragliders. It is more of a powered paraglider chair than it is a paraglider chair, but it looks like a little chair. Electric tools, electric tools, electric tools! I’ve got, I’ve got this one but I will tell you now what is the problem with this one. This is a drill, but I also got a Dremel drill which is similar, similar things so the Dremel drill is actually my favorite and is to do with my drone days when i was flying drones. The problem with the Dremel drill is that it uses this kind of socket. The european socket. So our boat will be fitted with european, this two-prong sockets, but it’s electrical, so maybe I should go for the higher one. This is the Dremel 200 and we might need to go for the Dremel 8000, the series 8000, which is a battery, lithium battery operated one. So let’s see what happens. Then I also got these little things full off, I’m not going to open it – no if I open it everything falls out, but it has sockets and wrenches and allen keys and all sorts of things in it. But maybe just for safety sake I will have maybe two of them, they’re not that expensive so we can maybe have two of them, and . . . Then some of the tools that I, oooohh I must be careful now This hand is not strong! So as an Electronic Engineer, my first degree, I will know how to use this one, so this one can measure volts, ac/dc and amperes. I think I would like to get a clampy one, the way you put a clamp over to measure the ampere so you don’t need to break the wire. So this might be a good nasty one. And it is waterproof and all of those things, but I think for currents maybe we need to have the little clamp one. Then I’ve got a glue gun, and now my other hobby is starting to come out. This glue gun I used for first person view drones, racing drones, when I was flying racing drones, this this one can go into the lithium battery drone battery. But it doesn’t have a warning, if the battery, if the battery that doesn’t have a management thing then it will drain it and you kill the battery like kill, kill, dead! dead! So it’s not maybe a good idea, but this is a soldering iron for 12 volt. Then I also have this thing here, and if you watch The Wynns just recently, they have this as well. So it’s a nice thing uuuhh magnetic. So it’s a magnetic one and you can hold it here and it can turn around corners and still do stuff!!! It also has 57 pieces of stuffies that you can use. Pretty cool. Not sure how long it will last in a salty water but that we need to find out later on. So this is the one set of tools and I think for the spanners and . . . for the spanners, and the sockets and things like that, wrenches, maybe I’ll will have two sets of each, for in case one drops overboard, sounds like everyone is doing that quite often. So that’s it for that. I will look for tools that has lithium batteries so everything will be charged. So drills saws, uuhm grinders and things like that. So rather do that. Then a Chain counter? Another tool that I was thinking of is a chain counter. Chain counter, and the reason is The leopards 45 doesn’t have a big space for counting, or actually watching, even if you mark your chain to see the chain going out I don’t think it is . . . It’s that wIde, that you can actually quickly see how much scope you put out so I will drop the anchor look at the counter and then from there make five times more or three times or seven times depends on on the conditions of the sea. So I think a chain counter is good. Then a sewing machine. So sewing machine, we are thinking of doing the same as Ruby Rose. Uuhm, they’ve got a Sailrite, and it looked very good for us, and in Cape Town that’s almost the top of the range to do in Cape Town. Cape Town has a lot of sail makers, Cape of Storms, so they do repair a lot of sails. And then another . . . talking about sails, what about a sail repair kit? So in a sail repair kit we’ve got, I think I will put a manual in there so I know how to fix the sails. So and they’ve got the needles and then they’ve got this hand thing that you put on with a steel plate or a bobbin thing in that you can press the needle through that. So if the Sailrite machine conks, or there’s no electricity or for whatever reason then I can still manually fix the sail. And then you get these strips of Dacron and you get these strips of double-sided glue things. Basting tape, so get double-sided basting tape so that is also that I will get. I will also get like different spools of cotton. Either a big one that is not treated and you have a little wax, soapy thing to treat it or the threat is already, already treated for ultraviolet and things like that. So it depends on where you want to use it you can use it, it is just that some of them are expensive and others is very cheap so. So also leather that you . . . I think in the kit, I think there should be like a piece of leather and I didn’t know what it was for but at the clue, at the corners of the sail, you can actually then, if the corner has been stripped or broken or torn like ripped out then you can actually use, if you want to make a new corner you need to have to put leather in on both sides. Stitch it up with Dacron and it will actually strengthen the sail and then you can make a new hole, new punch also. We will also have the grommet thingy, a Jimmy grommet thingy so a jiffy grommet thingy to also do the grommets, maybe also for the eyelids, for the reefing lines so that will be there. We will have a couple of ropes and I’m not sure about ropes, so I was thinking, and I’ve just read now on the Leopard, the Leopard Owners Group That some of the halyards they replaced with another one, which is stronger but more expensive as well. But it goes faster through this thing, so the sail drops faster so I will look at that one. A Dyneema rope and, so this is a new thing, so I need to understand what that is But I might maybe buy those and then use the halyards and things that comes, the lines that comes with the running rigging that it is coming with, and maybe then replace it with this Dyneema lines or ropes. So we will have a few extra ropes. Sail ties! I would like to have sail ties. If you have a furling, and I will have a furling system and the furler is connected up and the lines is starting to, the sheets is busy, the wind pulled and pulled them and whatever, the water came over and pulled them and it is a little bit opening, and if it’s opening a little bit the wind can catch it and then it goes. So I would like to put sail ties there so it doesn’t go by itself. And so for that maybe a few spare sail ties. Then shackles, I think we will need a lot of shackles and, blocks, for I think we have blocks that we can put in for the Code 0, that I think it is coming with the boat. But I also want to have spare ones for in case they break and also pulleys, so we will see from Leopard what they have and then just maybe take exactly the same ones and have a couple of spares for them. And then Duct tape. A very good friend of mine one time gave this super bad joke which I cannot tell you guys but, a very good use for duck tape. So duct tape will be there and it will be different sizes, different lengths and different colors maybe. Electric spare kit. All the fuses, if there is ten 5 amp fuses and say two 10 amp fuses, then I think it’s obvious that I will not take 5 of each. So but a certain percentage of the fuses I think I will have in a box and then lux? If you need to cut a wire or if the wire is getting cut Then you need to be able to clean it, so we need a wire stripper, you need to put this lux? on and maybe crimp it and also heat shrink, so I will try to get that thing so a complete electrical toolkit, repair tool kit for any electrical wires, or electrical issues that we can pick up. And of course spare electrical wire. I’ve seen also another channel where they run out of Bora bora When they needed some electrical wire and there was no electrical wire. So they had to use from another thing like I think something like a pump of which they didn’t use, and that’s the wiring that I use, so I would rather have spare wire as well for in case something like that happens. And spare pumps, spare pumps I would like to have spare pipes and those pipes is either the water, the flexible ones or the stiff ones and all, then all up bends, and if you, and if you need to cut one like if it is burst and need to cut and stitch it together again so the ones that can stitch them together. So all of those pipey things I will also put on board, and then I’ve got two Yanmar engines, so the Yanmar engines I will need, apparently Marcel said there is two sets of spares. Spare kits. So one is maybe for the first hundred hours and then after that a regular one. So I will have a couple of those on board just to make sure it. . .Because one of the things is, the first one . . . The first couple of weeks we will go through the Wild Coast, so there is going to be a lot of shakey things. The Wild Coast is Wild Coast for a reason, and we need to be able to prepare or repair things very quickly. But the second one is, depends on the year, I don’t think this year we will make it but next year December, the season to go to Antarctica is always around December. Maybe late November, but definitely you need to wait for the ice to melt. So that I will go, and that will be a long trip to go around Antarctica from, from Ushuaia from Argentina, and you go around and you get to Australia. So that is a little bit of a longer trip and you will need a lot of spares for that so that is, I need to think of that. And also then, Water Maker kit, we have a water maker kit but the water maker, not just the strainers, not just the filters, not just the normal things but also the o-rings. Not sure but we have a bunch of o-rings and Ruby Rose, there’s a link, I will put a link up Ruby Rose had a video just on all the o-rings that you have. That’s a, not the whole video and just for o-rings, but video on spares. Lots of o-rings, so I would like to have also lots of o-rings. Since we will have diving stuff, so we will also have the diving spares and spare kits which also will need a lot of o-rings. So that is the thing and then Iridium Go, I would like to have a spare Iridium Go. And if you watched Delos just this weekend they actually run into troubles because their Iridium now for the second time, I think it’s electrical error there somewhere, but for the second time now their Iridium Go stopped receiving. Now the Weather Maps, which is a problem because it’s not a good idea if you cannot get the weather maps and again if we want to cross the roaring forties and furious 50s and screaming 60s we would like to know what is the weather window, where is those low pressure cells and you need to get out of the way very fast and you need to know what is the window for that. So i don’t want to lose the weather forecast for for that. Then also a small Mantus anchor for two reasons. The first reason is obviously for if you are at anchor and your boat swinging too much and it and you might hit a wall. There’s the shore or rocks, you want to maybe anchor it there but second, and also maybe the more important one is if you are in heavy seas like the guys, I spoke to some of the guys that’s doing the Leopard deliveries from Cape Town to Australia and then they, the run line to Australia is actually cutting through the furious fifties and the sea states is 40 foot 50 foot, very high. And for that the catamarans, the Leopards start surfing very easily and they can then do a nosedive. So what I do is I take a bridle out at the back so they put on the two hulls, the two cleats, it’s like a bridle, but it’s a hundred meter rope that they put out. And this 100 meter rope, at the end they have like a shackle kind of configuration like a bridle set up and there is the anchor, and the Mantus anhor, so it’s just to keep the rope down and just that rope is enough, first of all to steer the Cat down the waves in a straight line, to keep it in a straight line But also to make sure it doesn’t start surfing too fast. So, and you need to rope to be in the water all the time. We discussed the drogue anchors with them and some of them they do make drogue anchors but I don’t like them in general so the girl that is doing always the record speed from Cape Town to Australia, she use a rope. There’s actually a video. I’ll put the link for that video there as well. Awesome footage of, it’s the only video that I saw the sea state so high! And LED’s, so all the lights is LED so we will have a couple of LED’s for the lights so if the light goes out and you can have that. And you might ask us why don’t we talk about impellers? Since I’m watching Delos and since they’ve been now replacing these impellers at a furious rate! Why don’t? So I was, I was in a long discussion with Brent from Catamaran Impi, and this topic came up, because he has a video and I can post that link here as well, where he actually threw the impellers out. Actually the whole water pump system he’s kind of like thrown out and put a electrical pump there, so the electrical pump, the moment the alternators kick in the electrical pump is then started by the alternators and it starts, the water starts circulate. You can look in the video but I will also show you guys the moment we install it and how we install it. That’ll be like another couple of videos. So no impellers! We will replace it even before we leave Cape Town to make sure we don’t need impellers. But we’ll need then extra spare water pumps to make sure that they are all there. They say I need spare props. I’ll have some spare props for the dinghy and for the boat. If you do hit a rock you need to replace your props. So i will have spare props as well. So where are we going to put all of these things you may ask, and I may answer you so if you look at this video clip. So you go down on a starboard side and this is where we’re going to put the spares. Yes you’re right, this is not a four cabin version, it’s an owner’s version! But what about episode six! you will cry Yes that was when we were still young and dumb, now all you viewers have come up with lots of awesome advice. And we looked at other things, we actually looked at the catamaran, at a Leopard 45 at the starboard side where we can fit it in and my idea and what is actually there, didn’t work out. Also we tried to unify that two bathrooms. I’m not sure what you call them, it’s a Head and the shower right? I’m not sure what you call it now, but there’s two heads and showers, we wanted to combine them. It’s not going to work out, so we decided to go for the owners version and we will discuss that at a later video. So big changes, big, big, big changes that we did. This brings me to the Rum Runner Bag. Do you guys know what is a Rum Runner Bag? It just sounds so Caribbean It just sounds so rrrrrrrrr. I’m sure my Afrikaans accent is not making it less romantic. So a Rum Runner Bag is actually a bag to put stuff in and you . . . . there’s a little rope on top and you just pull it. And this is a Rum Runner Bag! I don’t know if you Sailors have a Rum Runner Bag. I think it’s awesome.

    House – boat from Styrofoam – DIY
    Articles, Blog

    House – boat from Styrofoam – DIY

    August 16, 2019

    Hi Guys! What’s up? I’m the Interesting and I’m Ficus In the last video with the barrel, we couldn’t enjoy sailing much So this time, we decided to enjoy to the fullest And make a floating house On the boat Let’s get started Today we’ve Dima with us again Well, we’re right now at the epicenter and picking up huge piles of Styrofoam Yes, you did it Should I go like this to the cashier? We decided to take two small carts, because for the bigger one need to walk far It seems we’ve got one more place to sit in front, it is between the seats Guys, it’s so nice at the top. I took sunbath. Enjoyed the sunshine What a cool place Yes, this place is awesome. I saw it already from there because I’m at the top Alright guys we’ve arrived to our location and if you remember, we made our stretch film house exactly at this place and today we’re going to make our Yacht Guys, this time we decided not to do this at the sea because the waves are absolutely unpredictable so we decided to sail in this picturesque place Finally we’ll sail today. Yes, finally on our houseboat We’ll make a two-layered bottom because with one layer it won’t be so reliable and after completing the bottom we’ll start making the house and the board We decided not to make the house completely with Styrofoam because the wind can easily torn it apart into pieces so we decided to strengthen the construction Well it’s some kind of But we’ll fix it later. With OSB we’ll screw the floor and attach the Styrofoam on the sides. Therefore, it’ll be reliable. At night I’ll put a grill here We won’t give you anything because you set everything on fire Guys, write in the comments would you like to see this house on fire? Big arrow pointing there Yes, it’s the biggest YouTube sign Now we strengthen the construction from below so that nothing collapse down It’s already getting dark so we’ve to stop our filming and we’ll continue tomorrow I’m a real Surfer Guys, It’s the second day and we’re again at the shop, looking for something interesting for our new house. At the new hardware store, they have such a service. Mr. Dimitri takes you through the departments. It is very cool Alright guys, we are back to our location, it’s the second day and we hope to finish it all by today. We’re strengthening the construction with such wooden angles because there will be strong wind resistance especially when we’ll place the Styrofoam all over Ficus seems to be too busy at work I like to do this Our whole construction seems like it’s divided into 2 parts. There we’ll have the house and here the boat. House- boat Here we should have a pool, just in front of our home I just admire the framework of our house because not only it turned out very classy and beautiful but also very durable As a yin-yang house and boat. House-boat, boat-house House…Boat….Boat- House Guys, in my opinion, we made a huge boat-house or house-boat. I don’t know how to call it Well, write it in the comments how it sounds better and whether it’ll be break down when we immerse it into water As you can see today all the time I’m with an umbrella, because of the scorching heat outside so as to avoid getting sunburns and I feel ill This whole process reminds me of a cartoon about a Hippo and some other animal when they built a raft. This is an old cartoon. If you know what cartoon is this, write it in the comments Guys, some filling foam dripped on my head. Now I don’t know what to do, probably I have to get bald now. Look, here Finally, we have a roof and now have a place to hide from the sun We will have a flag in our house and our YouTube button will be directly displayed on it Welcome to House on the water Oh look, how cozy it’s here Oh look, how cozy it’s here And now it’s time to decorate our house and furnish it with furniture, decorations and make this house more atmospheric Really it has got lot of space I already want to sail on it See what a beautiful view from the shore where the water flowing there, it’s shining in the sunlight and how awesome it’ll be when we’ll sail in the water Guys, I don’t believe that it we’ll be sailing on now. We worked for two hard days to complete this, and now the time has come the moment which we have been waiting for Our anchor is improvised today – a bag of bricks Yes, we wanted to make an inscription on it but we don’t have much time as its getting dark And guys I’ve made such a motor from our driller and propeller and we hope that it’ll pull our house and we will sail across the river Guys, we did it. We are sailing Wow! We’re sailing away. We’re in the middle of the river I was bit worried about the fact that the house is very big and it’ll be difficult to sail on it but everything turned out great! Look how beautiful it is there is a sunset and everything is shining. I’m so delighted sailing on this So captain shall we sail to the shore? Yes Man, it’s really working Finally, that amazing feeling when the work is completed successfully. And you can reap the fruits of your harvest We are at the middle of the river and now we’ll throw the anchor and gonna enjoy the evening and fresh air We have got a fan in our mini apartment that allows us not to suffocate from the daytime heat Now we’ll be welcoming our guests on the board Push it Wow! We’ve got 12 people inside Kids: This is so cool Aren’t you afraid? Kids: No, not really That’s good Guys, we rode with the whole company and I think now we should rest together, the kids would go home because it’s getting dark Let’s drop the anchor Senior assistant Ficus drop the anchor It’s time to celebrate with some firework I’m Harry Porter – Expelliarmus…Alohomora Guys, it was a difficult 2 days but we made a masterpiece, yeah? Yes, these 2 days’ really worth it for such a thing Yes, we got a cool boat-house We finally got what we wanted to make for a long time Precisely something on the river and today in this house as per our tradition, Dima is going to stay overnight Right on the middle of the river As always it’ll be cool video I hope I’ll survive And won’t burn our house So guys hit the likes Leave your comments below- what kind of house who want to see next? Yes, and subscribe to the channel Click on the bell Thanks for watching. See you later Bye

    Spearfishing a Deserted Island! (Sailing La Vagabonde) – Ep. 12
    Articles, Blog

    Spearfishing a Deserted Island! (Sailing La Vagabonde) – Ep. 12

    August 16, 2019

    This is Nevis Rally, and I spent week moored in Charlestown. Which is main town in the Island It was a really nice um spot very calm and the mooring was fairly cheap That’s good It’s been a very calm night no wind so Haven’t slept much. It’s been very hot even with the air scoop Just pretty much useless in these conditions, but it’s one of those very calm mornings are all just sort of spinning around The sun’s about to come up over there Love you can’t find it About the loneliness, that’s mine Mom, let’s go and have your guys [and] then I thought I ah Wonder I I bought the kids into the time about the soldier that We explored the Island which we found wasn’t too touristy which we really liked Apart from the Big resort that they built a few years ago, which we actually ended up I’m going to go to to use a faster Wi-Fi Rather than sitting in a cafe for 24 hours for a video to upload so yeah so we’ve been sneaking into these resorts and Like alone has been uploading movies. We’ve been using all their internet swimming having the odd shower and We’re even in this other oil, and we even use their gym Hey yong how’s the movie going is it uploaded? beautiful [Joes] Looking at did you get any complimentary breakfast? at night on These things here actually imitate the local wildlife. So there will be crickets and birds and stuff singing out of those things absolutely ridiculous Where did he go yourself in? What a bit of a clandestine water smuggling operation going on on some of the orange farmers up on the Murray River the One thing we love doing is voicing the sails on Anchor or when you’re moored and just leaving Completely by sail and not having to start the engine and you had sex We headed towards the next [Island] down Montserrat. We stopped at a tiny little island called [Redonda] It’s completely uninhabited and apparently really good fishing. So we were lucky enough with the weather to be able to anchor overnight Which you can’t usually do and if a swelled and wrap around the island the next day We would have loved stay for a lot longer. It’s a very cool place, so this is the map that we were given, so we’re parked about here where it says more mortar anchored, so but as we’re coming in we’re looking for a post office and a dock runs and there’s Nothing edge. I think I can say one brick over there. Yeah, that’s a few bricks, and it’s it also set Anchoring not recommended and careful of underwater rocks Sorry, [I] go in the water and how dogs swim around and I’m alone I don’t sister to drop the anchor and I’d say yeah, that’s our little patch is seen and You know through verse on up and all that sort of stuff while I was swimming around table and winery [I] think we’re all right, so The pretty foreboding looking [at] a rock mmM What’s happening? Ilona? I’m just about to jump in the water and go on a bit of a killing spree. I’m hunting lionfish today You get grumpy with the lionfish? No, there are a bit of a pest at the moment in the Caribbean and the us So you’re encouraged to kill them so I’m doing my part for the environment today. Huh good work. Yeah We can lose touch [oh] my God remember All the [vows] [Bowen] called your name Keep your stay thing of me Happy love you so many times this week Those are the girls I can’t forget the foolish the dog sees stuck the [Dark] About my uterus into one does have water the Ghajini You guys day Happy some things. I do well What’s for dinner [alley]? What do you catch me nothing [aligner]? nothing There’s no [feast] [it] There’s no fish right that’s hardly my fault all right. I’ll have another guy. [that’s] [all] [tonight] all right Well, I’ll get the plaster on the stove. Yes you What’s for lunch and Sam’s all right [snapper] Burger? So uh what we didn’t realize is nothing Apparently really good eating, so we’re going to give one a go I’ve been told how to prepare it So I’m going to show you How it’s done um there’s 13? Venomous Spines right here that you don’t want to get pricked by also, three here in the anal fin and one each and the Pelvic fins, so you want to cut those off before you go ahead All right Very blunt scissors and just last ones here All right So now you can actually treat it. Just like a normal fish and Fill it as you would Get on it Stick it on the pan. So there you go What do you think? Lionfish it’s really, not it is Good Not much other [guy] Hi, I’m soon Gonna be hungry after this It was pretty small just along for my other yeah I’m glad you like it was a taste like washing [waiting] yeah We pulled up anchor and went to leave and it was actually Jammed under a rock so rarely jumped in the water and sort of that out, and then we could be on our way to monster I’m gonna dreams and go bad Just arrived in Little Bay Just before the [sunsets]. Which is lucky enough, and Rally’s has jumped in the water to check the anchor. How is it? Cool thought come see

    WE STOLE THE BANDITS VEHICLE! Bandits Treasure Part 13💰 / That YouTub3 Family
    Articles, Blog

    WE STOLE THE BANDITS VEHICLE! Bandits Treasure Part 13💰 / That YouTub3 Family

    August 15, 2019

    – [Jordan] Previously
    on ThatYouTub3Family: – We have to camp, so we
    are camping in a tent. – This is our new home right here. I believe these are
    vials of mermaid tears. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. Okay, so they’re gonna
    know where we’re at again? – Oh, my gosh. – Whoa. Okay, come here. What was that? – Okay, shhh. (Jordan screams) What? Shh! (Jordan screaming) – [Ty] I think it’s the bandits. – Maybe. It’s facing right towards us. – [Mom] What is that? – One, two, three, four,
    five, six, seven, eight. Oh, my gosh, that’s SOS. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. (high-pitched buzzing) – We’ll check in with you next time. Whoa, somebody’s coming over there. – Guys, let us know, where should we stay, where should we stay? I don’t know, I don’t know. – Go go go go go go go. (cell phone ringing) – [Bandit] Eh, gah, what’s that? – [Bandit Leader] Bill, Henry, I need you guys to go follow that family. Get your passports ready, ’cause they’re about ready
    to leave the country. Dress like tourists. Don’t let them recognize you. Follow them. When they find the map, take it from ’em and bring it back to me. – [Bandit] Okay, boss, we’re on it. – Okay, guys, so the bandits were coming into our camp, and we had
    to sneak out of there, so we had our friends grab our luggage, pack some stuff for us. We didn’t dare go back to the house. We decided to travel, and so we came to this hotel to stay. And– – Let me lock the door. – [Mom] Yeah, make sure. – Make sure the deadbolt
    and everything’s locked. Don’t let anybody in. – [Mom] And we’re just going to hang here and try to see if we
    see anything suspicious. And then try to find a
    next part of this map. – Yeah, I brought the map with us, so we’ll check it out and see if we can, see if there’s any other clues, but we can’t go home, so. – [Mom] Yeah, so we have some friends that know where we’re at. They’re able to help us, and
    they’re watching our house, and Grampa’s taking care of our dog. – Yep, he got Logan. – [Mom] So he’s taken care of. Audrey’s back. She was not there last time. She went to friends’, and she was fine. Everything went okay with your friends. Did you notice anything? – Yeah, I didn’t notice
    any white cars, so. – [Mom] Everything was okay? – I don’t think I was followed. – [Mom] That’s good, ’cause whoo. Okay.
    – Yeah. – [Mom] So Audrey
    actually found this place for us to stay while
    she was at her friends’. – Yes. – [Mom] Because we didn’t have Wi-Fi, so we had Audrey working on securing a new location for us to go to, because we were nervous, and we called her and said
    the bandits were after us, and she got, like, got
    friends to go get things, to throw our suitcases together, to get our of there. – Have you guys, do you
    guys know where we’re at? – [Mom] I don’t know. Let’s go check out this, this is, like, actually a pretty big suite.
    – Come over here. Come over here. Let’s see if you can guess
    where we are by this. – [Dad] Oh, wow. – [Mom] Okay, so this is
    a great view for keeping an eye on any bandits and
    cars that might be coming. – [Audrey] But look. – [Mom] So, we’re, this is amazing view, and I wonder if part of the
    map goes somewhere around here, because every really cool location has always had something to do with a map. And I swear there’s almost,
    like, a horseshoe symbol on the map. We’re gonna have to look at it. But those waterfalls look kind
    of like a horseshoe symbol. Have you guys ever seen the
    waterfalls like that before? – Never. – [Mom] Okay, so we’re
    gonna have to check it out. (gasps) There is a
    white vehicle down there approaching us. – [Audrey] Oh, there’s two of ’em. – [Mom] Guys, there are two
    white vehicles down there. – [Audrey] There’s two white vehicles. They’re coming to the hotel. – [Mom] They are coming
    to the hotel, guys. Is the door locked? – Yeah. – [Dad] I think it might
    be this symbol right here? – [Mom] Oh, yeah, ’cause that
    could look like water flowing. – Water.
    – Water flowing, yeah. – [Mom] And it is in
    a horseshoe-ish shape. – [Dad] Yeah. – [Mom] Yeah, it could be. Hmm. – [Dad] We’ll have to
    study this side of the map and see what’s here. – [Mom] Okay. – There’s another white vehicle coming. – [Ty] For that. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. – [Dad] Oh, wow. – [Mom] This is so hard to tell. – [Dad] Hey, there’s
    different flags down there on the ground. – [Mom] Yes, there is some flags. – [Dad] There’s an American
    flag, a Canadian flag, and a British flag. – [Mom] Okay, well, this is
    where we’re going to hole up for a little while until, well, we’re actually
    just gonna try to solve this next part of the map. – Yeah, we’re gonna
    figure out, see if this has got something to do
    with where we are here, so I gotta get the
    magnifying glass and zoom in on this piece of the map.
    – Yes. – Let’s see if we can figure this out. – [Mom] Okay, guys, so
    we stayed up last night, and we were studying the map, and I think we have decided
    where we need to go next. – So this area of the map, I
    got the magnifying glass out, and it looks like there’s a
    whole bunch of waterfalls, and as you saw from our
    room, we could see them. And so we went and bought a tour to see if maybe we can go
    get inside the waterfall, go around the waterfall, and see if we can find out
    what this treasure here is all about. – [Mom] Because it looks like
    it’s a fall flowing down. – [Jordan] Yeah, and then
    there’s, like, the currents. – [Mom] I think we need
    to get in and around and under the falls in order
    to find something else. – We’re gonna do everything we can. Yeah. I can feel it, there’s a treasure here. – [Mom] Meanwhile, you
    guys keep your eyes open. ‘Cause you never know. – And we have to be careful, ’cause what if, like,
    we’re right by the falls? It’ll be, like, really slippery. We can’t run, so, everybody,
    keep your eyes peeled. – Well, the good thing is this is a tour, and so we’re gonna be
    around a lot of people, so I don’t think the bandits
    will be too aggressive or forward, because I
    think they’re gonna try to mingle in as well. If we find the treasure, that’s when I think we need to be careful, ’cause that’s when they’ll
    probably try to take it from us. – [Mom] That’s true. – They’re gonna let us
    do all the hard work. So, let’s stay close together, guys. – Yeah. – [Mom] Okay, guys, so
    we are going underground, and we picked up some ponchos so that we could blend in with the crowd. So now there’s no way that
    those bandits will find us. – Guys, we’re going down in the tunnels. – [Jordan] The elevator led us to tunnels. – 125 feet underground. – Oh, man, I’m worried. I hear, like, a lot of rumbling. – Okay, guys, so we’re looking for clues. Do you see any clues? Up on this ceiling are
    all these water drops. I don’t know if that has
    anything to do with, like, the mermaid tears. I doubt it. But–
    – Oh, yeah. – They’re around a lot of water. That’s all I know. – A lot of water. Start looking for clues. – Maybe the signs on the
    walls have a secret code. – [Mom] Oh. Could there be codes that we
    have to decipher on there? Do you see a pattern in the signs? Any, like, special letters that stand out? – [Dad] I haven’t yet. – [Mom] Are there letters
    that are standing out? We need to decipher. It’s noisy down here in the falls. Okay, guys, look for clues. (Jordan and Audrey screaming) Look for clues down there. Hey, you guys see that right there? – [Jordan] Hey, yeah, that’s a– – [Ty] I’m gonna throw a penny in. – We have the (mumbles). – Okay, so I saw something in the water, and it’s telling us that
    we need to go upstream from the falls. That’s where we need to
    go find the next clue, so we gotta go up river. – Ty’s gonna add in a penny
    to the water for good luck. An extra measure. Go, Ty! Whoo! – ‘Kay, let’s follow that message, that next clue is on river. Okay, guys, this is super exciting, because we have a clue
    that is now telling us that we need to go upstream,
    up the Niagara Falls, if we want to find the
    next part of this map. The next part of this clue to
    where the next treasure is. – This is insane, you guys. – So we are headed through. – It’s a long tunnel. – Oh, my gosh, where are we going? Where’s Dad going? – I’m just following Dad. – We’re kind of in a hurry now, because now that we’re finding messages, we’re worried that the
    bandits will be on our tail. So as we get closer to the treasure, we have to start hurrying a little faster. – Yeah, ’cause I’m sure
    that there’s probably gonna be some bandits
    guarding that treasure. – There’s a guy right
    over here that looks, and he keeps staring at
    us, and he’s following us. – Is that why you told us to hurry? – Yeah, I was like, “Come on, hurry,” because I wanted to ditch him. – Okay, we gotta go. – Okay, we’re hurrying. – Look, right here. – [Mom] Guys, Dad’s telling
    us to go, go, go, go, go. – Go, go, go. – [Mom] Go, guys, hurry, go, go, go. Go. Okay. – Don’t slip, guys, it’s really wet. Okay, I wanna recap on
    that last viewing porthole. I saw the moss and everything and rocks, which was weird, because
    we didn’t see that on the first viewing hole. And then I came across
    this area right here, this gate, come here. Come here, come here. It’s kinda colder over here. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. – [Jordan] And look, there’s so much moss and rocks and wood. – [Mom] What is in there? – [Ty] It’s a mine. – [Jordan] It’s so cold. – [Mom] It is freezin’ in here. Okay, guys. Do you see any clues in there? We are not going to go in there. – [Jordan] No, yeah. – [Mom] That is too dangerous, about to collapse at any moment. I wonder if the bandits
    came through there. – [Jordan] Probably. It looks like there’s
    a lot of destruction. – [Mom] ‘Cause how did they get down here? – I don’t even know. – [Mom] Okay, guys, let’s go. – Let’s go.
    – Yeah. – [Mom] Hey, Dad’s saying go, go, go. Come on, guys, down the steps. – I don’t even know where we are going, but I see light. – [Mom] Come on. I don’t know where we’re going, either. – [Jordan] Oh, my gosh. This is so cool. – [Jake] Yeah. – [Mom] Where are we? Oh, my goodness. Whoa, okay.
    – What? – [Mom] There is so much writing here. Maybe this tells us where
    we need to go upstream, ’cause the last one said just go up river. Can’t we find anything that tells us exactly where up river to go? – I’m gonna take a
    picture of the wall here so we can study this, ’cause I think there’s some clues on here. – Yeah. – [Mom] I think there is, too. Alls we know is we need to go up river, but we don’t know where. Yeah, take good pictures. Good job. Look out there, guys. – [Jordan] What in the world? – Alright, I’ve been
    able to take a picture of everything on the walls, so we can try to figure out
    any clues that might be here. We’re gonna go jump on one
    of these boats over here and see if we can get it
    from a different angle, ’cause if there is a treasure that’s hidden underneath these falls, we gotta scout out this whole area before we actually start going in. There’s actually a tunnel right here that we might go in as well. Alright, let’s round everybody up and get outta here before
    the bandits find us. Let’s go, guys. – Okay, guys, so we
    got out of the tunnels, and now we are on the ferry, on the boat, and we’re going to be
    looking for some more clues. – Yeah. – As we go close to the falls. – And we got new ponchos, because everyone is now
    wearing red ponchos, so we had to get rid of our yellow ones and grab red ones so we could blend in. – Well, yeah, we have to keep changing, so that the bandits can’t find us. So as long as we keep
    changing our disguises, whoo, I’m puffin’ up! – I think we ditched some of ’em, ’cause they’re standing right over there. – Oh, are they up there? – So they didn’t make the boat. – That’s good. – So that gives us some
    time to be able to look and see if we can find some clues. So keep your eyes out. – I’m puffin’ up. – Mom’s poncho’s, like, fully inflated. – Okay, so we’re going
    to be looking for clues as we get close. – Yep. – Whoa. Okay. Look for clues as we go into this mist. I don’t know. This is making it hard, guys. I didn’t know that
    there’d be so much mist. – Me, either. Oh, my gosh.
    – Keep your eyes open. You can do it.
    – It’s hard to see. – It’s like it’s raining already, like it’s sprinkling, ’cause of the mist. – [Mom] Do you see that mark over there? That has, like, oh, it’s a bird’s? What is that? – [Jordan] There’s a lot of
    rocks and weird formations here. – [Mom] Okay, so we’re
    looking for anything unusual. Okay, guys, so there are a
    bunch of tunnels over there. That would be the perfect spot to stash some treasure. So maybe over in one of those tunnels? That or else maybe even
    the bandits are over there. But we are still looking
    for any kind of clues that might stand out. – [Jake] Some of ’em are hiding. – [Dad] There’s a cave. – [Mom] Oh, yeah, that cave up there would be a good spot, too. Okay. Okay, but do you see,
    like, all the windows? Maybe there’s, like, a certain pattern of, like, what windows are open and where we need to go. I know, look, wow. So we’ll study those windows later. We’re gonna look back
    at the footage and see if there’s a pattern that gives us clues. – [Audrey] Do you see
    the tunnel right there? – [Mom] Yeah, there’s, that’s, that’d be a good place
    for the bandits (mumbles). Whoo. – [Dad] Alright, so we’re
    at the bottom of the falls. – It’s getting really wet in here. – [Dad] It’s really hard to see. – I’m not seeing anything, so I don’t know if it’s the tunnel that we’re supposed to look at. Maybe go into that tunnel, or maybe we have to decipher the windows. Like, how many were open, and that will tell us where we need to go. – [Dad] That could be a good idea. – [Jordan] Oh, my goodness. – I know we need to go up river, though. I don’t know about any others.
    – Look at that! – [Dad] Oh, look at that. – [Mom] Oh, yeah. – [Dad] We gotta look out for any bandits. – [Jordan] Whoo! Oh, there’s a lot of
    people right there, look. – [Mom] Oh, watch out over there, okay? – [Dad] There’s something
    blue on the rocks over there. You guys see that? What’s that over there on the rocks? – [Mom] You guys see
    something blue over there? – [Jordan] There’s something blue! – [Dad] The water’s getting really, really choppy.
    – Really choppy. – [Dad] It is so hard to squint and see. – Oh, my goodness. Okay, so there’s somebody up there who’s shaking their fist. And it’s a bandit. He looks like (mumbles). – [Dad] Up there. – I think we got way too close. I think the bandit’s upset that we didn’t, I think he was trying
    to sabotage our boat. – ‘Cause we got really close. We were actually starting
    to go, like, into the falls. – And it was rockin’, and it was crazy, so now I think we need to get outta here. I think we just need to go. – [Dad] Okay. – [Jordan] (gasps) Oh, my gosh, wait. Is that? It looks like a bandit right there. – [Dad] Hey, there’s a guy right there. He’s looking through his binoculars at us. – Yeah, do you see that? Oh, my gosh. Okay, we gotta get off this boat. – [Dad] I wonder if they
    got on the wrong boat. – Yeah, they might have. We need to go. Okay, guys, so it’s next day. We got away from the bandits. We are up river from the Niagara. And we are looking for
    different clues on the map, looking for where we need to go next to find the next part of this treasure. We think we’re very close, because looking through
    the magnifying glass closer to the map, like,
    kind of shows this area, so we have to start searching this area. This is a little bit tricky, though, because there’s a lot
    of hiding places here. – Yeah, so from our best guess, it looks like it’s at the base or around a small little waterfall on a river. I don’t know if you guys
    can see that right there in the map. But that’s from my best guess, we’ve walked here for quite a ways, but I think it’s over there. – [Mom] So we need to go over
    to this waterfall over here. – Yeah, go check it out. – [Audrey] How are we
    gonna get over there? We have to cross the stream. – Yeah, we’ll figure that out
    if we get down there. (laughs) – [Mom] We’ll get across the stream and then start searching for clues. – Okay. Let’s go check it out. – [Mom] Guys, keep your eyes open, though, because you never know when
    the bandits are following. And this is a good place to trap us. They could be waiting for
    us to do all the work, and then they come in and get
    the treasure right at the end. – That’s happened before. – So we need to just keep our eyes open so that they can’t get it right at the end. We do all the hard work. They could be here. Okay, so, Jordan decided to
    stay back at the trail head. She’s going to keep an eye
    out for the bandits there and make sure nobody’s following us while we go up and find the next part and then make our way back to her. So she’s kind of our lookout right now. – Guys, I think we found something. Okay, zoom in over there by that tree, the base of the tree. – [Mom] Really? – [Dad] I see something over there. In this… This piece of the map– – [Mom] Oh, it could be anywhere in there. – It does show a big tree right there. – [Mom] Okay, so– – You see it right there,
    at the base of that tree? – [Mom] There’s a tree
    and there’s waterfalls. I see a tree. – Okay, it’s getting busier here. There’s a lot more people. I know that the bandits
    are trying to blend in. – [Mom] Oh, they could be anywhere. They could be up those
    cliffs, looking for us. – Here, Audrey, I’m gonna go over there and try to get what I think I see. It doesn’t look like a root. – I’ll hold the map. – You see that? Can you see it? – [Mom] I see the tree trunk. – [Dad] Like, there’s a
    gap in between all the… There’s something tucked down in there. – [Mom] I mean, there
    is a lot of good places to hide over there. – [Dad] I know. – [Mom] Okay, you search that side. We will search over on this side. Let’s see if we can find anything. – Okay. – [Mom] Okay, guys. Jake, Ty.
    – Yeah? – [Mom] Will you start
    searching these rocks and see if you can find anything? Be careful, there could be snakes. – Okay. – [Mom] Audrey, keep your
    eye up on the bandits. You look up for the bandits. Boys, you start searching this cliffside. David’s gonna go over to the other side. Oh, he is going across. – David is walking on water. – [Mom] He’s walking
    across above the falls. That’s dangerous. What? Where? I don’t see where he’s pointing. Boys, are you searching? (dramatic music) What? Guys. Okay, guys, (drowned out by waterfalls). I think they are tracking us. What did you find? – [Dad] I have no idea. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh, that is so old. – [Dad] This looks old, and it’s kinda damp. I don’t know. This might be our clue
    that we’ve been looking for on the map. – [Mom] Let’s get outta
    here, let’s get Jordan. – Okay. – [Mom] Go, go, go. Let’s go, guys. (dramatic music) – Whoa. – [Mom] What? – Did you guys hear that? – [Mom] No, no, I keep hearing– – I just heard somebody yell. – [Mom] Go, go, go, go. – [Dad] Go, guys. – [Mom] Guys, go. I’m runnin’. Go, go, go. – [Audrey] We have to be careful, ’cause there’s soft edges. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. Let’s get outta here. They might be coming, guys. Can’t believe we found another
    one before they got to it. – This is awesome. Keep an eye out. I seriously, I heard some people. – Guys, we just heard a
    noise up there on the cliffs, and then somebody saw a
    shadow, a person, move from behind one tree to the next. They’re up there, they’re
    making their way down to us, let’s go. The bandits are here. – Jordan’s been texting
    me that we need to go now. – [Mom] Go, go, go. – [Audrey] She’s been texting me. – [Mom] Let’s get outta here. – Guys, I think I see some
    people right up there. There’s two guys right there. Let’s go, let’s go. Let’s go. Alright, we parked back there, but we can’t go that way,
    because the bandits are there, so we’re running down the trail. We don’t know where it’s taking us. We’re hoping that we can
    either get in a public spot or that we can find
    maybe a bus or a train, something to get on to get out of here, because I think those guys
    want the map that we found. And I don’t think they’re messing around. Let’s go. (dramatic music) – [Mom] (mumbles) – [Jake] Mom, they’re coming. – Guys, guys, there is a truck up here. – [Audrey] No. – I just saw two guys get out
    of it that look like bandits. – [Mom] Yeah. – Guys, I think maybe we
    should try to take it. Let’s hope that they left the keys. – Where’s Jordan? – Jordan is down at the
    other part of the trail. – [Mom] We’ll get her. – We’ll go get here. Guys, so we’re gonna go try to jump in the bandits’ vehicle. Hopefully they left the keys in it. Be quiet. Let’s go a s fast as we can. You guys ready? – I can’t believe we’re doing this. Oh, no. We’re getting in the bandits’ car? – [Mom] Shh, just (gasps). – It’s right there. – [Mom] Shh. – Let’s be careful, ’cause
    there’s people around here, and they might be the bandits, ’cause I saw two guys
    just walk off to the side. That’s the one we’re gonna try to get into is that white one right there. – [Mom] Okay, let’s go. (dramatic music) – [Jake] Come on, guys, come on. Mom, get in here. – [Mom] Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming. Okay. – Guys, the keys were just sitting right here on the console. Let’s get outta here. Get your seat belts on. – [Mom] Guys, mine’s blocked. Let’s go get Jordan. – There’s two guys right there. – [Mom] Go, go! – [Audrey] Go, Dad. – They’re right there.
    – Get outta here. – I’m trying, it’s not moving. – [Mom] Oh, my gosh. Are we stuck on something? – Yes. I think the bandits
    had something on there. – [Mom] Do you think they
    would track their own vehicle? – I doubt it. They’d never think that we
    would take their vehicle. Audrey, keep an eye out,
    ’cause there’s (mumbles). – [Mom] Okay, please buckle. – [Jake] Yeah. – [Mom] This might get crazy, guys. – Okay, hold on. – Or is that a bandit house? Wait, that’s where, where the, their hiding places are. – Hold on. – Whoa.
    – Oh, my gosh. – They’re throwin’ rocks at us. – [Mom] Let’s get outta here, and let’s go circle back
    around and get Jordan. – Okay, let’s go find her. (dramatic music) – Okay, you guys, so we got the map. We’ve got the bandits’ vehicle. We’re on our way to get Jordan. Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe
    this actually happened. I can’t believe we stole the bandits’ car. – We borrowed it. We didn’t steal it, we borrowed it. Trust me, we’re gonna leave it. We’re not keeping their– – They’re gonna take our car. – We are not keeping this vehicle. We’re not taking it back to our hotel. – [Mom] We just have to get
    it so that we can get to ours. We’re gonna have to circle
    back around and get ours. – Okay, guys. Whoa, whoa, there’s
    another bandits’ vehicle. – [Audrey] Okay, keep going,
    keep going, keep going. – [Mom] Go, go, go! (dramatic music)

    1: To Live on a Sailboat – The Decision
    Articles, Blog

    1: To Live on a Sailboat – The Decision

    August 15, 2019

    when I was a kid my dad’s brother left Brazil and went to live on a sailboat with his wife and I kind of grew up with the notion that it was kind of a crazy radical thing to do so to say until I went to visit him after 15 years of just hearing stories and it didn’t take me long like I think it took me a day to realize that they had it better than everyone else for less money they had basically traded some degree of comfort for a life of adventure travel contact with nature getting to know a bunch of cool people all over the world and most importantly a life of having time during your day to do stuff you know to learn stuff to read books spend quality time with your loved ones to just do whatever you want so getting to know my uncle’s lifestyle was definitely a key factor in my decision I wanted to do this I decided that I would try out this lifestyle with the only difference that my uncle is an engineer and I am not so as the first step and knowledge in my ignorance of the topic I decided to enroll in a marine technician formation course in a local community college with a pretty interesting Colombian teacher who has been instrumental in my life for the past year that’s gonna be the subject of the next video preparation so stay tuned bye yeah I got hot wing

    Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson
    Articles, Blog

    Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

    August 15, 2019

    Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Dedication To S.L.O., an American gentleman in accordance
    with whose classic taste the following narrative has been designed, it is now, in return for
    numerous delightful hours, and with the kindest wishes, dedicated by his affectionate friend,
    the author. TO THE HESITATING PURCHASER If sailor tales to sailor tunes,
    Storm and adventure, heat and cold, If schooners, islands, and maroons,
    And buccaneers, and buried gold, And all the old romance, retold
    Exactly in the ancient way, Can please, as me they pleased of old,
    The wiser youngsters of today: —So be it, and fall on! If not,
    If studious youth no longer crave, His ancient appetites forgot,
    Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave, Or Cooper of the wood and wave:
    So be it, also! And may I
    And all my pirates share the grave Where these and their creations lie! TREASURE ISLAND PART ONE — The Old Buccaneer Chapter 1 – The Old Sea-dog at the “Admiral
    Benbow” SQUIRE TRELAWNEY, Dr. Livesey, and the rest
    of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure
    Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island,
    and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year
    of grace 17__ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and
    the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof. I remember him as if it were yesterday, as
    he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow—a
    tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled
    blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across
    one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cover and
    whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he
    sang so often afterwards: “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” in the high, old tottering voice that seemed
    to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick
    like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass
    of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he drank
    slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste and still looking about him at the cliffs
    and up at our signboard. “This is a handy cove,” says he at length;
    “and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate?” My father told him no, very little company,
    the more was the pity. “Well, then,” said he, “this is the berth
    for me. Here you, matey,” he cried to the man who
    trundled the barrow; “bring up alongside and help up my chest. I’ll stay here a bit,” he continued. “I’m a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is
    what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you’re at—there”; and he
    threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold. “You can tell me when I’ve worked through
    that,” says he, looking as fierce as a commander. And indeed bad as his clothes were and coarsely
    as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast, but seemed
    like a mate or skipper accustomed to be obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the
    mail had set him down the morning before at the Royal George, that he had inquired what
    inns there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described
    as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest. He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round the cove or upon the
    cliffs with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour next the
    fire and drank rum and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to,
    only look up sudden and fierce and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people
    who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day when he came back from his stroll
    he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the road. At first we thought it was the want of company
    of his own kind that made him ask this question, but at last we began to see he was desirous
    to avoid them. When a seaman did put up at the Admiral Benbow
    (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol) he would look in at him
    through the curtained door before he entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be
    as silent as a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no secret about
    the matter, for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms. He had taken me aside one day and promised
    me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would only keep my “weather-eye
    open for a seafaring man with one leg” and let him know the moment he appeared. Often enough when the first of the month came
    round and I applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me and
    stare me down, but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me
    my four-penny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for “the seafaring man with one
    leg.” How that personage haunted my dreams, I need
    scarcely tell you. On stormy nights, when the wind shook the
    four corners of the house and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would
    see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at the knee,
    now at the hip; now he was a monstrous kind of a creature who had never had but the one
    leg, and that in the middle of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me over
    hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares. And altogether I paid pretty dear for my monthly
    fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies. But though I was so terrified by the idea
    of the seafaring man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody
    else who knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more
    rum and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked,
    old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round and force
    all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house shaking with
    “Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum,” all the neighbours joining in for dear life, with the fear of
    death upon them, and each singing louder than the other to avoid remark. For in these fits he was the most overriding
    companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for silence all round; he would
    fly up in a passion of anger at a question, or sometimes because none was put, and so
    he judged the company was not following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the inn
    till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed. His stories were what frightened people worst
    of all. Dreadful stories they were—about hanging,
    and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places
    on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his
    life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea, and the language
    in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the
    crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn would
    be ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannized over and put down,
    and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good. People were frightened at the time, but on
    looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life,
    and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended to admire him, calling him
    a “true sea-dog” and a “real old salt” and such like names, and saying there was the
    sort of man that made England terrible at sea. In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us,
    for he kept on staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that all the
    money had been long exhausted, and still my father never plucked up the heart to insist
    on having more. If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew
    through his nose so loudly that you might say he roared, and stared my poor father out
    of the room. I have seen him wringing his hands after such
    a rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in must have greatly hastened
    his early and unhappy death. All the time he lived with us the captain
    made no change whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker. One of the cocks of his hat having fallen
    down, he let it hang from that day forth, though it was a great annoyance when it blew. I remember the appearance of his coat, which
    he patched himself upstairs in his room, and which, before the end, was nothing but patches. He never wrote or received a letter, and he
    never spoke with any but the neighbours, and with these, for the most part, only when drunk
    on rum. The great sea-chest none of us had ever seen
    open. He was only once crossed, and that was towards
    the end, when my poor father was far gone in a decline that took him off. Dr. Livesey came late one afternoon to see
    the patient, took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour to smoke
    a pipe until his horse should come down from the hamlet, for we had no stabling at the
    old Benbow. I followed him in, and I remember observing
    the contrast the neat, bright doctor, with his powder as white as snow and his bright,
    black eyes and pleasant manners, made with the coltish country folk, and above all, with
    that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a pirate of ours, sitting, far gone in rum,
    with his arms on the table. Suddenly he—the captain, that is—began
    to pipe up his eternal song: “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” At first I had supposed “the dead man’s chest”
    to be that identical big box of his upstairs in the front room, and the thought had been
    mingled in my nightmares with that of the one-legged seafaring man. But by this time we had all long ceased to
    pay any particular notice to the song; it was new, that night, to nobody but Dr. Livesey,
    and on him I observed it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a moment
    quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the gardener, on a new cure
    for the rheumatics. In the meantime, the captain gradually brightened
    up at his own music, and at last flapped his hand upon the table before him in a way we
    all knew to mean silence. The voices stopped at once, all but Dr. Livesey’s;
    he went on as before speaking clear and kind and drawing briskly at his pipe between every
    word or two. The captain glared at him for a while, flapped
    his hand again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous, low oath,
    “Silence, there, between decks!” “Were you addressing me, sir?” says the doctor;
    and when the ruffian had told him, with another oath, that this was so, “I have only one thing
    to say to you, sir,” replies the doctor, “that if you keep on drinking rum, the world will
    soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!” The old fellow’s fury was awful. He sprang to his feet, drew and opened a sailor’s
    clasp-knife, and balancing it open on the palm of his hand, threatened to pin the doctor
    to the wall. The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him as before, over his shoulder
    and in the same tone of voice, rather high, so that all the room might hear, but perfectly
    calm and steady: “If you do not put that knife this instant in your pocket, I promise, upon
    my honour, you shall hang at the next assizes.” Then followed a battle of looks between them,
    but the captain soon knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling
    like a beaten dog. “And now, sir,” continued the doctor, “since
    I now know there’s such a fellow in my district, you may count I’ll have an eye upon you day
    and night. I’m not a doctor only; I’m a magistrate; and
    if I catch a breath of complaint against you, if it’s only for a piece of incivility like
    tonight’s, I’ll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out of this. Let that suffice.” Soon after, Dr. Livesey’s horse came to the
    door and he rode away, but the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings
    to come. Chapter 2 – Black Dog Appears and Disappears It was not very long after this that there
    occurred the first of the mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, though
    not, as you will see, of his affairs. It was a bitter cold winter, with long, hard
    frosts and heavy gales; and it was plain from the first that my poor father was little likely
    to see the spring. He sank daily, and my mother and I had all
    the inn upon our hands, and were kept busy enough without paying much regard to our unpleasant
    guest. It was one January morning, very early—a
    pinching, frosty morning—the cove all grey with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping softly
    on the stones, the sun still low and only touching the hilltops and shining far to seaward. The captain had risen earlier than usual and
    set out down the beach, his cutlass swinging under the broad skirts of the old blue coat,
    his brass telescope under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head. I remember his breath hanging like smoke in
    his wake as he strode off, and the last sound I heard of him as he turned the big rock was
    a loud snort of indignation, as though his mind was still running upon Dr. Livesey. Well, mother was upstairs with father and
    I was laying the breakfast-table against the captain’s return when the parlour door opened
    and a man stepped in on whom I had never set my eyes before. He was a pale, tallowy creature, wanting two
    fingers of the left hand, and though he wore a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always my eye open for seafaring men,
    with one leg or two, and I remember this one puzzled me. He was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack
    of the sea about him too. I asked him what was for his service, and
    he said he would take rum; but as I was going out of the room to fetch it, he sat down upon
    a table and motioned me to draw near. I paused where I was, with my napkin in my
    hand. “Come here, sonny,” says he. “Come nearer here.” I took a step nearer. “Is this here table for my mate Bill?” he
    asked with a kind of leer. I told him I did not know his mate Bill, and
    this was for a person who stayed in our house whom we called the captain. “Well,” said he, “my mate Bill would be called
    the captain, as like as not. He has a cut on one cheek and a mighty pleasant
    way with him, particularly in drink, has my mate Bill. We’ll put it, for argument like, that your
    captain has a cut on one cheek—and we’ll put it, if you like, that that cheek’s the
    right one. Ah, well! I told you. Now, is my mate Bill in this here house?” I told him he was out walking. “Which way, sonny? Which way is he gone?” And when I had pointed out the rock and told
    him how the captain was likely to return, and how soon, and answered a few other questions,
    “Ah,” said he, “this’ll be as good as drink to my mate Bill.” The expression of his face as he said these
    words was not at all pleasant, and I had my own reasons for thinking that the stranger
    was mistaken, even supposing he meant what he said. But it was no affair of mine, I thought; and
    besides, it was difficult to know what to do. The stranger kept hanging about just inside
    the inn door, peering round the corner like a cat waiting for a mouse. Once I stepped out myself into the road, but
    he immediately called me back, and as I did not obey quick enough for his fancy, a most
    horrible change came over his tallowy face, and he ordered me in with an oath that made
    me jump. As soon as I was back again he returned to
    his former manner, half fawning, half sneering, patted me on the shoulder, told me I was a
    good boy and he had taken quite a fancy to me. “I have a son of my own,” said he, “as like
    you as two blocks, and he’s all the pride of my ‘art. But the great thing for boys is discipline,
    sonny—discipline. Now, if you had sailed along of Bill, you
    wouldn’t have stood there to be spoke to twice—not you. That was never Bill’s way, nor the way of
    sich as sailed with him. And here, sure enough, is my mate Bill, with
    a spy-glass under his arm, bless his old ‘art, to be sure. You and me’ll just go back into the parlour,
    sonny, and get behind the door, and we’ll give Bill a little surprise—bless his ‘art,
    I say again.” So saying, the stranger backed along with
    me into the parlour and put me behind him in the corner so that we were both hidden
    by the open door. I was very uneasy and alarmed, as you may
    fancy, and it rather added to my fears to observe that the stranger was certainly frightened
    himself. He cleared the hilt of his cutlass and loosened
    the blade in the sheath; and all the time we were waiting there he kept swallowing as
    if he felt what we used to call a lump in the throat. At last in strode the captain, slammed the
    door behind him, without looking to the right or left, and marched straight across the room
    to where his breakfast awaited him. “Bill,” said the stranger in a voice that
    I thought he had tried to make bold and big. The captain spun round on his heel and fronted
    us; all the brown had gone out of his face, and even his nose was blue; he had the look
    of a man who sees a ghost, or the evil one, or something worse, if anything can be; and
    upon my word, I felt sorry to see him all in a moment turn so old and sick. “Come, Bill, you know me; you know an old
    shipmate, Bill, surely,” said the stranger. The captain made a sort of gasp. “Black Dog!” said he. “And who else?” returned the other, getting more at his ease. “Black Dog as ever was, come for to see his
    old shipmate Billy, at the Admiral Benbow inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we have seen a sight of times,
    us two, since I lost them two talons,” holding up his mutilated hand. “Now, look here,” said the captain; “you’ve
    run me down; here I am; well, then, speak up; what is it?” “That’s you, Bill,” returned Black Dog, “you’re
    in the right of it, Billy. I’ll have a glass of rum from this dear child
    here, as I’ve took such a liking to; and we’ll sit down, if you please, and talk square,
    like old shipmates.” When I returned with the rum, they were already
    seated on either side of the captain’s breakfast-table—Black Dog next to the door and sitting sideways
    so as to have one eye on his old shipmate and one, as I thought, on his retreat. He bade me go and leave the door wide open. “None of your keyholes for me, sonny,” he
    said; and I left them together and retired into the bar. For a long time, though I certainly did my
    best to listen, I could hear nothing but a low gattling; but at last the voices began
    to grow higher, and I could pick up a word or two, mostly oaths, from the captain. “No, no, no, no; and an end of it!” he cried
    once. And again, “If it comes to swinging, swing
    all, say I.” Then all of a sudden there was a tremendous
    explosion of oaths and other noises—the chair and table went over in a lump, a clash
    of steel followed, and then a cry of pain, and the next instant I saw Black Dog in full
    flight, and the captain hotly pursuing, both with drawn cutlasses, and the former streaming
    blood from the left shoulder. Just at the door the captain aimed at the
    fugitive one last tremendous cut, which would certainly have split him to the chine had
    it not been intercepted by our big signboard of Admiral Benbow. You may see the notch on the lower side of
    the frame to this day. That blow was the last of the battle. Once out upon the road, Black Dog, in spite
    of his wound, showed a wonderful clean pair of heels and disappeared over the edge of
    the hill in half a minute. The captain, for his part, stood staring at
    the signboard like a bewildered man. Then he passed his hand over his eyes several
    times and at last turned back into the house. “Jim,” says he, “rum”; and as he spoke, he
    reeled a little, and caught himself with one hand against the wall. “Are you hurt?” cried I. “Rum,” he repeated. “I must get away from here. Rum! Rum!” I ran to fetch it, but I was quite unsteadied
    by all that had fallen out, and I broke one glass and fouled the tap, and while I was
    still getting in my own way, I heard a loud fall in the parlour, and running in, beheld
    the captain lying full length upon the floor. At the same instant my mother, alarmed by
    the cries and fighting, came running downstairs to help me. Between us we raised his head. He was breathing very loud and hard, but his
    eyes were closed and his face a horrible colour. “Dear, deary me,” cried my mother, “what a
    disgrace upon the house! And your poor father sick!” In the meantime, we had no idea what to do
    to help the captain, nor any other thought but that he had got his death-hurt in the
    scuffle with the stranger. I got the rum, to be sure, and tried to put
    it down his throat, but his teeth were tightly shut and his jaws as strong as iron. It was a happy relief for us when the door
    opened and Doctor Livesey came in, on his visit to my father. “Oh, doctor,” we cried, “what shall we do? Where is he wounded?” “Wounded? A fiddle-stick’s end!” said the doctor. “No more wounded than you or I. The man has had a stroke, as I warned him. Now, Mrs. Hawkins, just you run upstairs to
    your husband and tell him, if possible, nothing about it. For my part, I must do my best to save this
    fellow’s trebly worthless life; Jim, you get me a basin.” When I got back with the basin, the doctor
    had already ripped up the captain’s sleeve and exposed his great sinewy arm. It was tattooed in several places. “Here’s luck,” “A fair wind,” and “Billy Bones
    his fancy,” were very neatly and clearly executed on the forearm; and up near the shoulder there
    was a sketch of a gallows and a man hanging from it—done, as I thought, with great spirit. “Prophetic,” said the doctor, touching this
    picture with his finger. “And now, Master Billy Bones, if that be your
    name, we’ll have a look at the colour of your blood. Jim,” he said, “are you afraid of blood?” “No, sir,” said I. “Well, then,” said he, “you hold the basin”;
    and with that he took his lancet and opened a vein. A great deal of blood was taken before the
    captain opened his eyes and looked mistily about him. First he recognized the doctor with an unmistakable
    frown; then his glance fell upon me, and he looked relieved. But suddenly his colour changed, and he tried
    to raise himself, crying, “Where’s Black Dog?” “There is no Black Dog here,” said the doctor,
    “except what you have on your own back. You have been drinking rum; you have had a
    stroke, precisely as I told you; and I have just, very much against my own will, dragged
    you headforemost out of the grave. Now, Mr. Bones—” “That’s not my name,” he interrupted. “Much I care,” returned the doctor. “It’s the name of a buccaneer of my acquaintance;
    and I call you by it for the sake of shortness, and what I have to say to you is this; one
    glass of rum won’t kill you, but if you take one you’ll take another and another, and I
    stake my wig if you don’t break off short, you’ll die—do you understand that?—die,
    and go to your own place, like the man in the Bible. Come, now, make an effort. I’ll help you to your bed for once.” Between us, with much trouble, we managed
    to hoist him upstairs, and laid him on his bed, where his head fell back on the pillow
    as if he were almost fainting. “Now, mind you,” said the doctor, “I clear
    my conscience—the name of rum for you is death.” And with that he went off to see my father,
    taking me with him by the arm. “This is nothing,” he said as soon as he had
    closed the door. “I have drawn blood enough to keep him quiet
    awhile; he should lie for a week where he is—that is the best thing for him and you;
    but another stroke would settle him.” Chapter 3 – The Black Spot ABOUT noon I stopped at the captain’s door
    with some cooling drinks and medicines. He was lying very much as we had left him,
    only a little higher, and he seemed both weak and excited. “Jim,” he said, “you’re the only one here
    that’s worth anything, and you know I’ve been always good to you. Never a month but I’ve given you a silver
    fourpenny for yourself. And now you see, mate, I’m pretty low, and
    deserted by all; and Jim, you’ll bring me one noggin of rum, now, won’t you, matey?” “The doctor—” I began. But he broke in cursing the doctor, in a feeble
    voice but heartily. “Doctors is all swabs,” he said; “and that
    doctor there, why, what do he know about seafaring men? I been in places hot as pitch, and mates dropping
    round with Yellow Jack, and the blessed land a-heaving like the sea with earthquakes—what
    to the doctor know of lands like that?—and I lived on rum, I tell you. It’s been meat and drink, and man and wife,
    to me; and if I’m not to have my rum now I’m a poor old hulk on a lee shore, my blood’ll
    be on you, Jim, and that doctor swab”; and he ran on again for a while with curses. “Look, Jim, how my fingers fidges,” he continued
    in the pleading tone. “I can’t keep ’em still, not I. I haven’t
    had a drop this blessed day. That doctor’s a fool, I tell you. If I don’t have a drain o’ rum, Jim, I’ll
    have the horrors; I seen some on ’em already. I seen old Flint in the corner there, behind
    you; as plain as print, I seen him; and if I get the horrors, I’m a man that has lived
    rough, and I’ll raise Cain. Your doctor hisself said one glass wouldn’t
    hurt me. I’ll give you a golden guinea for a noggin,
    Jim.” He was growing more and more excited, and
    this alarmed me for my father, who was very low that day and needed quiet; besides, I
    was reassured by the doctor’s words, now quoted to me, and rather offended by the offer of
    a bribe. “I want none of your money,” said I, “but
    what you owe my father. I’ll get you one glass, and no more.” When I brought it to him, he seized it greedily
    and drank it out. “Aye, aye,” said he, “that’s some better,
    sure enough. And now, matey, did that doctor say how long
    I was to lie here in this old berth?” “A week at least,” said I. “Thunder!” he cried. “A week! I can’t do that; they’d have the black spot
    on me by then. The lubbers is going about to get the wind
    of me this blessed moment; lubbers as couldn’t keep what they got, and want to nail what
    is another’s. Is that seamanly behaviour, now, I want to
    know? But I’m a saving soul. I never wasted good money of mine, nor lost
    it neither; and I’ll trick ’em again. I’m not afraid on ’em. I’ll shake out another reef, matey, and daddle
    ’em again.” As he was thus speaking, he had risen from
    bed with great difficulty, holding to my shoulder with a grip that almost made me cry out, and
    moving his legs like so much dead weight. His words, spirited as they were in meaning,
    contrasted sadly with the weakness of the voice in which they were uttered. He paused when he had got into a sitting position
    on the edge. “That doctor’s done me,” he murmured. “My ears is singing. Lay me back.” Before I could do much to help him he had
    fallen back again to his former place, where he lay for a while silent. “Jim,” he said at length, “you saw that seafaring
    man today?” “Black Dog?” I asked. “Ah! Black Dog,” says he. “He’s a bad un; but there’s worse that put
    him on. Now, if I can’t get away nohow, and they tip
    me the black spot, mind you, it’s my old sea-chest they’re after; you get on a horse—you can,
    can’t you? Well, then, you get on a horse, and go to—well,
    yes, I will!—to that eternal doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all hands—magistrates
    and sich—and he’ll lay ’em aboard at the Admiral Benbow—all old Flint’s crew, man
    and boy, all on ’em that’s left. I was first mate, I was, old Flint’s first
    mate, and I’m the on’y one as knows the place. He gave it me at Savannah, when he lay a-dying,
    like as if I was to now, you see. But you won’t peach unless they get the black
    spot on me, or unless you see that Black Dog again or a seafaring man with one leg, Jim—him
    above all.” “But what is the black spot, captain?” I asked. “That’s a summons, mate. I’ll tell you if they get that. But you keep your weather-eye open, Jim, and
    I’ll share with you equals, upon my honour.” He wandered a little longer, his voice growing
    weaker; but soon after I had given him his medicine, which he took like a child, with
    the remark, “If ever a seaman wanted drugs, it’s me,” he fell at last into a heavy, swoon-like
    sleep, in which I left him. What I should have done had all gone well
    I do not know. Probably I should have told the whole story
    to the doctor, for I was in mortal fear lest the captain should repent of his confessions
    and make an end of me. But as things fell out, my poor father died
    quite suddenly that evening, which put all other matters on one side. Our natural distress, the visits of the neighbours,
    the arranging of the funeral, and all the work of the inn to be carried on in the meanwhile
    kept me so busy that I had scarcely time to think of the captain, far less to be afraid
    of him. He got downstairs next morning, to be sure,
    and had his meals as usual, though he ate little and had more, I am afraid, than his
    usual supply of rum, for he helped himself out of the bar, scowling and blowing through
    his nose, and no one dared to cross him. On the night before the funeral he was as
    drunk as ever; and it was shocking, in that house of mourning, to hear him singing away
    at his ugly old sea-song; but weak as he was, we were all in the fear of death for him,
    and the doctor was suddenly taken up with a case many miles away and was never near
    the house after my father’s death. I have said the captain was weak, and indeed
    he seemed rather to grow weaker than regain his strength. He clambered up and down stairs, and went
    from the parlour to the bar and back again, and sometimes put his nose out of doors to
    smell the sea, holding on to the walls as he went for support and breathing hard and
    fast like a man on a steep mountain. He never particularly addressed me, and it
    is my belief he had as good as forgotten his confidences; but his temper was more flighty,
    and allowing for his bodily weakness, more violent than ever. He had an alarming way now when he was drunk
    of drawing his cutlass and laying it bare before him on the table. But with all that, he minded people less and
    seemed shut up in his own thoughts and rather wandering. Once, for instance, to our extreme wonder,
    he piped up to a different air, a kind of country love-song that he must have learned
    in his youth before he had begun to follow the sea. So things passed until, the day after the
    funeral, and about three o’clock of a bitter, foggy, frosty afternoon, I was standing at
    the door for a moment, full of sad thoughts about my father, when I saw someone drawing
    slowly near along the road. He was plainly blind, for he tapped before
    him with a stick and wore a great green shade over his eyes and nose; and he was hunched,
    as if with age or weakness, and wore a huge old tattered sea-cloak with a hood that made
    him appear positively deformed. I never saw in my life a more dreadful-looking
    figure. He stopped a little from the inn, and raising
    his voice in an odd sing-song, addressed the air in front of him, “Will any kind friend
    inform a poor blind man, who has lost the precious sight of his eyes in the gracious
    defence of his native country, England—and God bless King George!—where or in what
    part of this country he may now be?” “You are at the Admiral Benbow, Black Hill
    Cove, my good man,” said I. “I hear a voice,” said he, “a young voice. Will you give me your hand, my kind young
    friend, and lead me in?” I held out my hand, and the horrible, soft-spoken,
    eyeless creature gripped it in a moment like a vise. I was so much startled that I struggled to
    withdraw, but the blind man pulled me close up to him with a single action of his arm. “Now, boy,” he said, “take me in to the captain.” “Sir,” said I, “upon my word I dare not.” “Oh,” he sneered, “that’s it! Take me in straight or I’ll break your arm.” And he gave it, as he spoke, a wrench that
    made me cry out. “Sir,” said I, “it is for yourself I mean. The captain is not what he used to be. He sits with a drawn cutlass. Another gentleman—” “Come, now, march,” interrupted he; and I
    never heard a voice so cruel, and cold, and ugly as that blind man’s. It cowed me more than the pain, and I began
    to obey him at once, walking straight in at the door and towards the parlour, where our
    sick old buccaneer was sitting, dazed with rum. The blind man clung close to me, holding me
    in one iron fist and leaning almost more of his weight on me than I could carry. “Lead me straight up to him, and when I’m
    in view, cry out, ‘Here’s a friend for you, Bill.’ If you don’t, I’ll do this,” and with that
    he gave me a twitch that I thought would have made me faint. Between this and that, I was so utterly terrified
    of the blind beggar that I forgot my terror of the captain, and as I opened the parlour
    door, cried out the words he had ordered in a trembling voice. The poor captain raised his eyes, and at one
    look the rum went out of him and left him staring sober. The expression of his face was not so much
    of terror as of mortal sickness. He made a movement to rise, but I do not believe
    he had enough force left in his body. “Now, Bill, sit where you are,” said the beggar. “If I can’t see, I can hear a finger stirring. Business is business. Hold out your left hand. Boy, take his left hand by the wrist and bring
    it near to my right.” We both obeyed him to the letter, and I saw
    him pass something from the hollow of the hand that held his stick into the palm of
    the captain’s, which closed upon it instantly. “And now that’s done,” said the blind man;
    and at the words he suddenly left hold of me, and with incredible accuracy and nimbleness,
    skipped out of the parlour and into the road, where, as I still stood motionless, I could
    hear his stick go tap-tap-tapping into the distance. It was some time before either I or the captain
    seemed to gather our senses, but at length, and about at the same moment, I released his
    wrist, which I was still holding, and he drew in his hand and looked sharply into the palm. “Ten o’clock!” he cried. “Six hours. We’ll do them yet,” and he sprang to his feet. Even as he did so, he reeled, put his hand
    to his throat, stood swaying for a moment, and then, with a peculiar sound, fell from
    his whole height face foremost to the floor. I ran to him at once, calling to my mother. But haste was all in vain. The captain had been struck dead by thundering
    apoplexy. It is a curious thing to understand, for I
    had certainly never liked the man, though of late I had begun to pity him, but as soon
    as I saw that he was dead, I burst into a flood of tears. It was the second death I had known, and the
    sorrow of the first was still fresh in my heart. Chapter 4 – The Sea-chest I LOST no time, of course, in telling my mother
    all that I knew, and perhaps should have told her long before, and we saw ourselves at once
    in a difficult and dangerous position. Some of the man’s money—if he had any—was
    certainly due to us, but it was not likely that our captain’s shipmates, above all the
    two specimens seen by me, Black Dog and the blind beggar, would be inclined to give up
    their booty in payment of the dead man’s debts. The captain’s order to mount at once and ride
    for Doctor Livesey would have left my mother alone and unprotected, which was not to be
    thought of. Indeed, it seemed impossible for either of
    us to remain much longer in the house; the fall of coals in the kitchen grate, the very
    ticking of the clock, filled us with alarms. The neighbourhood, to our ears, seemed haunted
    by approaching footsteps; and what between the dead body of the captain on the parlour
    floor and the thought of that detestable blind beggar hovering near at hand and ready to
    return, there were moments when, as the saying goes, I jumped in my skin for terror. Something must speedily be resolved upon,
    and it occurred to us at last to go forth together and seek help in the neighbouring
    hamlet. No sooner said than done. Bare-headed as we were, we ran out at once
    in the gathering evening and the frosty fog. The hamlet lay not many hundred yards away,
    though out of view, on the other side of the next cove; and what greatly encouraged me,
    it was in an opposite direction from that whence the blind man had made his appearance
    and whither he had presumably returned. We were not many minutes on the road, though
    we sometimes stopped to lay hold of each other and hearken. But there was no unusual sound—nothing but
    the low wash of the ripple and the croaking of the inmates of the wood. It was already candle-light when we reached
    the hamlet, and I shall never forget how much I was cheered to see the yellow shine in doors
    and windows; but that, as it proved, was the best of the help we were likely to get in
    that quarter. For—you would have thought men would have
    been ashamed of themselves—no soul would consent to return with us to the Admiral Benbow. The more we told of our troubles, the more—man,
    woman, and child—they clung to the shelter of their houses. The name of Captain Flint, though it was strange
    to me, was well enough known to some there and carried a great weight of terror. Some of the men who had been to field-work
    on the far side of the Admiral Benbow remembered, besides, to have seen several strangers on
    the road, and taking them to be smugglers, to have bolted away; and one at least had
    seen a little lugger in what we called Kitt’s Hole. For that matter, anyone who was a comrade
    of the captain’s was enough to frighten them to death. And the short and the long of the matter was,
    that while we could get several who were willing enough to ride to Dr. Livesey’s, which lay
    in another direction, not one would help us to defend the inn. They say cowardice is infectious; but then
    argument is, on the other hand, a great emboldener; and so when each had said his say, my mother
    made them a speech. She would not, she declared, lose money that
    belonged to her fatherless boy; “If none of the rest of you dare,” she said, “Jim and
    I dare. Back we will go, the way we came, and small
    thanks to you big, hulking, chicken-hearted men. We’ll have that chest open, if we die for
    it. And I’ll thank you for that bag, Mrs. Crossley,
    to bring back our lawful money in.” Of course I said I would go with my mother,
    and of course they all cried out at our foolhardiness, but even then not a man would go along with
    us. All they would do was to give me a loaded
    pistol lest we were attacked, and to promise to have horses ready saddled in case we were
    pursued on our return, while one lad was to ride forward to the doctor’s in search of
    armed assistance. My heart was beating finely when we two set
    forth in the cold night upon this dangerous venture. A full moon was beginning to rise and peered
    redly through the upper edges of the fog, and this increased our haste, for it was plain,
    before we came forth again, that all would be as bright as day, and our departure exposed
    to the eyes of any watchers. We slipped along the hedges, noiseless and
    swift, nor did we see or hear anything to increase our terrors, till, to our relief,
    the door of the Admiral Benbow had closed behind us. I slipped the bolt at once, and we stood and
    panted for a moment in the dark, alone in the house with the dead captain’s body. Then my mother got a candle in the bar, and
    holding each other’s hands, we advanced into the parlour. He lay as we had left him, on his back, with
    his eyes open and one arm stretched out. “Draw down the blind, Jim,” whispered my mother;
    “they might come and watch outside. And now,” said she when I had done so, “we
    have to get the key off that; and who’s to touch it, I should like to know!” and she
    gave a kind of sob as she said the words. I went down on my knees at once. On the floor close to his hand there was a
    little round of paper, blackened on the one side. I could not doubt that this was the black
    spot; and taking it up, I found written on the other side, in a very good, clear hand,
    this short message: “You have till ten tonight.” “He had till ten, Mother,” said I; and just
    as I said it, our old clock began striking. This sudden noise startled us shockingly;
    but the news was good, for it was only six. “Now, Jim,” she said, “that key.” I felt in his pockets, one after another. A few small coins, a thimble, and some thread
    and big needles, a piece of pigtail tobacco bitten away at the end, his gully with the
    crooked handle, a pocket compass, and a tinder box were all that they contained, and I began
    to despair. “Perhaps it’s round his neck,” suggested my
    mother. Overcoming a strong repugnance, I tore open
    his shirt at the neck, and there, sure enough, hanging to a bit of tarry string, which I
    cut with his own gully, we found the key. At this triumph we were filled with hope and
    hurried upstairs without delay to the little room where he had slept so long and where
    his box had stood since the day of his arrival. It was like any other seaman’s chest on the
    outside, the initial “B” burned on the top of it with a hot iron, and the corners somewhat
    smashed and broken as by long, rough usage. “Give me the key,” said my mother; and though
    the lock was very stiff, she had turned it and thrown back the lid in a twinkling. A strong smell of tobacco and tar rose from
    the interior, but nothing was to be seen on the top except a suit of very good clothes,
    carefully brushed and folded. They had never been worn, my mother said. Under that, the miscellany began—a quadrant,
    a tin canikin, several sticks of tobacco, two brace of very handsome pistols, a piece
    of bar silver, an old Spanish watch and some other trinkets of little value and mostly
    of foreign make, a pair of compasses mounted with brass, and five or six curious West Indian
    shells. I have often wondered since why he should
    have carried about these shells with him in his wandering, guilty, and hunted life. In the meantime, we had found nothing of any
    value but the silver and the trinkets, and neither of these were in our way. Underneath there was an old boat-cloak, whitened
    with sea-salt on many a harbour-bar. My mother pulled it up with impatience, and
    there lay before us, the last things in the chest, a bundle tied up in oilcloth, and looking
    like papers, and a canvas bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold. “I’ll show these rogues that I’m an honest
    woman,” said my mother. “I’ll have my dues, and not a farthing over. Hold Mrs. Crossley’s bag.” And she began to count over the amount of
    the captain’s score from the sailor’s bag into the one that I was holding. It was a long, difficult business, for the
    coins were of all countries and sizes—doubloons, and louis d’ors, and guineas, and pieces of
    eight, and I know not what besides, all shaken together at random. The guineas, too, were about the scarcest,
    and it was with these only that my mother knew how to make her count. When we were about half-way through, I suddenly
    put my hand upon her arm, for I had heard in the silent frosty air a sound that brought
    my heart into my mouth—the tap-tapping of the blind man’s stick upon the frozen road. It drew nearer and nearer, while we sat holding
    our breath. Then it struck sharp on the inn door, and
    then we could hear the handle being turned and the bolt rattling as the wretched being
    tried to enter; and then there was a long time of silence both within and without. At last the tapping recommenced, and, to our
    indescribable joy and gratitude, died slowly away again until it ceased to be heard. “Mother,” said I, “take the whole and let’s
    be going,” for I was sure the bolted door must have seemed suspicious and would bring
    the whole hornet’s nest about our ears, though how thankful I was that I had bolted it, none
    could tell who had never met that terrible blind man. But my mother, frightened as she was, would
    not consent to take a fraction more than was due to her and was obstinately unwilling to
    be content with less. It was not yet seven, she said, by a long
    way; she knew her rights and she would have them; and she was still arguing with me when
    a little low whistle sounded a good way off upon the hill. That was enough, and more than enough, for
    both of us. “I’ll take what I have,” she said, jumping
    to her feet. “And I’ll take this to square the count,”
    said I, picking up the oilskin packet. Next moment we were both groping downstairs,
    leaving the candle by the empty chest; and the next we had opened the door and were in
    full retreat. We had not started a moment too soon. The fog was rapidly dispersing; already the
    moon shone quite clear on the high ground on either side; and it was only in the exact
    bottom of the dell and round the tavern door that a thin veil still hung unbroken to conceal
    the first steps of our escape. Far less than half-way to the hamlet, very
    little beyond the bottom of the hill, we must come forth into the moonlight. Nor was this all, for the sound of several
    footsteps running came already to our ears, and as we looked back in their direction,
    a light tossing to and fro and still rapidly advancing showed that one of the newcomers
    carried a lantern. “My dear,” said my mother suddenly, “take
    the money and run on. I am going to faint.” This was certainly the end for both of us,
    I thought. How I cursed the cowardice of the neighbours;
    how I blamed my poor mother for her honesty and her greed, for her past foolhardiness
    and present weakness! We were just at the little bridge, by good
    fortune; and I helped her, tottering as she was, to the edge of the bank, where, sure
    enough, she gave a sigh and fell on my shoulder. I do not know how I found the strength to
    do it at all, and I am afraid it was roughly done, but I managed to drag her down the bank
    and a little way under the arch. Farther I could not move her, for the bridge
    was too low to let me do more than crawl below it. So there we had to stay—my mother almost
    entirely exposed and both of us within earshot of the inn. Chapter 5 – The Last of the Blind Man MY curiosity, in a sense, was stronger than
    my fear, for I could not remain where I was, but crept back to the bank again, whence,
    sheltering my head behind a bush of broom, I might command the road before our door. I was scarcely in position ere my enemies
    began to arrive, seven or eight of them, running hard, their feet beating out of time along
    the road and the man with the lantern some paces in front. Three men ran together, hand in hand; and
    I made out, even through the mist, that the middle man of this trio was the blind beggar. The next moment his voice showed me that I
    was right. “Down with the door!” he cried. “Aye, aye, sir!” answered two or three; and
    a rush was made upon the Admiral Benbow, the lantern-bearer following; and then I could
    see them pause, and hear speeches passed in a lower key, as if they were surprised to
    find the door open. But the pause was brief, for the blind man
    again issued his commands. His voice sounded louder and higher, as if
    he were afire with eagerness and rage. “In, in, in!” he shouted, and cursed them
    for their delay. Four or five of them obeyed at once, two remaining
    on the road with the formidable beggar. There was a pause, then a cry of surprise,
    and then a voice shouting from the house, “Bill’s dead.” But the blind man swore at them again for
    their delay. “Search him, some of you shirking lubbers,
    and the rest of you aloft and get the chest,” he cried. I could hear their feet rattling up our old
    stairs, so that the house must have shook with it. Promptly afterwards, fresh sounds of astonishment
    arose; the window of the captain’s room was thrown open with a slam and a jingle of broken
    glass, and a man leaned out into the moonlight, head and shoulders, and addressed the blind
    beggar on the road below him. “Pew,” he cried, “they’ve been before us. Someone’s turned the chest out alow and aloft.” “Is it there?” roared Pew. “The money’s there.” The blind man cursed the money. “Flint’s fist, I mean,” he cried. “We don’t see it here nohow,” returned the
    man. “Here, you below there, is it on Bill?” cried the blind man again. At that another fellow, probably him who had
    remained below to search the captain’s body, came to the door of the inn. “Bill’s been overhauled a’ready,” said he;
    “nothin’ left.” “It’s these people of the inn—it’s that
    boy. I wish I had put his eyes out!” cried the blind man, Pew. “There were no time ago—they had the door
    bolted when I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find ’em.” “Sure enough, they left their glim here,”
    said the fellow from the window. “Scatter and find ’em! Rout the house out!” reiterated Pew, striking with his stick upon
    the road. Then there followed a great to-do through
    all our old inn, heavy feet pounding to and fro, furniture thrown over, doors kicked in,
    until the very rocks re-echoed and the men came out again, one after another, on the
    road and declared that we were nowhere to be found. And just the same whistle that had alarmed
    my mother and myself over the dead captain’s money was once more clearly audible through
    the night, but this time twice repeated. I had thought it to be the blind man’s trumpet,
    so to speak, summoning his crew to the assault, but I now found that it was a signal from
    the hillside towards the hamlet, and from its effect upon the buccaneers, a signal to
    warn them of approaching danger. “There’s Dirk again,” said one. “Twice! We’ll have to budge, mates.” “Budge, you skulk!” cried Pew. “Dirk was a fool and a coward from the first—you
    wouldn’t mind him. They must be close by; they can’t be far;
    you have your hands on it. Scatter and look for them, dogs! Oh, shiver my soul,” he cried, “if I had eyes!” This appeal seemed to produce some effect,
    for two of the fellows began to look here and there among the lumber, but half-heartedly,
    I thought, and with half an eye to their own danger all the time, while the rest stood
    irresolute on the road. “You have your hands on thousands, you fools,
    and you hang a leg! You’d be as rich as kings if you could find
    it, and you know it’s here, and you stand there skulking. There wasn’t one of you dared face Bill, and
    I did it—a blind man! And I’m to lose my chance for you! I’m to be a poor, crawling beggar, sponging
    for rum, when I might be rolling in a coach! If you had the pluck of a weevil in a biscuit
    you would catch them still.” “Hang it, Pew, we’ve got the doubloons!” grumbled
    one. “They might have hid the blessed thing,” said
    another. “Take the Georges, Pew, and don’t stand here
    squalling.” Squalling was the word for it; Pew’s anger
    rose so high at these objections till at last, his passion completely taking the upper hand,
    he struck at them right and left in his blindness and his stick sounded heavily on more than
    one. These, in their turn, cursed back at the blind
    miscreant, threatened him in horrid terms, and tried in vain to catch the stick and wrest
    it from his grasp. This quarrel was the saving of us, for while
    it was still raging, another sound came from the top of the hill on the side of the hamlet—the
    tramp of horses galloping. Almost at the same time a pistol-shot, flash
    and report, came from the hedge side. And that was plainly the last signal of danger,
    for the buccaneers turned at once and ran, separating in every direction, one seaward
    along the cove, one slant across the hill, and so on, so that in half a minute not a
    sign of them remained but Pew. Him they had deserted, whether in sheer panic
    or out of revenge for his ill words and blows I know not; but there he remained behind,
    tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, and groping and calling for his comrades. Finally he took a wrong turn and ran a few
    steps past me, towards the hamlet, crying, “Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk,” and other names,
    “you won’t leave old Pew, mates—not old Pew!” Just then the noise of horses topped the rise,
    and four or five riders came in sight in the moonlight and swept at full gallop down the
    slope. At this Pew saw his error, turned with a scream,
    and ran straight for the ditch, into which he rolled. But he was on his feet again in a second and
    made another dash, now utterly bewildered, right under the nearest of the coming horses. The rider tried to save him, but in vain. Down went Pew with a cry that rang high into
    the night; and the four hoofs trampled and spurned him and passed by. He fell on his side, then gently collapsed
    upon his face and moved no more. I leaped to my feet and hailed the riders. They were pulling up, at any rate, horrified
    at the accident; and I soon saw what they were. One, tailing out behind the rest, was a lad
    that had gone from the hamlet to Dr. Livesey’s; the rest were revenue officers, whom he had
    met by the way, and with whom he had had the intelligence to return at once. Some news of the lugger in Kitt’s Hole had
    found its way to Supervisor Dance and set him forth that night in our direction, and
    to that circumstance my mother and I owed our preservation from death. Pew was dead, stone dead. As for my mother, when we had carried her
    up to the hamlet, a little cold water and salts and that soon brought her back again,
    and she was none the worse for her terror, though she still continued to deplore the
    balance of the money. In the meantime the supervisor rode on, as
    fast as he could, to Kitt’s Hole; but his men had to dismount and grope down the dingle,
    leading, and sometimes supporting, their horses, and in continual fear of ambushes; so it was
    no great matter for surprise that when they got down to the Hole the lugger was already
    under way, though still close in. He hailed her. A voice replied, telling him to keep out of
    the moonlight or he would get some lead in him, and at the same time a bullet whistled
    close by his arm. Soon after, the lugger doubled the point and
    disappeared. Mr. Dance stood there, as he said, “like a
    fish out of water,” and all he could do was to dispatch a man to B—— to warn the cutter. “And that,” said he, “is just about as good
    as nothing. They’ve got off clean, and there’s an end. Only,” he added, “I’m glad I trod on Master
    Pew’s corns,” for by this time he had heard my story. I went back with him to the Admiral Benbow,
    and you cannot imagine a house in such a state of smash; the very clock had been thrown down
    by these fellows in their furious hunt after my mother and myself; and though nothing had
    actually been taken away except the captain’s money-bag and a little silver from the till,
    I could see at once that we were ruined. Mr. Dance could make nothing of the scene. “They got the money, you say? Well, then, Hawkins, what in fortune were
    they after? More money, I suppose?” “No, sir; not money, I think,” replied I. “In fact, sir, I believe I have the thing
    in my breast pocket; and to tell you the truth, I should like to get it put in safety.” “To be sure, boy; quite right,” said he. “I’ll take it, if you like.” “I thought perhaps Dr. Livesey—” I began. “Perfectly right,” he interrupted very cheerily,
    “perfectly right—a gentleman and a magistrate. And, now I come to think of it, I might as
    well ride round there myself and report to him or squire. Master Pew’s dead, when all’s done; not that
    I regret it, but he’s dead, you see, and people will make it out against an officer of his
    Majesty’s revenue, if make it out they can. Now, I’ll tell you, Hawkins, if you like,
    I’ll take you along.” I thanked him heartily for the offer, and
    we walked back to the hamlet where the horses were. By the time I had told mother of my purpose
    they were all in the saddle. “Dogger,” said Mr. Dance, “you have a good
    horse; take up this lad behind you.” As soon as I was mounted, holding on to Dogger’s
    belt, the supervisor gave the word, and the party struck out at a bouncing trot on the
    road to Dr. Livesey’s house. Chapter 6 – The Captain’s Papers WE rode hard all the way till we drew up before
    Dr. Livesey’s door. The house was all dark to the front. Mr. Dance told me to jump down and knock,
    and Dogger gave me a stirrup to descend by. The door was opened almost at once by the
    maid. “Is Dr. Livesey in?” I asked. No, she said, he had come home in the afternoon
    but had gone up to the hall to dine and pass the evening with the squire. “So there we go, boys,” said Mr. Dance. This time, as the distance was short, I did
    not mount, but ran with Dogger’s stirrup-leather to the lodge gates and up the long, leafless,
    moonlit avenue to where the white line of the hall buildings looked on either hand on
    great old gardens. Here Mr. Dance dismounted, and taking me along with him, was admitted
    at a word into the house. The servant led us down a matted passage and
    showed us at the end into a great library, all lined with bookcases and busts upon the
    top of them, where the squire and Dr. Livesey sat, pipe in hand, on either side of a bright
    fire. I had never seen the squire so near at hand.
    He was a tall man, over six feet high, and broad in proportion, and he had a bluff, rough-and-ready
    face, all roughened and reddened and lined in his long travels. His eyebrows were very
    black, and moved readily, and this gave him a look of some temper, not bad, you would
    say, but quick and high. “Come in, Mr. Dance,” says he, very stately
    and condescending. “Good evening, Dance,” says the doctor with
    a nod. “And good evening to you, friend Jim. What good wind brings you here?” The supervisor stood up straight and stiff
    and told his story like a lesson; and you should have seen how the two gentlemen leaned
    forward and looked at each other, and forgot to smoke in their surprise and interest. When
    they heard how my mother went back to the inn, Dr. Livesey fairly slapped his thigh,
    and the squire cried “Bravo!” and broke his long pipe against the grate. Long before it
    was done, Mr. Trelawney (that, you will remember, was the squire’s name) had got up from his
    seat and was striding about the room, and the doctor, as if to hear the better, had
    taken off his powdered wig and sat there looking very strange indeed with his own close-cropped
    black poll. At last Mr. Dance finished the story. “Mr. Dance,” said the squire, “you are a very
    noble fellow. And as for riding down that black, atrocious miscreant, I regard it as
    an act of virtue, sir, like stamping on a cockroach. This lad Hawkins is a trump, I
    perceive. Hawkins, will you ring that bell? Mr. Dance must have some ale.” “And so, Jim,” said the doctor, “you have
    the thing that they were after, have you?” “Here it is, sir,” said I, and gave him the
    oilskin packet. The doctor looked it all over, as if his fingers
    were itching to open it; but instead of doing that, he put it quietly in the pocket of his
    coat. “Squire,” said he, “when Dance has had his
    ale he must, of course, be off on his Majesty’s service; but I mean to keep Jim Hawkins here
    to sleep at my house, and with your permission, I propose we should have up the cold pie and
    let him sup.” “As you will, Livesey,” said the squire; “Hawkins
    has earned better than cold pie.” So a big pigeon pie was brought in and put
    on a sidetable, and I made a hearty supper, for I was as hungry as a hawk, while Mr. Dance
    was further complimented and at last dismissed. “And now, squire,” said the doctor. “And now, Livesey,” said the squire in the
    same breath. “One at a time, one at a time,” laughed Dr.
    Livesey. “You have heard of this Flint, I suppose?” “Heard of him!” cried the squire. “Heard of
    him, you say! He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard was a child to Flint.
    The Spaniards were so prodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir, I was sometimes
    proud he was an Englishman. I’ve seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and
    the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back—put back, sir, into
    Port of Spain.” “Well, I’ve heard of him myself, in England,”
    said the doctor. “But the point is, had he money?” “Money!” cried the squire. “Have you heard
    the story? What were these villains after but money? What do they care for but money?
    For what would they risk their rascal carcasses but money?” “That we shall soon know,” replied the doctor.
    “But you are so confoundedly hot-headed and exclamatory that I cannot get a word in. What
    I want to know is this: Supposing that I have here in my pocket some clue to where Flint
    buried his treasure, will that treasure amount to much?” “Amount, sir!” cried the squire. “It will
    amount to this: If we have the clue you talk about, I fit out a ship in Bristol dock, and
    take you and Hawkins here along, and I’ll have that treasure if I search a year.” “Very well,” said the doctor. “Now, then,
    if Jim is agreeable, we’ll open the packet”; and he laid it before him on the table. The bundle was sewn together, and the doctor
    had to get out his instrument case and cut the stitches with his medical scissors. It
    contained two things—a book and a sealed paper. “First of all we’ll try the book,” observed
    the doctor. The squire and I were both peering over his
    shoulder as he opened it, for Dr. Livesey had kindly motioned me to come round from
    the side-table, where I had been eating, to enjoy the sport of the search. On the first
    page there were only some scraps of writing, such as a man with a pen in his hand might
    make for idleness or practice. One was the same as the tattoo mark, “Billy Bones his
    fancy”; then there was “Mr. W. Bones, mate,” “No more rum,” “Off Palm Key he got itt,”
    and some other snatches, mostly single words and unintelligible. I could not help wondering
    who it was that had “got itt,” and what “itt” was that he got. A knife in his back as like
    as not. “Not much instruction there,” said Dr. Livesey
    as he passed on. The next ten or twelve pages were filled with
    a curious series of entries. There was a date at one end of the line and at the other a
    sum of money, as in common account-books, but instead of explanatory writing, only a
    varying number of crosses between the two. On the 12th of June, 1745, for instance, a
    sum of seventy pounds had plainly become due to someone, and there was nothing but six
    crosses to explain the cause. In a few cases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added,
    as “Offe Caraccas,” or a mere entry of latitude and longitude, as “62o 17′ 20″, 19o 2′ 40″.” The record lasted over nearly twenty years,
    the amount of the separate entries growing larger as time went on, and at the end a grand
    total had been made out after five or six wrong additions, and these words appended,
    “Bones, his pile.” “I can’t make head or tail of this,” said
    Dr. Livesey. “The thing is as clear as noonday,” cried
    the squire. “This is the black-hearted hound’s account-book. These crosses stand for the
    names of ships or towns that they sank or plundered. The sums are the scoundrel’s share,
    and where he feared an ambiguity, you see he added something clearer. ‘Offe Caraccas,’
    now; you see, here was some unhappy vessel boarded off that coast. God help the poor
    souls that manned her—coral long ago.” “Right!” said the doctor. “See what it is
    to be a traveller. Right! And the amounts increase, you see, as he rose in rank.” There was little else in the volume but a
    few bearings of places noted in the blank leaves towards the end and a table for reducing
    French, English, and Spanish moneys to a common value. “Thrifty man!” cried the doctor. “He wasn’t
    the one to be cheated.” “And now,” said the squire, “for the other.” The paper had been sealed in several places
    with a thimble by way of seal; the very thimble, perhaps, that I had found in the captain’s
    pocket. The doctor opened the seals with great care, and there fell out the map of an island,
    with latitude and longitude, soundings, names of hills and bays and inlets, and every particular
    that would be needed to bring a ship to a safe anchorage upon its shores. It was about
    nine miles long and five across, shaped, you might say, like a fat dragon standing up,
    and had two fine land-locked harbours, and a hill in the centre part marked “The Spy-glass.”
    There were several additions of a later date, but above all, three crosses of red ink—two
    on the north part of the island, one in the southwest—and beside this last, in the same
    red ink, and in a small, neat hand, very different from the captain’s tottery characters, these
    words: “Bulk of treasure here.” Over on the back the same hand had written
    this further information: Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point
    to the N. of N.N.E. Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. Ten feet. The bar silver is in the north cache; you
    can find it by the trend of the east hummock, ten fathoms south of the black crag with the
    face on it. The arms are easy found, in the sand-hill,
    N. point of north inlet cape, bearing E. and a quarter N. J.F. That was all; but brief as it was, and to
    me incomprehensible, it filled the squire and Dr. Livesey with delight. “Livesey,” said the squire, “you will give
    up this wretched practice at once. Tomorrow I start for Bristol. In three weeks’ time—three
    weeks!—two weeks—ten days—we’ll have the best ship, sir, and the choicest crew
    in England. Hawkins shall come as cabin-boy. You’ll make a famous cabin-boy, Hawkins. You,
    Livesey, are ship’s doctor; I am admiral. We’ll take Redruth, Joyce, and Hunter. We’ll
    have favourable winds, a quick passage, and not the least difficulty in finding the spot,
    and money to eat, to roll in, to play duck and drake with ever after.” “Trelawney,” said the doctor, “I’ll go with
    you; and I’ll go bail for it, so will Jim, and be a credit to the undertaking. There’s
    only one man I’m afraid of.” “And who’s that?” cried the squire. “Name
    the dog, sir!” “You,” replied the doctor; “for you cannot
    hold your tongue. We are not the only men who know of this paper. These fellows who
    attacked the inn tonight—bold, desperate blades, for sure—and the rest who stayed
    aboard that lugger, and more, I dare say, not far off, are, one and all, through thick
    and thin, bound that they’ll get that money. We must none of us go alone till we get to
    sea. Jim and I shall stick together in the meanwhile; you’ll take Joyce and Hunter when
    you ride to Bristol, and from first to last, not one of us must breathe a word of what
    we’ve found.” “Livesey,” returned the squire, “you are always
    in the right of it. I’ll be as silent as the grave.” PART TWO — The Sea-cook Chapter 7 – I Go to Bristol IT was longer than the squire imagined ere
    we were ready for the sea, and none of our first plans—not even Dr. Livesey’s, of keeping
    me beside him—could be carried out as we intended. The doctor had to go to London for
    a physician to take charge of his practice; the squire was hard at work at Bristol; and
    I lived on at the hall under the charge of old Redruth, the gamekeeper, almost a prisoner,
    but full of sea-dreams and the most charming anticipations of strange islands and adventures.
    I brooded by the hour together over the map, all the details of which I well remembered.
    Sitting by the fire in the housekeeper’s room, I approached that island in my fancy from
    every possible direction; I explored every acre of its surface; I climbed a thousand
    times to that tall hill they call the Spy-glass, and from the top enjoyed the most wonderful
    and changing prospects. Sometimes the isle was thick with savages, with whom we fought,
    sometimes full of dangerous animals that hunted us, but in all my fancies nothing occurred
    to me so strange and tragic as our actual adventures. So the weeks passed on, till one fine day
    there came a letter addressed to Dr. Livesey, with this addition, “To be opened, in the
    case of his absence, by Tom Redruth or young Hawkins.” Obeying this order, we found, or
    rather I found—for the gamekeeper was a poor hand at reading anything but print—the
    following important news: Old Anchor Inn, Bristol, March 1, 17— Dear Livesey—As I do not know whether you
    are at the hall or still in London, I send this in double to both places. The ship is bought and fitted. She lies at
    anchor, ready for sea. You never imagined a sweeter schooner—a child might sail her—two
    hundred tons; name, Hispaniola. I got her through my old friend, Blandly,
    who has proved himself throughout the most surprising trump. The admirable fellow literally
    slaved in my interest, and so, I may say, did everyone in Bristol, as soon as they got
    wind of the port we sailed for—treasure, I mean. “Redruth,” said I, interrupting the letter,
    “Dr. Livesey will not like that. The squire has been talking, after all.” “Well, who’s a better right?” growled the
    gamekeeper. “A pretty rum go if squire ain’t to talk for Dr. Livesey, I should think.” At that I gave up all attempts at commentary
    and read straight on: Blandly himself found the Hispaniola, and
    by the most admirable management got her for the merest trifle. There is a class of men
    in Bristol monstrously prejudiced against Blandly. They go the length of declaring that
    this honest creature would do anything for money, that the Hispaniola belonged to him,
    and that he sold it me absurdly high—the most transparent calumnies. None of them dare,
    however, to deny the merits of the ship. So far there was not a hitch. The workpeople,
    to be sure—riggers and what not—were most annoyingly slow; but time cured that. It was
    the crew that troubled me. I wished a round score of men—in case of
    natives, buccaneers, or the odious French—and I had the worry of the deuce itself to find
    so much as half a dozen, till the most remarkable stroke of fortune brought me the very man
    that I required. I was standing on the dock, when, by the merest
    accident, I fell in talk with him. I found he was an old sailor, kept a public-house,
    knew all the seafaring men in Bristol, had lost his health ashore, and wanted a good
    berth as cook to get to sea again. He had hobbled down there that morning, he said,
    to get a smell of the salt. I was monstrously touched—so would you have
    been—and, out of pure pity, I engaged him on the spot to be ship’s cook. Long John Silver,
    he is called, and has lost a leg; but that I regarded as a recommendation, since he lost
    it in his country’s service, under the immortal Hawke. He has no pension, Livesey. Imagine
    the abominable age we live in! Well, sir, I thought I had only found a cook,
    but it was a crew I had discovered. Between Silver and myself we got together in a few
    days a company of the toughest old salts imaginable—not pretty to look at, but fellows, by their faces,
    of the most indomitable spirit. I declare we could fight a frigate. Long John even got rid of two out of the six
    or seven I had already engaged. He showed me in a moment that they were just the sort
    of fresh-water swabs we had to fear in an adventure of importance. I am in the most magnificent health and spirits,
    eating like a bull, sleeping like a tree, yet I shall not enjoy a moment till I hear
    my old tarpaulins tramping round the capstan. Seaward, ho! Hang the treasure! It’s the glory
    of the sea that has turned my head. So now, Livesey, come post; do not lose an hour, if
    you respect me. Let young Hawkins go at once to see his mother,
    with Redruth for a guard; and then both come full speed to Bristol. John Trelawney Postscript—I did not tell you that Blandly,
    who, by the way, is to send a consort after us if we don’t turn up by the end of August,
    had found an admirable fellow for sailing master—a stiff man, which I regret, but
    in all other respects a treasure. Long John Silver unearthed a very competent man for
    a mate, a man named Arrow. I have a boatswain who pipes, Livesey; so things shall go man-o’-war
    fashion on board the good ship Hispaniola. I forgot to tell you that Silver is a man
    of substance; I know of my own knowledge that he has a banker’s account, which has never
    been overdrawn. He leaves his wife to manage the inn; and as she is a woman of colour,
    a pair of old bachelors like you and I may be excused for guessing that it is the wife,
    quite as much as the health, that sends him back to roving. J. T. P.P.S.—Hawkins may stay one night with his
    mother. J. T. You can fancy the excitement into which that
    letter put me. I was half beside myself with glee; and if ever I despised a man, it was
    old Tom Redruth, who could do nothing but grumble and lament. Any of the under-gamekeepers
    would gladly have changed places with him; but such was not the squire’s pleasure, and
    the squire’s pleasure was like law among them all. Nobody but old Redruth would have dared
    so much as even to grumble. The next morning he and I set out on foot
    for the Admiral Benbow, and there I found my mother in good health and spirits. The
    captain, who had so long been a cause of so much discomfort, was gone where the wicked
    cease from troubling. The squire had had everything repaired, and the public rooms and the sign
    repainted, and had added some furniture—above all a beautiful armchair for mother in the
    bar. He had found her a boy as an apprentice also so that she should not want help while
    I was gone. It was on seeing that boy that I understood,
    for the first time, my situation. I had thought up to that moment of the adventures before
    me, not at all of the home that I was leaving; and now, at sight of this clumsy stranger,
    who was to stay here in my place beside my mother, I had my first attack of tears. I
    am afraid I led that boy a dog’s life, for as he was new to the work, I had a hundred
    opportunities of setting him right and putting him down, and I was not slow to profit by
    them. The night passed, and the next day, after
    dinner, Redruth and I were afoot again and on the road. I said good-bye to Mother and
    the cove where I had lived since I was born, and the dear old Admiral Benbow—since he
    was repainted, no longer quite so dear. One of my last thoughts was of the captain, who
    had so often strode along the beach with his cocked hat, his sabre-cut cheek, and his old
    brass telescope. Next moment we had turned the corner and my home was out of sight. The mail picked us up about dusk at the Royal
    George on the heath. I was wedged in between Redruth and a stout old gentleman, and in
    spite of the swift motion and the cold night air, I must have dozed a great deal from the
    very first, and then slept like a log up hill and down dale through stage after stage, for
    when I was awakened at last it was by a punch in the ribs, and I opened my eyes to find
    that we were standing still before a large building in a city street and that the day
    had already broken a long time. “Where are we?” I asked. “Bristol,” said Tom. “Get down.” Mr. Trelawney had taken up his residence at
    an inn far down the docks to superintend the work upon the schooner. Thither we had now
    to walk, and our way, to my great delight, lay along the quays and beside the great multitude
    of ships of all sizes and rigs and nations. In one, sailors were singing at their work,
    in another there were men aloft, high over my head, hanging to threads that seemed no
    thicker than a spider’s. Though I had lived by the shore all my life, I seemed never to
    have been near the sea till then. The smell of tar and salt was something new. I saw the
    most wonderful figureheads, that had all been far over the ocean. I saw, besides, many old
    sailors, with rings in their ears, and whiskers curled in ringlets, and tarry pigtails, and
    their swaggering, clumsy sea-walk; and if I had seen as many kings or archbishops I
    could not have been more delighted. And I was going to sea myself, to sea in a
    schooner, with a piping boatswain and pig-tailed singing seamen, to sea, bound for an unknown
    island, and to seek for buried treasure! While I was still in this delightful dream,
    we came suddenly in front of a large inn and met Squire Trelawney, all dressed out like
    a sea-officer, in stout blue cloth, coming out of the door with a smile on his face and
    a capital imitation of a sailor’s walk. “Here you are,” he cried, “and the doctor
    came last night from London. Bravo! The ship’s company complete!” “Oh, sir,” cried I, “when do we sail?” “Sail!” says he. “We sail tomorrow!” Chapter 8 – At the Sign of the Spy-glass WHEN I had done breakfasting the squire gave
    me a note addressed to John Silver, at the sign of the Spy-glass, and told me I should
    easily find the place by following the line of the docks and keeping a bright lookout
    for a little tavern with a large brass telescope for sign. I set off, overjoyed at this opportunity
    to see some more of the ships and seamen, and picked my way among a great crowd of people
    and carts and bales, for the dock was now at its busiest, until I found the tavern in
    question. It was a bright enough little place of entertainment.
    The sign was newly painted; the windows had neat red curtains; the floor was cleanly sanded.
    There was a street on each side and an open door on both, which made the large, low room
    pretty clear to see in, in spite of clouds of tobacco smoke. The customers were mostly seafaring men, and
    they talked so loudly that I hung at the door, almost afraid to enter. As I was waiting, a man came out of a side
    room, and at a glance I was sure he must be Long John. His left leg was cut off close
    by the hip, and under the left shoulder he carried a crutch, which he managed with wonderful
    dexterity, hopping about upon it like a bird. He was very tall and strong, with a face as
    big as a ham—plain and pale, but intelligent and smiling. Indeed, he seemed in the most
    cheerful spirits, whistling as he moved about among the tables, with a merry word or a slap
    on the shoulder for the more favoured of his guests. Now, to tell you the truth, from the very
    first mention of Long John in Squire Trelawney’s letter I had taken a fear in my mind that
    he might prove to be the very one-legged sailor whom I had watched for so long at the old
    Benbow. But one look at the man before me was enough. I had seen the captain, and Black
    Dog, and the blind man, Pew, and I thought I knew what a buccaneer was like—a very
    different creature, according to me, from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord. I plucked up courage at once, crossed the
    threshold, and walked right up to the man where he stood, propped on his crutch, talking
    to a customer. “Mr. Silver, sir?” I asked, holding out the
    note. “Yes, my lad,” said he; “such is my name,
    to be sure. And who may you be?” And then as he saw the squire’s letter, he seemed to
    me to give something almost like a start. “Oh!” said he, quite loud, and offering his
    hand. “I see. You are our new cabin-boy; pleased I am to see you.” And he took my hand in his large firm grasp. Just then one of the customers at the far
    side rose suddenly and made for the door. It was close by him, and he was out in the
    street in a moment. But his hurry had attracted my notice, and I recognized him at glance.
    It was the tallow-faced man, wanting two fingers, who had come first to the Admiral Benbow. “Oh,” I cried, “stop him! It’s Black Dog!” “I don’t care two coppers who he is,” cried
    Silver. “But he hasn’t paid his score. Harry, run and catch him.” One of the others who was nearest the door
    leaped up and started in pursuit. “If he were Admiral Hawke he shall pay his
    score,” cried Silver; and then, relinquishing my hand, “Who did you say he was?” he asked.
    “Black what?” “Dog, sir,” said I. “Has Mr. Trelawney not
    told you of the buccaneers? He was one of them.” “So?” cried Silver. “In my house! Ben, run
    and help Harry. One of those swabs, was he? Was that you drinking with him, Morgan? Step
    up here.” The man whom he called Morgan—an old, grey-haired,
    mahogany-faced sailor—came forward pretty sheepishly, rolling his quid. “Now, Morgan,” said Long John very sternly,
    “you never clapped your eyes on that Black—Black Dog before, did you, now?” “Not I, sir,” said Morgan with a salute. “You didn’t know his name, did you?” “No, sir.” “By the powers, Tom Morgan, it’s as good for
    you!” exclaimed the landlord. “If you had been mixed up with the like of that, you would
    never have put another foot in my house, you may lay to that. And what was he saying to
    you?” “I don’t rightly know, sir,” answered Morgan. “Do you call that a head on your shoulders,
    or a blessed dead-eye?” cried Long John. “Don’t rightly know, don’t you! Perhaps you don’t
    happen to rightly know who you was speaking to, perhaps? Come, now, what was he jawing—v’yages,
    cap’ns, ships? Pipe up! What was it?” “We was a-talkin’ of keel-hauling,” answered
    Morgan. “Keel-hauling, was you? And a mighty suitable
    thing, too, and you may lay to that. Get back to your place for a lubber, Tom.” And then, as Morgan rolled back to his seat,
    Silver added to me in a confidential whisper that was very flattering, as I thought, “He’s
    quite an honest man, Tom Morgan, on’y stupid. And now,” he ran on again, aloud, “let’s see—Black
    Dog? No, I don’t know the name, not I. Yet I kind of think I’ve—yes, I’ve seen the
    swab. He used to come here with a blind beggar, he used.” “That he did, you may be sure,” said I. “I
    knew that blind man too. His name was Pew.” “It was!” cried Silver, now quite excited.
    “Pew! That were his name for certain. Ah, he looked a shark, he did! If we run down
    this Black Dog, now, there’ll be news for Cap’n Trelawney! Ben’s a good runner; few
    seamen run better than Ben. He should run him down, hand over hand, by the powers! He
    talked o’ keel-hauling, did he? I’ll keel-haul him!” All the time he was jerking out these phrases
    he was stumping up and down the tavern on his crutch, slapping tables with his hand,
    and giving such a show of excitement as would have convinced an Old Bailey judge or a Bow
    Street runner. My suspicions had been thoroughly reawakened on finding Black Dog at the Spy-glass,
    and I watched the cook narrowly. But he was too deep, and too ready, and too clever for
    me, and by the time the two men had come back out of breath and confessed that they had
    lost the track in a crowd, and been scolded like thieves, I would have gone bail for the
    innocence of Long John Silver. “See here, now, Hawkins,” said he, “here’s
    a blessed hard thing on a man like me, now, ain’t it? There’s Cap’n Trelawney—what’s
    he to think? Here I have this confounded son of a Dutchman sitting in my own house drinking
    of my own rum! Here you comes and tells me of it plain; and here I let him give us all
    the slip before my blessed deadlights! Now, Hawkins, you do me justice with the cap’n.
    You’re a lad, you are, but you’re as smart as paint. I see that when you first come in.
    Now, here it is: What could I do, with this old timber I hobble on? When I was an A B
    master mariner I’d have come up alongside of him, hand over hand, and broached him to
    in a brace of old shakes, I would; but now—” And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and
    his jaw dropped as though he had remembered something. “The score!” he burst out. “Three goes o’
    rum! Why, shiver my timbers, if I hadn’t forgotten my score!” And falling on a bench, he laughed until the
    tears ran down his cheeks. I could not help joining, and we laughed together, peal after
    peal, until the tavern rang again. “Why, what a precious old sea-calf I am!”
    he said at last, wiping his cheeks. “You and me should get on well, Hawkins, for I’ll take
    my davy I should be rated ship’s boy. But come now, stand by to go about. This won’t
    do. Dooty is dooty, messmates. I’ll put on my old cockerel hat, and step along of you
    to Cap’n Trelawney, and report this here affair. For mind you, it’s serious, young Hawkins;
    and neither you nor me’s come out of it with what I should make so bold as to call credit.
    Nor you neither, says you; not smart—none of the pair of us smart. But dash my buttons!
    That was a good un about my score.” And he began to laugh again, and that so heartily,
    that though I did not see the joke as he did, I was again obliged to join him in his mirth. On our little walk along the quays, he made
    himself the most interesting companion, telling me about the different ships that we passed
    by, their rig, tonnage, and nationality, explaining the work that was going forward—how one
    was discharging, another taking in cargo, and a third making ready for sea—and every
    now and then telling me some little anecdote of ships or seamen or repeating a nautical
    phrase till I had learned it perfectly. I began to see that here was one of the best
    of possible shipmates. When we got to the inn, the squire and Dr.
    Livesey were seated together, finishing a quart of ale with a toast in it, before they
    should go aboard the schooner on a visit of inspection. Long John told the story from first to last,
    with a great deal of spirit and the most perfect truth. “That was how it were, now, weren’t
    it, Hawkins?” he would say, now and again, and I could always bear him entirely out. The two gentlemen regretted that Black Dog
    had got away, but we all agreed there was nothing to be done, and after he had been
    complimented, Long John took up his crutch and departed. “All hands aboard by four this afternoon,”
    shouted the squire after him. “Aye, aye, sir,” cried the cook, in the passage. “Well, squire,” said Dr. Livesey, “I don’t
    put much faith in your discoveries, as a general thing; but I will say this, John Silver suits
    me.” “The man’s a perfect trump,” declared the
    squire. “And now,” added the doctor, “Jim may come
    on board with us, may he not?” “To be sure he may,” says squire. “Take your
    hat, Hawkins, and we’ll see the ship.” Chapter 9 – Powder and Arms THE Hispaniola lay some way out, and we went
    under the figureheads and round the sterns of many other ships, and their cables sometimes
    grated underneath our keel, and sometimes swung above us. At last, however, we got alongside,
    and were met and saluted as we stepped aboard by the mate, Mr. Arrow, a brown old sailor
    with earrings in his ears and a squint. He and the squire were very thick and friendly,
    but I soon observed that things were not the same between Mr. Trelawney and the captain. This last was a sharp-looking man who seemed
    angry with everything on board and was soon to tell us why, for we had hardly got down
    into the cabin when a sailor followed us. “Captain Smollett, sir, axing to speak with
    you,” said he. “I am always at the captain’s orders. Show
    him in,” said the squire. The captain, who was close behind his messenger,
    entered at once and shut the door behind him. “Well, Captain Smollett, what have you to
    say? All well, I hope; all shipshape and seaworthy?” “Well, sir,” said the captain, “better speak
    plain, I believe, even at the risk of offence. I don’t like this cruise; I don’t like the
    men; and I don’t like my officer. That’s short and sweet.” “Perhaps, sir, you don’t like the ship?” inquired
    the squire, very angry, as I could see. “I can’t speak as to that, sir, not having
    seen her tried,” said the captain. “She seems a clever craft; more I can’t say.” “Possibly, sir, you may not like your employer,
    either?” says the squire. But here Dr. Livesey cut in. “Stay a bit,” said he, “stay a bit. No use
    of such questions as that but to produce ill feeling. The captain has said too much or
    he has said too little, and I’m bound to say that I require an explanation of his words.
    You don’t, you say, like this cruise. Now, why?” “I was engaged, sir, on what we call sealed
    orders, to sail this ship for that gentleman where he should bid me,” said the captain.
    “So far so good. But now I find that every man before the mast knows more than I do.
    I don’t call that fair, now, do you?” “No,” said Dr. Livesey, “I don’t.” “Next,” said the captain, “I learn we are
    going after treasure—hear it from my own hands, mind you. Now, treasure is ticklish
    work; I don’t like treasure voyages on any account, and I don’t like them, above all,
    when they are secret and when (begging your pardon, Mr. Trelawney) the secret has been
    told to the parrot.” “Silver’s parrot?” asked the squire. “It’s a way of speaking,” said the captain.
    “Blabbed, I mean. It’s my belief neither of you gentlemen know what you are about, but
    I’ll tell you my way of it—life or death, and a close run.” “That is all clear, and, I dare say, true
    enough,” replied Dr. Livesey. “We take the risk, but we are not so ignorant as you believe
    us. Next, you say you don’t like the crew. Are they not good seamen?” “I don’t like them, sir,” returned Captain
    Smollett. “And I think I should have had the choosing of my own hands, if you go to that.” “Perhaps you should,” replied the doctor.
    “My friend should, perhaps, have taken you along with him; but the slight, if there be
    one, was unintentional. And you don’t like Mr. Arrow?” “I don’t, sir. I believe he’s a good seaman,
    but he’s too free with the crew to be a good officer. A mate should keep himself to himself—shouldn’t
    drink with the men before the mast!” “Do you mean he drinks?” cried the squire. “No, sir,” replied the captain, “only that
    he’s too familiar.” “Well, now, and the short and long of it,
    captain?” asked the doctor. “Tell us what you want.” “Well, gentlemen, are you determined to go
    on this cruise?” “Like iron,” answered the squire. “Very good,” said the captain. “Then, as you’ve
    heard me very patiently, saying things that I could not prove, hear me a few words more.
    They are putting the powder and the arms in the fore hold. Now, you have a good place
    under the cabin; why not put them there?—first point. Then, you are bringing four of your
    own people with you, and they tell me some of them are to be berthed forward. Why not
    give them the berths here beside the cabin?—second point.” “Any more?” asked Mr. Trelawney. “One more,” said the captain. “There’s been
    too much blabbing already.” “Far too much,” agreed the doctor. “I’ll tell you what I’ve heard myself,” continued
    Captain Smollett: “that you have a map of an island, that there’s crosses on the map
    to show where treasure is, and that the island lies—” And then he named the latitude and
    longitude exactly. “I never told that,” cried the squire, “to
    a soul!” “The hands know it, sir,” returned the captain. “Livesey, that must have been you or Hawkins,”
    cried the squire. “It doesn’t much matter who it was,” replied
    the doctor. And I could see that neither he nor the captain paid much regard to Mr. Trelawney’s
    protestations. Neither did I, to be sure, he was so loose a talker; yet in this case
    I believe he was really right and that nobody had told the situation of the island. “Well, gentlemen,” continued the captain,
    “I don’t know who has this map; but I make it a point, it shall be kept secret even from
    me and Mr. Arrow. Otherwise I would ask you to let me resign.” “I see,” said the doctor. “You wish us to
    keep this matter dark and to make a garrison of the stern part of the ship, manned with
    my friend’s own people, and provided with all the arms and powder on board. In other
    words, you fear a mutiny.” “Sir,” said Captain Smollett, “with no intention
    to take offence, I deny your right to put words into my mouth. No captain, sir, would
    be justified in going to sea at all if he had ground enough to say that. As for Mr.
    Arrow, I believe him thoroughly honest; some of the men are the same; all may be for what
    I know. But I am responsible for the ship’s safety and the life of every man Jack aboard
    of her. I see things going, as I think, not quite right. And I ask you to take certain
    precautions or let me resign my berth. And that’s all.” “Captain Smollett,” began the doctor with
    a smile, “did ever you hear the fable of the mountain and the mouse? You’ll excuse me,
    I dare say, but you remind me of that fable. When you came in here, I’ll stake my wig,
    you meant more than this.” “Doctor,” said the captain, “you are smart.
    When I came in here I meant to get discharged. I had no thought that Mr. Trelawney would
    hear a word.” “No more I would,” cried the squire. “Had
    Livesey not been here I should have seen you to the deuce. As it is, I have heard you.
    I will do as you desire, but I think the worse of you.” “That’s as you please, sir,” said the captain.
    “You’ll find I do my duty.” And with that he took his leave. “Trelawney,” said the doctor, “contrary to
    all my notions, I believed you have managed to get two honest men on board with you—that
    man and John Silver.” “Silver, if you like,” cried the squire; “but
    as for that intolerable humbug, I declare I think his conduct unmanly, unsailorly, and
    downright un-English.” “Well,” says the doctor, “we shall see.” When we came on deck, the men had begun already
    to take out the arms and powder, yo-ho-ing at their work, while the captain and Mr. Arrow
    stood by superintending. The new arrangement was quite to my liking.
    The whole schooner had been overhauled; six berths had been made astern out of what had
    been the after-part of the main hold; and this set of cabins was only joined to the
    galley and forecastle by a sparred passage on the port side. It had been originally meant
    that the captain, Mr. Arrow, Hunter, Joyce, the doctor, and the squire were to occupy
    these six berths. Now Redruth and I were to get two of them and Mr. Arrow and the captain
    were to sleep on deck in the companion, which had been enlarged on each side till you might
    almost have called it a round-house. Very low it was still, of course; but there was
    room to swing two hammocks, and even the mate seemed pleased with the arrangement. Even
    he, perhaps, had been doubtful as to the crew, but that is only guess, for as you shall hear,
    we had not long the benefit of his opinion. We were all hard at work, changing the powder
    and the berths, when the last man or two, and Long John along with them, came off in
    a shore-boat. The cook came up the side like a monkey for
    cleverness, and as soon as he saw what was doing, “So ho, mates!” says he. “What’s this?” “We’re a-changing of the powder, Jack,” answers
    one. “Why, by the powers,” cried Long John, “if
    we do, we’ll miss the morning tide!” “My orders!” said the captain shortly. “You
    may go below, my man. Hands will want supper.” “Aye, aye, sir,” answered the cook, and touching
    his forelock, he disappeared at once in the direction of his galley. “That’s a good man, captain,” said the doctor. “Very likely, sir,” replied Captain Smollett.
    “Easy with that, men—easy,” he ran on, to the fellows who were shifting the powder;
    and then suddenly observing me examining the swivel we carried amidships, a long brass
    nine, “Here you, ship’s boy,” he cried, “out o’ that! Off with you to the cook and get
    some work.” And then as I was hurrying off I heard him
    say, quite loudly, to the doctor, “I’ll have no favourites on my ship.” I assure you I was quite of the squire’s way
    of thinking, and hated the captain deeply. Chapter 10 – The Voyage ALL that night we were in a great bustle getting
    things stowed in their place, and boatfuls of the squire’s friends, Mr. Blandly and the
    like, coming off to wish him a good voyage and a safe return. We never had a night at
    the Admiral Benbow when I had half the work; and I was dog-tired when, a little before
    dawn, the boatswain sounded his pipe and the crew began to man the capstan-bars. I might
    have been twice as weary, yet I would not have left the deck, all was so new and interesting
    to me—the brief commands, the shrill note of the whistle, the men bustling to their
    places in the glimmer of the ship’s lanterns. “Now, Barbecue, tip us a stave,” cried one
    voice. “The old one,” cried another. “Aye, aye, mates,” said Long John, who was
    standing by, with his crutch under his arm, and at once broke out in the air and words
    I knew so well: “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—” And then the whole crew bore chorus:— “Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” And at the third “Ho!” drove the bars before
    them with a will. Even at that exciting moment it carried me
    back to the old Admiral Benbow in a second, and I seemed to hear the voice of the captain
    piping in the chorus. But soon the anchor was short up; soon it was hanging dripping
    at the bows; soon the sails began to draw, and the land and shipping to flit by on either
    side; and before I could lie down to snatch an hour of slumber the Hispaniola had begun
    her voyage to the Isle of Treasure. I am not going to relate that voyage in detail.
    It was fairly prosperous. The ship proved to be a good ship, the crew were capable seamen,
    and the captain thoroughly understood his business. But before we came the length of
    Treasure Island, two or three things had happened which require to be known. Mr. Arrow, first of all, turned out even worse
    than the captain had feared. He had no command among the men, and people did what they pleased
    with him. But that was by no means the worst of it, for after a day or two at sea he began
    to appear on deck with hazy eye, red cheeks, stuttering tongue, and other marks of drunkenness.
    Time after time he was ordered below in disgrace. Sometimes he fell and cut himself; sometimes
    he lay all day long in his little bunk at one side of the companion; sometimes for a
    day or two he would be almost sober and attend to his work at least passably. In the meantime, we could never make out where
    he got the drink. That was the ship’s mystery. Watch him as we pleased, we could do nothing
    to solve it; and when we asked him to his face, he would only laugh if he were drunk,
    and if he were sober deny solemnly that he ever tasted anything but water. He was not only useless as an officer and
    a bad influence amongst the men, but it was plain that at this rate he must soon kill
    himself outright, so nobody was much surprised, nor very sorry, when one dark night, with
    a head sea, he disappeared entirely and was seen no more. “Overboard!” said the captain. “Well, gentlemen,
    that saves the trouble of putting him in irons.” But there we were, without a mate; and it
    was necessary, of course, to advance one of the men. The boatswain, Job Anderson, was
    the likeliest man aboard, and though he kept his old title, he served in a way as mate.
    Mr. Trelawney had followed the sea, and his knowledge made him very useful, for he often
    took a watch himself in easy weather. And the coxswain, Israel Hands, was a careful,
    wily, old, experienced seaman who could be trusted at a pinch with almost anything. He was a great confidant of Long John Silver,
    and so the mention of his name leads me on to speak of our ship’s cook, Barbecue, as
    the men called him. Aboard ship he carried his crutch by a lanyard
    round his neck, to have both hands as free as possible. It was something to see him wedge
    the foot of the crutch against a bulkhead, and propped against it, yielding to every
    movement of the ship, get on with his cooking like someone safe ashore. Still more strange
    was it to see him in the heaviest of weather cross the deck. He had a line or two rigged
    up to help him across the widest spaces—Long John’s earrings, they were called; and he
    would hand himself from one place to another, now using the crutch, now trailing it alongside
    by the lanyard, as quickly as another man could walk. Yet some of the men who had sailed
    with him before expressed their pity to see him so reduced. “He’s no common man, Barbecue,” said the coxswain
    to me. “He had good schooling in his young days and can speak like a book when so minded;
    and brave—a lion’s nothing alongside of Long John! I seen him grapple four and knock
    their heads together—him unarmed.” All the crew respected and even obeyed him.
    He had a way of talking to each and doing everybody some particular service. To me he
    was unweariedly kind, and always glad to see me in the galley, which he kept as clean as
    a new pin, the dishes hanging up burnished and his parrot in a cage in one corner. “Come away, Hawkins,” he would say; “come
    and have a yarn with John. Nobody more welcome than yourself, my son. Sit you down and hear
    the news. Here’s Cap’n Flint—I calls my parrot Cap’n Flint, after the famous buccaneer—here’s
    Cap’n Flint predicting success to our v’yage. Wasn’t you, cap’n?” And the parrot would say, with great rapidity,
    “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!” till you wondered that it was not
    out of breath, or till John threw his handkerchief over the cage. “Now, that bird,” he would say, “is, maybe,
    two hundred years old, Hawkins—they live forever mostly; and if anybody’s seen more
    wickedness, it must be the devil himself. She’s sailed with England, the great Cap’n
    England, the pirate. She’s been at Madagascar, and at Malabar, and Surinam, and Providence,
    and Portobello. She was at the fishing up of the wrecked plate ships. It’s there she
    learned ‘Pieces of eight,’ and little wonder; three hundred and fifty thousand of ’em, Hawkins!
    She was at the boarding of the viceroy of the Indies out of Goa, she was; and to look
    at her you would think she was a babby. But you smelt powder—didn’t you, cap’n?” “Stand by to go about,” the parrot would scream. “Ah, she’s a handsome craft, she is,” the
    cook would say, and give her sugar from his pocket, and then the bird would peck at the
    bars and swear straight on, passing belief for wickedness. “There,” John would add, “you
    can’t touch pitch and not be mucked, lad. Here’s this poor old innocent bird o’ mine
    swearing blue fire, and none the wiser, you may lay to that. She would swear the same,
    in a manner of speaking, before chaplain.” And John would touch his forelock with a solemn
    way he had that made me think he was the best of men. In the meantime, the squire and Captain Smollett
    were still on pretty distant terms with one another. The squire made no bones about the
    matter; he despised the captain. The captain, on his part, never spoke but when he was spoken
    to, and then sharp and short and dry, and not a word wasted. He owned, when driven into
    a corner, that he seemed to have been wrong about the crew, that some of them were as
    brisk as he wanted to see and all had behaved fairly well. As for the ship, he had taken
    a downright fancy to her. “She’ll lie a point nearer the wind than a man has a right to
    expect of his own married wife, sir. But,” he would add, “all I say is, we’re not home
    again, and I don’t like the cruise.” The squire, at this, would turn away and march
    up and down the deck, chin in air. “A trifle more of that man,” he would say,
    “and I shall explode.” We had some heavy weather, which only proved
    the qualities of the Hispaniola. Every man on board seemed well content, and they must
    have been hard to please if they had been otherwise, for it is my belief there was never
    a ship’s company so spoiled since Noah put to sea. Double grog was going on the least
    excuse; there was duff on odd days, as, for instance, if the squire heard it was any man’s
    birthday, and always a barrel of apples standing broached in the waist for anyone to help himself
    that had a fancy. “Never knew good come of it yet,” the captain
    said to Dr. Livesey. “Spoil forecastle hands, make devils. That’s my belief.” But good did come of the apple barrel, as
    you shall hear, for if it had not been for that, we should have had no note of warning
    and might all have perished by the hand of treachery. This was how it came about. We had run up the trades to get the wind of
    the island we were after—I am not allowed to be more plain—and now we were running
    down for it with a bright lookout day and night. It was about the last day of our outward
    voyage by the largest computation; some time that night, or at latest before noon of the
    morrow, we should sight the Treasure Island. We were heading S.S.W. and had a steady breeze
    abeam and a quiet sea. The Hispaniola rolled steadily, dipping her bowsprit now and then
    with a whiff of spray. All was drawing alow and aloft; everyone was in the bravest spirits
    because we were now so near an end of the first part of our adventure. Now, just after sundown, when all my work
    was over and I was on my way to my berth, it occurred to me that I should like an apple.
    I ran on deck. The watch was all forward looking out for the island. The man at the helm was
    watching the luff of the sail and whistling away gently to himself, and that was the only
    sound excepting the swish of the sea against the bows and around the sides of the ship. In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and
    found there was scarce an apple left; but sitting down there in the dark, what with
    the sound of the waters and the rocking movement of the ship, I had either fallen asleep or
    was on the point of doing so when a heavy man sat down with rather a clash close by.
    The barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders against it, and I was just about to jump up
    when the man began to speak. It was Silver’s voice, and before I had heard a dozen words,
    I would not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and listening,
    in the extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen words I understood that the
    lives of all the honest men aboard depended upon me alone. Chapter 11 – What I Heard in the Apple Barrel NO, not I,” said Silver. “Flint was cap’n;
    I was quartermaster, along of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my leg, old Pew
    lost his deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him that ampytated me—out of college and
    all—Latin by the bucket, and what not; but he was hanged like a dog, and sun-dried like
    the rest, at Corso Castle. That was Roberts’ men, that was, and comed of changing names
    to their ships—Royal Fortune and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so let her
    stay, I says. So it was with the Cassandra, as brought us all safe home from Malabar,
    after England took the viceroy of the Indies; so it was with the old Walrus, Flint’s old
    ship, as I’ve seen amuck with the red blood and fit to sink with gold.” “Ah!” cried another voice, that of the youngest
    hand on board, and evidently full of admiration. “He was the flower of the flock, was Flint!” “Davis was a man too, by all accounts,” said
    Silver. “I never sailed along of him; first with England, then with Flint, that’s my story;
    and now here on my own account, in a manner of speaking. I laid by nine hundred safe,
    from England, and two thousand after Flint. That ain’t bad for a man before the mast—all
    safe in bank. ‘Tain’t earning now, it’s saving does it, you may lay to that. Where’s all
    England’s men now? I dunno. Where’s Flint’s? Why, most on ’em aboard here, and glad to
    get the duff—been begging before that, some on ’em. Old Pew, as had lost his sight, and
    might have thought shame, spends twelve hundred pound in a year, like a lord in Parliament.
    Where is he now? Well, he’s dead now and under hatches; but for two year before that, shiver
    my timbers, the man was starving! He begged, and he stole, and he cut throats, and starved
    at that, by the powers!” “Well, it ain’t much use, after all,” said
    the young seaman. “‘Tain’t much use for fools, you may lay to
    it—that, nor nothing,” cried Silver. “But now, you look here: you’re young, you are,
    but you’re as smart as paint. I see that when I set my eyes on you, and I’ll talk to you
    like a man.” You may imagine how I felt when I heard this
    abominable old rogue addressing another in the very same words of flattery as he had
    used to myself. I think, if I had been able, that I would have killed him through the barrel.
    Meantime, he ran on, little supposing he was overheard. “Here it is about gentlemen of fortune. They
    lives rough, and they risk swinging, but they eat and drink like fighting-cocks, and when
    a cruise is done, why, it’s hundreds of pounds instead of hundreds of farthings in their
    pockets. Now, the most goes for rum and a good fling, and to sea again in their shirts.
    But that’s not the course I lay. I puts it all away, some here, some there, and none
    too much anywheres, by reason of suspicion. I’m fifty, mark you; once back from this cruise,
    I set up gentleman in earnest. Time enough too, says you. Ah, but I’ve lived easy in
    the meantime, never denied myself o’ nothing heart desires, and slep’ soft and ate dainty
    all my days but when at sea. And how did I begin? Before the mast, like you!” “Well,” said the other, “but all the other
    money’s gone now, ain’t it? You daren’t show face in Bristol after this.” “Why, where might you suppose it was?” asked
    Silver derisively. “At Bristol, in banks and places,” answered
    his companion. “It were,” said the cook; “it were when we
    weighed anchor. But my old missis has it all by now. And the Spy-glass is sold, lease and
    goodwill and rigging; and the old girl’s off to meet me. I would tell you where, for I
    trust you, but it’d make jealousy among the mates.” “And can you trust your missis?” asked the
    other. “Gentlemen of fortune,” returned the cook,
    “usually trusts little among themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. But I have
    a way with me, I have. When a mate brings a slip on his cable—one as knows me, I mean—it
    won’t be in the same world with old John. There was some that was feared of Pew, and
    some that was feared of Flint; but Flint his own self was feared of me. Feared he was,
    and proud. They was the roughest crew afloat, was Flint’s; the devil himself would have
    been feared to go to sea with them. Well now, I tell you, I’m not a boasting man, and you
    seen yourself how easy I keep company, but when I was quartermaster, lambs wasn’t the
    word for Flint’s old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure of yourself in old John’s ship.” “Well, I tell you now,” replied the lad, “I
    didn’t half a quarter like the job till I had this talk with you, John; but there’s
    my hand on it now.” “And a brave lad you were, and smart too,”
    answered Silver, shaking hands so heartily that all the barrel shook, “and a finer figurehead
    for a gentleman of fortune I never clapped my eyes on.” By this time I had begun to understand the
    meaning of their terms. By a “gentleman of fortune” they plainly meant neither more nor
    less than a common pirate, and the little scene that I had overheard was the last act
    in the corruption of one of the honest hands—perhaps of the last one left aboard. But on this point
    I was soon to be relieved, for Silver giving a little whistle, a third man strolled up
    and sat down by the party. “Dick’s square,” said Silver. “Oh, I know’d Dick was square,” returned the
    voice of the coxswain, Israel Hands. “He’s no fool, is Dick.” And he turned his quid
    and spat. “But look here,” he went on, “here’s what I want to know, Barbecue: how long are
    we a-going to stand off and on like a blessed bumboat? I’ve had a’most enough o’ Cap’n Smollett;
    he’s hazed me long enough, by thunder! I want to go into that cabin, I do. I want their
    pickles and wines, and that.” “Israel,” said Silver, “your head ain’t much
    account, nor ever was. But you’re able to hear, I reckon; leastways, your ears is big
    enough. Now, here’s what I say: you’ll berth forward, and you’ll live hard, and you’ll
    speak soft, and you’ll keep sober till I give the word; and you may lay to that, my son.” “Well, I don’t say no, do I?” growled the
    coxswain. “What I say is, when? That’s what I say.” “When! By the powers!” cried Silver. “Well
    now, if you want to know, I’ll tell you when. The last moment I can manage, and that’s when.
    Here’s a first-rate seaman, Cap’n Smollett, sails the blessed ship for us. Here’s this
    squire and doctor with a map and such—I don’t know where it is, do I? No more do you,
    says you. Well then, I mean this squire and doctor shall find the stuff, and help us to
    get it aboard, by the powers. Then we’ll see. If I was sure of you all, sons of double Dutchmen,
    I’d have Cap’n Smollett navigate us half-way back again before I struck.” “Why, we’re all seamen aboard here, I should
    think,” said the lad Dick. “We’re all forecastle hands, you mean,” snapped
    Silver. “We can steer a course, but who’s to set one? That’s what all you gentlemen
    split on, first and last. If I had my way, I’d have Cap’n Smollett work us back into
    the trades at least; then we’d have no blessed miscalculations and a spoonful of water a
    day. But I know the sort you are. I’ll finish with ’em at the island, as soon’s the blunt’s
    on board, and a pity it is. But you’re never happy till you’re drunk. Split my sides, I’ve
    a sick heart to sail with the likes of you!” “Easy all, Long John,” cried Israel. “Who’s
    a-crossin’ of you?” “Why, how many tall ships, think ye, now,
    have I seen laid aboard? And how many brisk lads drying in the sun at Execution Dock?”
    cried Silver. “And all for this same hurry and hurry and hurry. You hear me? I seen a
    thing or two at sea, I have. If you would on’y lay your course, and a p’int to windward,
    you would ride in carriages, you would. But not you! I know you. You’ll have your mouthful
    of rum tomorrow, and go hang.” “Everybody knowed you was a kind of a chapling,
    John; but there’s others as could hand and steer as well as you,” said Israel. “They
    liked a bit o’ fun, they did. They wasn’t so high and dry, nohow, but took their fling,
    like jolly companions every one.” “So?” says Silver. “Well, and where are they
    now? Pew was that sort, and he died a beggar-man. Flint was, and he died of rum at Savannah.
    Ah, they was a sweet crew, they was! On’y, where are they?” “But,” asked Dick, “when we do lay ’em athwart,
    what are we to do with ’em, anyhow?” “There’s the man for me!” cried the cook admiringly.
    “That’s what I call business. Well, what would you think? Put ’em ashore like maroons? That
    would have been England’s way. Or cut ’em down like that much pork? That would have
    been Flint’s, or Billy Bones’s.” “Billy was the man for that,” said Israel.
    “‘Dead men don’t bite,’ says he. Well, he’s dead now hisself; he knows the long and short
    on it now; and if ever a rough hand come to port, it was Billy.” “Right you are,” said Silver; “rough and ready.
    But mark you here, I’m an easy man—I’m quite the gentleman, says you; but this time it’s
    serious. Dooty is dooty, mates. I give my vote—death. When I’m in Parlyment and riding
    in my coach, I don’t want none of these sea-lawyers in the cabin a-coming home, unlooked for,
    like the devil at prayers. Wait is what I say; but when the time comes, why, let her
    rip!” “John,” cries the coxswain, “you’re a man!” “You’ll say so, Israel when you see,” said
    Silver. “Only one thing I claim—I claim Trelawney. I’ll wring his calf’s head off
    his body with these hands, Dick!” he added, breaking off. “You just jump up, like a sweet
    lad, and get me an apple, to wet my pipe like.” You may fancy the terror I was in! I should
    have leaped out and run for it if I had found the strength, but my limbs and heart alike
    misgave me. I heard Dick begin to rise, and then someone seemingly stopped him, and the
    voice of Hands exclaimed, “Oh, stow that! Don’t you get sucking of that bilge, John.
    Let’s have a go of the rum.” “Dick,” said Silver, “I trust you. I’ve a
    gauge on the keg, mind. There’s the key; you fill a pannikin and bring it up.” Terrified as I was, I could not help thinking
    to myself that this must have been how Mr. Arrow got the strong waters that destroyed
    him. Dick was gone but a little while, and during
    his absence Israel spoke straight on in the cook’s ear. It was but a word or two that
    I could catch, and yet I gathered some important news, for besides other scraps that tended
    to the same purpose, this whole clause was audible: “Not another man of them’ll jine.”
    Hence there were still faithful men on board. When Dick returned, one after another of the
    trio took the pannikin and drank—one “To luck,” another with a “Here’s to old Flint,”
    and Silver himself saying, in a kind of song, “Here’s to ourselves, and hold your luff,
    plenty of prizes and plenty of duff.” Just then a sort of brightness fell upon me
    in the barrel, and looking up, I found the moon had risen and was silvering the mizzen-top
    and shining white on the luff of the fore-sail; and almost at the same time the voice of the
    lookout shouted, “Land ho!” Chapter 12 – Council of War THERE was a great rush of feet across the
    deck. I could hear people tumbling up from the cabin
    and the forecastle, and slipping in an instant outside my barrel, I dived behind the fore-sail,
    made a double towards the stern, and came out upon the open deck in time to join Hunter
    and Dr. Livesey in the rush for the weather bow. There all hands were already congregated. A belt of fog had lifted almost simultaneously
    with the appearance of the moon. Away to the south-west of us we saw two low
    hills, about a couple of miles apart, and rising behind one of them a third and higher
    hill, whose peak was still buried in the fog. All three seemed sharp and conical in figure. So much I saw, almost in a dream, for I had
    not yet recovered from my horrid fear of a minute or two before. And then I heard the voice of Captain Smollett
    issuing orders. The Hispaniola was laid a couple of points
    nearer the wind and now sailed a course that would just clear the island on the east. “And now, men,” said the captain, when all
    was sheeted home, “has any one of you ever seen that land ahead?” “I have, sir,” said Silver. “I’ve watered there with a trader I was cook
    in.” “The anchorage is on the south, behind an
    islet, I fancy?” asked the captain. “Yes, sir; Skeleton Island they calls it. It were a main place for pirates once, and
    a hand we had on board knowed all their names for it. That hill to the nor’ard they calls the Fore-mast
    Hill; there are three hills in a row running south’ard—fore, main, and mizzen, sir. But the main—that’s the big un, with the
    cloud on it—they usually calls the Spy-glass, by reason of a lookout they kept when they
    was in the anchorage cleaning, for it’s there they cleaned their ships, sir, asking your
    pardon.” “I have a chart here,” says Captain Smollett. “See if that’s the place.” Long John’s eyes burned in his head as he
    took the chart, but by the fresh look of the paper I knew he was doomed to disappointment. This was not the map we found in Billy Bones’s
    chest, but an accurate copy, complete in all things—names and heights and soundings—with
    the single exception of the red crosses and the written notes. Sharp as must have been his annoyance, Silver
    had the strength of mind to hide it. “Yes, sir,” said he, “this is the spot, to
    be sure, and very prettily drawed out. Who might have done that, I wonder? The pirates were too ignorant, I reckon. Aye, here it is: ‘Capt. Kidd’s Anchorage’—just
    the name my shipmate called it. There’s a strong current runs along the south,
    and then away nor’ard up the west coast. Right you was, sir,” says he, “to haul your
    wind and keep the weather of the island. Leastways, if such was your intention as to
    enter and careen, and there ain’t no better place for that in these waters.” “Thank you, my man,” says Captain Smollett. “I’ll ask you later on to give us a help. You may go.” I was surprised at the coolness with which
    John avowed his knowledge of the island, and I own I was half-frightened when I saw him
    drawing nearer to myself. He did not know, to be sure, that I had overheard
    his council from the apple barrel, and yet I had by this time taken such a horror of
    his cruelty, duplicity, and power that I could scarce conceal a shudder when he laid his
    hand upon my arm. “Ah,” says he, “this here is a sweet spot,
    this island—a sweet spot for a lad to get ashore on. You’ll bathe, and you’ll climb trees, and
    you’ll hunt goats, you will; and you’ll get aloft on them hills like a goat yourself. Why, it makes me young again. I was going to forget my timber leg, I was. It’s a pleasant thing to be young and have
    ten toes, and you may lay to that. When you want to go a bit of exploring, you
    just ask old John, and he’ll put up a snack for you to take along.” And clapping me in the friendliest way upon
    the shoulder, he hobbled off forward and went below. Captain Smollett, the squire, and Dr. Livesey
    were talking together on the quarter-deck, and anxious as I was to tell them my story,
    I durst not interrupt them openly. While I was still casting about in my thoughts
    to find some probable excuse, Dr. Livesey called me to his side. He had left his pipe below, and being a slave
    to tobacco, had meant that I should fetch it; but as soon as I was near enough to speak
    and not to be overheard, I broke immediately, “Doctor, let me speak. Get the captain and squire down to the cabin,
    and then make some pretence to send for me. I have terrible news.” The doctor changed countenance a little, but
    next moment he was master of himself. “Thank you, Jim,” said he quite loudly, “that
    was all I wanted to know,” as if he had asked me a question. And with that he turned on his heel and rejoined
    the other two. They spoke together for a little, and though
    none of them started, or raised his voice, or so much as whistled, it was plain enough
    that Dr. Livesey had communicated my request, for the next thing that I heard was the captain
    giving an order to Job Anderson, and all hands were piped on deck. “My lads,” said Captain Smollett, “I’ve a
    word to say to you. This land that we have sighted is the place
    we have been sailing for. Mr. Trelawney, being a very open-handed gentleman,
    as we all know, has just asked me a word or two, and as I was able to tell him that every
    man on board had done his duty, alow and aloft, as I never ask to see it done better, why,
    he and I and the doctor are going below to the cabin to drink your health and luck, and
    you’ll have grog served out for you to drink our health and luck. I’ll tell you what I think of this: I think
    it handsome. And if you think as I do, you’ll give a good
    sea-cheer for the gentleman that does it.” The cheer followed—that was a matter of
    course; but it rang out so full and hearty that I confess I could hardly believe these
    same men were plotting for our blood. “One more cheer for Cap’n Smollett,” cried
    Long John when the first had subsided. And this also was given with a will. On the top of that the three gentlemen went
    below, and not long after, word was sent forward that Jim Hawkins was wanted in the cabin. I found them all three seated round the table,
    a bottle of Spanish wine and some raisins before them, and the doctor smoking away,
    with his wig on his lap, and that, I knew, was a sign that he was agitated. The stern window was open, for it was a warm
    night, and you could see the moon shining behind on the ship’s wake. “Now, Hawkins,” said the squire, “you have
    something to say. Speak up.” I did as I was bid, and as short as I could
    make it, told the whole details of Silver’s conversation. Nobody interrupted me till I was done, nor
    did any one of the three of them make so much as a movement, but they kept their eyes upon
    my face from first to last. “Jim,” said Dr. Livesey, “take a seat.” And they made me sit down at table beside
    them, poured me out a glass of wine, filled my hands with raisins, and all three, one
    after the other, and each with a bow, drank my good health, and their service to me, for
    my luck and courage. “Now, captain,” said the squire, “you were
    right, and I was wrong. I own myself an ass, and I await your orders.” “No more an ass than I, sir,” returned the
    captain. “I never heard of a crew that meant to mutiny
    but what showed signs before, for any man that had an eye in his head to see the mischief
    and take steps according. But this crew,” he added, “beats me.” “Captain,” said the doctor, “with your permission,
    that’s Silver. A very remarkable man.” “He’d look remarkably well from a yard-arm,
    sir,” returned the captain. “But this is talk; this don’t lead to anything. I see three or four points, and with Mr. Trelawney’s
    permission, I’ll name them.” “You, sir, are the captain. It is for you to speak,” says Mr. Trelawney
    grandly. “First point,” began Mr. Smollett. “We must go on, because we can’t turn back. If I gave the word to go about, they would
    rise at once. Second point, we have time before us—at
    least until this treasure’s found. Third point, there are faithful hands. Now, sir, it’s got to come to blows sooner
    or later, and what I propose is to take time by the forelock, as the saying is, and come
    to blows some fine day when they least expect it. We can count, I take it, on your own home
    servants, Mr. Trelawney?” “As upon myself,” declared the squire. “Three,” reckoned the captain; “ourselves
    make seven, counting Hawkins here. Now, about the honest hands?” “Most likely Trelawney’s own men,” said the
    doctor; “those he had picked up for himself before he lit on Silver.” “Nay,” replied the squire. “Hands was one of mine.” “I did think I could have trusted Hands,”
    added the captain. “And to think that they’re all Englishmen!”
    broke out the squire. “Sir, I could find it in my heart to blow
    the ship up.” “Well, gentlemen,” said the captain, “the
    best that I can say is not much. We must lay to, if you please, and keep a
    bright lookout. It’s trying on a man, I know. It would be pleasanter to come to blows. But there’s no help for it till we know our
    men. Lay to, and whistle for a wind, that’s my
    view.” “Jim here,” said the doctor, “can help us
    more than anyone. The men are not shy with him, and Jim is a
    noticing lad.” “Hawkins, I put prodigious faith in you,”
    added the squire. I began to feel pretty desperate at this,
    for I felt altogether helpless; and yet, by an odd train of circumstances, it was indeed
    through me that safety came. In the meantime, talk as we pleased, there
    were only seven out of the twenty-six on whom we knew we could rely; and out of these seven
    one was a boy, so that the grown men on our side were six to their nineteen. PART THREE — My Shore Adventure 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!” 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. Chapter 14 – 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 I 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 oaklike
    trees—live, or evergreen, oaks, I heard afterwards 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 a 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 favourable 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 behaviour 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, blond 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’d I be,
    Tom—now, tell me, where’d 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
    whirr; 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 point 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 hurtling 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 were 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 defenceless 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 wisp of grass. Everything else was unchanged, the sun still
    shining mercilessly on the steaming marsh and the tall pinnacle of the mountain, and
    I could scarce persuade myself that murder had been actually 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-bye to the Hispaniola; good-bye 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 live-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 smelt more freshly than down beside
    the marsh. And here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill
    with a thumping heart. Chapter 15 – 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 no wise 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 manlike 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 defenceless,
    courage glowed again in my heart and I set my face resolutely for this man of the island
    and walked briskly towards 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 burnt
    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 ship’s
    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 accoutrement. “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 can 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 grave-stones! 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 don’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 give 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. “Aye, 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 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 pick-axe. 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 maybe think upon a prayer (says you),
    and sometimes he would maybe 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’leman 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 towards the anchorage,
    my terrors all forgotten, while close at my side the marooned man in his goatskins trotted
    easily and lightly. “Left, left,” says he; “keep to your left
    hand, mate Jim! Under the trees with you! Theer’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 short-handed—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 FOUR—The Stockade Chapter 16 – Narrative Continued by the Doctor:
    How the Ship Was Abandoned IT was about half past one—three bells in
    the sea phrase—that the two boats went ashore from the Hispaniola. The captain, the squire, and I were talking
    matters over in the cabin. Had there been a breath of wind, we should
    have fallen on the six mutineers who were left aboard with us, slipped our cable, and
    away to sea. But the wind was wanting; and to complete
    our helplessness, down came Hunter with the news that Jim Hawkins had slipped into a boat
    and was gone ashore with the rest. It never occurred to us to doubt Jim Hawkins,
    but we were alarmed for his safety. With the men in the temper they were in, it
    seemed an even chance if we should see the lad again. We ran on deck. The pitch was bubbling in the seams; the nasty
    stench of the place turned me sick; if ever a man smelt fever and dysentery, it was in
    that abominable anchorage. The six scoundrels were sitting grumbling
    under a sail in the forecastle; ashore we could see the gigs made fast and a man sitting
    in each, hard by where the river runs in. One of them was whistling “Lillibullero.” Waiting was a strain, and it was decided that
    Hunter and I should go ashore with the jolly-boat in quest of information. The gigs had leaned to their right, but Hunter
    and I pulled straight in, in the direction of the stockade upon the chart. The two who were left guarding their boats
    seemed in a bustle at our appearance; “Lillibullero” stopped off, and I could see the pair discussing
    what they ought to do. Had they gone and told Silver, all might have
    turned out differently; but they had their orders, I suppose, and decided to sit quietly
    where they were and hark back again to “Lillibullero.” There was a slight bend in the coast, and
    I steered so as to put it between us; even before we landed we had thus lost sight of
    the gigs. I jumped out and came as near running as I
    durst, with a big silk handkerchief under my hat for coolness’ sake and a brace of pistols
    ready primed for safety. I had not gone a hundred yards when I reached
    the stockade. This was how it was: a spring of clear water
    rose almost at the top of a knoll. Well, on the knoll, and enclosing the spring,
    they had clapped a stout loghouse fit to hold two score of people on a pinch and loopholed
    for musketry on either side. All round this they had cleared a wide space,
    and then the thing was completed by a paling six feet high, without door or opening, too
    strong to pull down without time and labour and too open to shelter the besiegers. The people in the log-house had them in every
    way; they stood quiet in shelter and shot the others like partridges. All they wanted was a good watch and food;
    for, short of a complete surprise, they might have held the place against a regiment. What particularly took my fancy was the spring. For though we had a good enough place of it
    in the cabin of the Hispaniola, with plenty of arms and ammunition, and things to eat,
    and excellent wines, there had been one thing overlooked—we had no water. I was thinking this over when there came ringing
    over the island the cry of a man at the point of death. I was not new to violent death—I have served
    his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, and got a wound myself at Fontenoy—but I
    know my pulse went dot and carry one. “Jim Hawkins is gone,” was my first thought. It is something to have been an old soldier,
    but more still to have been a doctor. There is no time to dilly-dally in our work. And so now I made up my mind instantly, and
    with no time lost returned to the shore and jumped on board the jolly-boat. By good fortune Hunter pulled a good oar. We made the water fly, and the boat was soon
    alongside and I aboard the schooner. I found them all shaken, as was natural. The squire was sitting down, as white as a
    sheet, thinking of the harm he had led us to, the good soul! And one of the six forecastle hands was little
    better. “There’s a man,” says Captain Smollett, nodding
    towards him, “new to this work. He came nigh-hand fainting, doctor, when he
    heard the cry. Another touch of the rudder and that man would
    join us.” I told my plan to the captain, and between
    us we settled on the details of its accomplishment. We put old Redruth in the gallery between
    the cabin and the forecastle, with three or four loaded muskets and a mattress for protection. Hunter brought the boat round under the stern-port,
    and Joyce and I set to work loading her with powder tins, muskets, bags of biscuits, kegs
    of pork, a cask of cognac, and my invaluable medicine chest. In the meantime, the squire and the captain
    stayed on deck, and the latter hailed the coxswain, who was the principal man aboard. “Mr. Hands,” he said, “here are two of us
    with a brace of pistols each. If any one of you six make a signal of any
    description, that man’s dead.” They were a good deal taken aback, and after
    a little consultation one and all tumbled down the fore companion, thinking no doubt
    to take us on the rear. But when they saw Redruth waiting for them
    in the sparred galley, they went about ship at once, and a head popped out again on deck. “Down, dog!” cries the captain. And the head popped back again; and we heard
    no more, for the time, of these six very faint-hearted seamen. By this time, tumbling things in as they came,
    we had the jolly-boat loaded as much as we dared. Joyce and I got out through the stern-port,
    and we made for shore again as fast as oars could take us. This second trip fairly aroused the watchers
    along shore. “Lillibullero” was dropped again; and just
    before we lost sight of them behind the little point, one of them whipped ashore and disappeared. I had half a mind to change my plan and destroy
    their boats, but I feared that Silver and the others might be close at hand, and all
    might very well be lost by trying for too much. We had soon touched land in the same place
    as before and set to provision the block house. All three made the first journey, heavily
    laden, and tossed our stores over the palisade. Then, leaving Joyce to guard them—one man,
    to be sure, but with half a dozen muskets—Hunter and I returned to the jolly-boat and loaded
    ourselves once more. So we proceeded without pausing to take breath,
    till the whole cargo was bestowed, when the two servants took up their position in the
    block house, and I, with all my power, sculled back to the Hispaniola. That we should have risked a second boat load
    seems more daring than it really was. They had the advantage of numbers, of course,
    but we had the advantage of arms. Not one of the men ashore had a musket, and
    before they could get within range for pistol shooting, we flattered ourselves we should
    be able to give a good account of a half-dozen at least. The squire was waiting for me at the stern
    window, all his faintness gone from him. He caught the painter and made it fast, and
    we fell to loading the boat for our very lives. Pork, powder, and biscuit was the cargo, with
    only a musket and a cutlass apiece for the squire and me and Redruth and the captain. The rest of the arms and powder we dropped
    overboard in two fathoms and a half of water, so that we could see the bright steel shining
    far below us in the sun, on the clean, sandy bottom. By this time the tide was beginning to ebb,
    and the ship was swinging round to her anchor. Voices were heard faintly halloaing in the
    direction of the two gigs; and though this reassured us for Joyce and Hunter, who were
    well to the eastward, it warned our party to be off. Redruth retreated from his place in the gallery
    and dropped into the boat, which we then brought round to the ship’s counter, to be handier
    for Captain Smollett. “Now, men,” said he, “do you hear me?” There was no answer from the forecastle. “It’s to you, Abraham Gray—it’s to you I
    am speaking.” Still no reply. “Gray,” resumed Mr. Smollett, a little louder,
    “I am leaving this ship, and I order you to follow your captain. I know you are a good man at bottom, and I
    dare say not one of the lot of you’s as bad as he makes out. I have my watch here in my hand; I give you
    thirty seconds to join me in.” There was a pause. “Come, my fine fellow,” continued the captain;
    “don’t hang so long in stays. I’m risking my life and the lives of these
    good gentlemen every second.” There was a sudden scuffle, a sound of blows,
    and out burst Abraham Gray with a knife cut on the side of the cheek, and came running
    to the captain like a dog to the whistle. “I’m with you, sir,” said he. And the next moment he and the captain had
    dropped aboard of us, and we had shoved off and given way. We were clear out of the ship, but not yet
    ashore in our stockade. Chapter 17 – Narrative Continued by the Doctor:
    The Jolly-boat’s Last Trip THIS fifth trip was quite different from any
    of the others. In the first place, the little gallipot of
    a boat that we were in was gravely overloaded. Five grown men, and three of them—Trelawney,
    Redruth, and the captain—over six feet high, was already more than she was meant to carry. Add to that the powder, pork, and bread-bags. The gunwale was lipping astern. Several times we shipped a little water, and
    my breeches and the tails of my coat were all soaking wet before we had gone a hundred
    yards. The captain made us trim the boat, and we
    got her to lie a little more evenly. All the same, we were afraid to breathe. In the second place, the ebb was now making—a
    strong rippling current running westward through the basin, and then south’ard and seaward
    down the straits by which we had entered in the morning. Even the ripples were a danger to our overloaded
    craft, but the worst of it was that we were swept out of our true course and away from
    our proper landing-place behind the point. If we let the current have its way we should
    come ashore beside the gigs, where the pirates might appear at any moment. “I cannot keep her head for the stockade,
    sir,” said I to the captain. I was steering, while he and Redruth, two
    fresh men, were at the oars. “The tide keeps washing her down. Could you pull a little stronger?” “Not without swamping the boat,” said he. “You must bear up, sir, if you please—bear
    up until you see you’re gaining.” I tried and found by experiment that the tide
    kept sweeping us westward until I had laid her head due east, or just about right angles
    to the way we ought to go. “We’ll never get ashore at this rate,” said
    I. “If it’s the only course that we can lie,
    sir, we must even lie it,” returned the captain. “We must keep upstream. You see, sir,” he went on, “if once we dropped
    to leeward of the landing-place, it’s hard to say where we should get ashore, besides
    the chance of being boarded by the gigs; whereas, the way we go the current must slacken, and
    then we can dodge back along the shore.” “The current’s less a’ready, sir,” said the
    man Gray, who was sitting in the fore-sheets; “you can ease her off a bit.” “Thank you, my man,” said I, quite as if nothing
    had happened, for we had all quietly made up our minds to treat him like one of ourselves. Suddenly the captain spoke up again, and I
    thought his voice was a little changed. “The gun!” said he. “I have thought of that,” said I, for I made
    sure he was thinking of a bombardment of the fort. “They could never get the gun ashore, and
    if they did, they could never haul it through the woods.” “Look astern, doctor,” replied the captain. We had entirely forgotten the long nine; and
    there, to our horror, were the five rogues busy about her, getting off her jacket, as
    they called the stout tarpaulin cover under which she sailed. Not only that, but it flashed into my mind
    at the same moment that the round-shot and the powder for the gun had been left behind,
    and a stroke with an axe would put it all into the possession of the evil ones abroad. “Israel was Flint’s gunner,” said Gray hoarsely. At any risk, we put the boat’s head direct
    for the landing-place. By this time we had got so far out of the
    run of the current that we kept steerage way even at our necessarily gentle rate of rowing,
    and I could keep her steady for the goal. But the worst of it was that with the course
    I now held we turned our broadside instead of our stern to the Hispaniola and offered
    a target like a barn door. I could hear as well as see that brandy-faced
    rascal Israel Hands plumping down a round-shot on the deck. “Who’s the best shot?” asked the captain. “Mr. Trelawney, out and away,” said I. “Mr. Trelawney, will you please pick me off
    one of these men, sir? Hands, if possible,” said the captain. Trelawney was as cool as steel. He looked to the priming of his gun. “Now,” cried the captain, “easy with that
    gun, sir, or you’ll swamp the boat. All hands stand by to trim her when he aims.” The squire raised his gun, the rowing ceased,
    and we leaned over to the other side to keep the balance, and all was so nicely contrived
    that we did not ship a drop. They had the gun, by this time, slewed round
    upon the swivel, and Hands, who was at the muzzle with the rammer, was in consequence
    the most exposed. However, we had no luck, for just as Trelawney
    fired, down he stooped, the ball whistled over him, and it was one of the other four
    who fell. The cry he gave was echoed not only by his
    companions on board but by a great number of voices from the shore, and looking in that
    direction I saw the other pirates trooping out from among the trees and tumbling into
    their places in the boats. “Here come the gigs, sir,” said I. “Give way, then,” cried the captain. “We mustn’t mind if we swamp her now. If we can’t get ashore, all’s up.” “Only one of the gigs is being manned, sir,”
    I added; “the crew of the other most likely going round by shore to cut us off.” “They’ll have a hot run, sir,” returned the
    captain. “Jack ashore, you know. It’s not them I mind; it’s the round-shot. Carpet bowls! My lady’s maid couldn’t miss. Tell us, squire, when you see the match, and
    we’ll hold water.” In the meanwhile we had been making headway
    at a good pace for a boat so overloaded, and we had shipped but little water in the process. We were now close in; thirty or forty strokes
    and we should beach her, for the ebb had already disclosed a narrow belt of sand below the
    clustering trees. The gig was no longer to be feared; the little
    point had already concealed it from our eyes. The ebb-tide, which had so cruelly delayed
    us, was now making reparation and delaying our assailants. The one source of danger was the gun. “If I durst,” said the captain, “I’d stop
    and pick off another man.” But it was plain that they meant nothing should
    delay their shot. They had never so much as looked at their
    fallen comrade, though he was not dead, and I could see him trying to crawl away. “Ready!” cried the squire. “Hold!” cried the captain, quick as an echo. And he and Redruth backed with a great heave
    that sent her stern bodily under water. The report fell in at the same instant of
    time. This was the first that Jim heard, the sound
    of the squire’s shot not having reached him. Where the ball passed, not one of us precisely
    knew, but I fancy it must have been over our heads and that the wind of it may have contributed
    to our disaster. At any rate, the boat sank by the stern, quite
    gently, in three feet of water, leaving the captain and myself, facing each other, on
    our feet. The other three took complete headers, and
    came up again drenched and bubbling. So far there was no great harm. No lives were lost, and we could wade ashore
    in safety. But there were all our stores at the bottom,
    and to make things worse, only two guns out of five remained in a state for service. Mine I had snatched from my knees and held
    over my head, by a sort of instinct. As for the captain, he had carried his over
    his shoulder by a bandoleer, and like a wise man, lock uppermost. The other three had gone down with the boat. To add to our concern, we heard voices already
    drawing near us in the woods along shore, and we had not only the danger of being cut
    off from the stockade in our half-crippled state but the fear before us whether, if Hunter
    and Joyce were attacked by half a dozen, they would have the sense and conduct to stand
    firm. Hunter was steady, that we knew; Joyce was
    a doubtful case—a pleasant, polite man for a valet and to brush one’s clothes, but not
    entirely fitted for a man of war. With all this in our minds, we waded ashore
    as fast as we could, leaving behind us the poor jolly-boat and a good half of all our
    powder and provisions. Chapter 18 – Narrative Continued by the Doctor:
    End of the First Day’s Fighting WE made our best speed across the strip of
    wood that now divided us from the stockade, and at every step we took the voices of the
    buccaneers rang nearer. Soon we could hear their footfalls as they
    ran and the cracking of the branches as they breasted across a bit of thicket. I began to see we should have a brush for
    it in earnest and looked to my priming. “Captain,” said I, “Trelawney is the dead
    shot. Give him your gun; his own is useless.” They exchanged guns, and Trelawney, silent
    and cool as he had been since the beginning of the bustle, hung a moment on his heel to
    see that all was fit for service. At the same time, observing Gray to be unarmed,
    I handed him my cutlass. It did all our hearts good to see him spit
    in his hand, knit his brows, and make the blade sing through the air. It was plain from every line of his body that
    our new hand was worth his salt. Forty paces farther we came to the edge of
    the wood and saw the stockade in front of us. We struck the enclosure about the middle of
    the south side, and almost at the same time, seven mutineers—Job Anderson, the boatswain,
    at their head—appeared in full cry at the southwestern corner. They paused as if taken aback, and before
    they recovered, not only the squire and I, but Hunter and Joyce from the block house,
    had time to fire. The four shots came in rather a scattering
    volley, but they did the business: one of the enemy actually fell, and the rest, without
    hesitation, turned and plunged into the trees. After reloading, we walked down the outside
    of the palisade to see to the fallen enemy. He was stone dead—shot through the heart. We began to rejoice over our good success
    when just at that moment a pistol cracked in the bush, a ball whistled close past my
    ear, and poor Tom Redruth stumbled and fell his length on the ground. Both the squire and I returned the shot, but
    as we had nothing to aim at, it is probable we only wasted powder. Then we reloaded and turned our attention
    to poor Tom. The captain and Gray were already examining
    him, and I saw with half an eye that all was over. I believe the readiness of our return volley
    had scattered the mutineers once more, for we were suffered without further molestation
    to get the poor old gamekeeper hoisted over the stockade and carried, groaning and bleeding,
    into the log-house. Poor old fellow, he had not uttered one word
    of surprise, complaint, fear, or even acquiescence from the very beginning of our troubles till
    now, when we had laid him down in the log-house to die. He had lain like a Trojan behind his mattress
    in the gallery; he had followed every order silently, doggedly, and well; he was the oldest
    of our party by a score of years; and now, sullen, old, serviceable servant, it was he
    that was to die. The squire dropped down beside him on his
    knees and kissed his hand, crying like a child. “Be I going, doctor?” he asked. “Tom, my man,” said I, “you’re going home.” “I wish I had had a lick at them with the
    gun first,” he replied. “Tom,” said the squire, “say you forgive me,
    won’t you?” “Would that be respectful like, from me to
    you, squire?” was the answer. “Howsoever, so be it, amen!” After a little while of silence, he said he
    thought somebody might read a prayer. “It’s the custom, sir,” he added apologetically. And not long after, without another word,
    he passed away. In the meantime the captain, whom I had observed
    to be wonderfully swollen about the chest and pockets, had turned out a great many various
    stores—the British colours, a Bible, a coil of stoutish rope, pen, ink, the log-book,
    and pounds of tobacco. He had found a longish fir-tree lying felled
    and trimmed in the enclosure, and with the help of Hunter he had set it up at the corner
    of the log-house where the trunks crossed and made an angle. Then, climbing on the roof, he had with his
    own hand bent and run up the colours. This seemed mightily to relieve him. He re-entered the log-house and set about
    counting up the stores as if nothing else existed. But he had an eye on Tom’s passage for all
    that, and as soon as all was over, came forward with another flag and reverently spread it
    on the body. “Don’t you take on, sir,” he said, shaking
    the squire’s hand. “All’s well with him; no fear for a hand that’s
    been shot down in his duty to captain and owner. It mayn’t be good divinity, but it’s a fact.” Then he pulled me aside. “Dr. Livesey,” he said, “in how many weeks
    do you and squire expect the consort?” I told him it was a question not of weeks
    but of months, that if we were not back by the end of August Blandly was to send to find
    us, but neither sooner nor later. “You can calculate for yourself,” I said. “Why, yes,” returned the captain, scratching
    his head; “and making a large allowance, sir, for all the gifts of Providence, I should
    say we were pretty close hauled.” “How do you mean?” I asked. “It’s a pity, sir, we lost that second load. That’s what I mean,” replied the captain. “As for powder and shot, we’ll do. But the rations are short, very short—so
    short, Dr. Livesey, that we’re perhaps as well without that extra mouth.” And he pointed to the dead body under the
    flag. Just then, with a roar and a whistle, a round-shot
    passed high above the roof of the log-house and plumped far beyond us in the wood. “Oho!” said the captain. “Blaze away! You’ve little enough powder already, my lads.” At the second trial, the aim was better, and
    the ball descended inside the stockade, scattering a cloud of sand but doing no further damage. “Captain,” said the squire, “the house is
    quite invisible from the ship. It must be the flag they are aiming at. Would it not be wiser to take it in?” “Strike my colours!” cried the captain. “No, sir, not I”; and as soon as he had said
    the words, I think we all agreed with him. For it was not only a piece of stout, seamanly,
    good feeling; it was good policy besides and showed our enemies that we despised their
    cannonade. All through the evening they kept thundering
    away. Ball after ball flew over or fell short or
    kicked up the sand in the enclosure, but they had to fire so high that the shot fell dead
    and buried itself in the soft sand. We had no ricochet to fear, and though one
    popped in through the roof of the log-house and out again through the floor, we soon got
    used to that sort of horse-play and minded it no more than cricket. “There is one good thing about all this,”
    observed the captain; “the wood in front of us is likely clear. The ebb has made a good while; our stores
    should be uncovered. Volunteers to go and bring in pork.” Gray and Hunter were the first to come forward. Well armed, they stole out of the stockade,
    but it proved a useless mission. The mutineers were bolder than we fancied
    or they put more trust in Israel’s gunnery. For four or five of them were busy carrying
    off our stores and wading out with them to one of the gigs that lay close by, pulling
    an oar or so to hold her steady against the current. Silver was in the stern-sheets in command;
    and every man of them was now provided with a musket from some secret magazine of their
    own. The captain sat down to his log, and here
    is the beginning of the entry: Alexander Smollett, master; David Livesey,
    ship’s doctor; Abraham Gray, carpenter’s mate; John Trelawney, owner; John Hunter and Richard
    Joyce, owner’s servants, landsmen—being all that is left faithful of the ship’s company—with
    stores for ten days at short rations, came ashore this day and flew British colours on
    the log-house in Treasure Island. Thomas Redruth, owner’s servant, landsman,
    shot by the mutineers; James Hawkins, cabin-boy— And at the same time, I was wondering over
    poor Jim Hawkins’ fate. A hail on the land side. “Somebody hailing us,” said Hunter, who was
    on guard. “Doctor! Squire! Captain! Hullo, Hunter, is that you?” came the cries. And I ran to the door in time to see Jim Hawkins,
    safe and sound, come climbing over the stockade. Chapter 19 – Narrative Resumed by Jim Hawkins:
    The Garrison in the Stockade AS soon as Ben Gunn saw the colours he came
    to a halt, stopped me by the arm, and sat down. “Now,” said he, “there’s your friends, sure
    enough.” “Far more likely it’s the mutineers,” I answered. “That!” he cried. “Why, in a place like this, where nobody puts
    in but gen’lemen of fortune, Silver would fly the Jolly Roger, you don’t make no doubt
    of that. No, that’s your friends. There’s been blows too, and I reckon your
    friends has had the best of it; and here they are ashore in the old stockade, as was made
    years and years ago by Flint. Ah, he was the man to have a headpiece, was
    Flint! Barring rum, his match were never seen. He were afraid of none, not he; on’y Silver—Silver
    was that genteel.” “Well,” said I, “that may be so, and so be
    it; all the more reason that I should hurry on and join my friends.” “Nay, mate,” returned Ben, “not you. You’re a good boy, or I’m mistook; but you’re
    on’y a boy, all told. Now, Ben Gunn is fly. Rum wouldn’t bring me there, where you’re
    going—not rum wouldn’t, till I see your born gen’leman and gets it on his word of
    honour. And you won’t forget my words; ‘A precious
    sight (that’s what you’ll say), a precious sight more confidence’—and then nips him.” And he pinched me the third time with the
    same air of cleverness. “And when Ben Gunn is wanted, you know where
    to find him, Jim. Just wheer you found him today. And him that comes is to have a white thing
    in his hand, and he’s to come alone. Oh! And you’ll say this: ‘Ben Gunn,’ says you,
    ‘has reasons of his own.'” “Well,” said I, “I believe I understand. You have something to propose, and you wish
    to see the squire or the doctor, and you’re to be found where I found you. Is that all?” “And when? says you,” he added. “Why, from about noon observation to about
    six bells.” “Good,” said I, “and now may I go?” “You won’t forget?” he inquired anxiously. “Precious sight, and reasons of his own, says
    you. Reasons of his own; that’s the mainstay; as
    between man and man. Well, then”—still holding me—”I reckon
    you can go, Jim. And, Jim, if you was to see Silver, you wouldn’t
    go for to sell Ben Gunn? Wild horses wouldn’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 Gunn had spoken and that some day or other a boat might be wanted and
    I should know where to look for one. Then I skirted among the woods until I had
    regained the rear, or shoreward side, of the stockade, and was soon warmly welcomed by
    the faithful party. I had soon told my story and began to look
    about me. The log-house was made of unsquared trunks
    of pine—roof, walls, and floor. The latter stood in several places as much
    as a foot or a foot and a half above the surface of the sand. There was a porch at the door, and under this
    porch the little spring welled up into an artificial basin of a rather odd kind—no
    other than a great ship’s kettle of iron, with the bottom knocked out, and sunk “to
    her bearings,” as the captain said, among the sand. Little had been left besides the framework
    of the house, but in one corner there was a stone slab laid down by way of hearth and
    an old rusty iron basket to contain the fire. 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, Jim, can’t expect to appear as sane as you or me. It doesn’t lie in human nature. Was it cheese you said he had a fancy for?” “Yes, sir, cheese,” I answered. “Well, Jim,” says he, “just see the good that
    comes of being dainty in your food. You’ve seen my snuff-box, haven’t you? And you never saw me take snuff, the reason
    being that in my snuff-box I carry a piece of Parmesan cheese—a cheese made in Italy,
    very nutritious. Well, that’s for Ben Gunn!” Before supper was eaten we buried old Tom
    in the sand and stood round him for a while bare-headed in the breeze. A good deal of firewood had been got in, but
    not enough for the captain’s fancy, and he shook his head over it and told us we “must
    get back to this tomorrow rather livelier.” Then, when we had eaten our pork and each
    had a good stiff glass of brandy grog, the three chiefs got together in a corner to discuss
    our prospects. It appears they were at their wits’ end what
    to do, the stores being so low that we must have been starved into surrender long before
    help came. But our best hope, it was decided, was to
    kill off the buccaneers until they either hauled down their flag or ran away with the
    Hispaniola. From nineteen they were already reduced to
    fifteen, two others were wounded, and one at least—the man shot beside the gun—severely
    wounded, if he were not dead. Every time we had a crack at them, we were
    to take it, saving our own lives, with the extremest care. And besides that, we had two able allies—rum
    and the climate. As for the first, though we were about half
    a mile away, we could hear them roaring and singing late into the night; and as for the
    second, the doctor staked his wig that, camped where they were in the marsh and unprovided
    with remedies, the half of them would be on their backs before a week. “So,” he added, “if we are not all shot down
    first they’ll be glad to be packing in the schooner. It’s always a ship, and they can get to buccaneering
    again, I suppose.” “First ship that ever I lost,” said Captain
    Smollett. I was dead tired, as you may fancy; and when
    I got to sleep, which was not till after a great deal of tossing, I slept like a log
    of wood. The rest had long been up and had already
    breakfasted and increased the pile of firewood by about half as much again when I was wakened
    by a bustle and the sound of voices. “Flag of truce!” I heard someone say; and then, immediately
    after, with a cry of surprise, “Silver himself!” And at that, up I jumped, and rubbing my eyes,
    ran to a loophole in the wall. Chapter 20 – Silver’s Embassy SURE enough, there were two men just outside
    the stockade, one of them waving a white cloth, the other, no less a person than Silver himself,
    standing placidly by. It was still quite early, and the coldest
    morning that I think I ever was abroad in—a chill that pierced into the marrow. The sky was bright and cloudless overhead,
    and the tops of the trees shone rosily in the sun. But where Silver stood with his lieutenant,
    all was still in shadow, and they waded knee-deep in a low white vapour that had crawled during
    the night out of the morass. The chill and the vapour taken together told
    a poor tale of the island. It was plainly a damp, feverish, unhealthy
    spot. “Keep indoors, men,” said the captain. “Ten to one this is a trick.” Then he hailed the buccaneer. “Who goes? Stand, or we fire.” “Flag of truce,” cried Silver. The captain was in the porch, keeping himself
    carefully out of the way of a treacherous shot, should any be intended. He turned and spoke to us, “Doctor’s watch
    on the lookout. Dr. Livesey take the north side, if you please;
    Jim, the east; Gray, west. The watch below, all hands to load muskets. Lively, men, and careful.” And then he turned again to the mutineers. “And what do you want with your flag of truce?”
    he cried. This time it was the other man who replied. “Cap’n Silver, sir, to come on board and make
    terms,” he shouted. “Cap’n Silver! Don’t know him. Who’s he?” cried the captain. And we could hear him adding to himself, “Cap’n,
    is it? My heart, and here’s promotion!” Long John answered for himself. “Me, sir. These poor lads have chosen me cap’n, after
    your desertion, sir”—laying a particular emphasis upon the word “desertion.” “We’re willing to submit, if we can come to
    terms, and no bones about it. All I ask is your word, Cap’n Smollett, to
    let me safe and sound out of this here stockade, and one minute to get out o’ shot before a
    gun is fired.” “My man,” said Captain Smollett, “I have not
    the slightest desire to talk to you. If you wish to talk to me, you can come, that’s
    all. If there’s any treachery, it’ll be on your
    side, and the Lord help you.” “That’s enough, cap’n,” shouted Long John
    cheerily. “A word from you’s enough. I know a gentleman, and you may lay to that.” We could see the man who carried the flag
    of truce attempting to hold Silver back. Nor was that wonderful, seeing how cavalier
    had been the captain’s answer. But Silver laughed at him aloud and slapped
    him on the back as if the idea of alarm had been absurd. Then he advanced to the stockade, threw over
    his crutch, got a leg up, and with great vigour and skill succeeded in surmounting the fence
    and dropping safely to the other side. I will confess that I was far too much taken
    up with what was going on to be of the slightest use as sentry; indeed, I had already deserted
    my eastern loophole and crept up behind the captain, who had now seated himself on the
    threshold, with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and his eyes fixed on the
    water as it bubbled out of the old iron kettle in the sand. He was whistling “Come, Lasses and Lads.” Silver had terrible hard work getting up the
    knoll. What with the steepness of the incline, the
    thick tree stumps, and the soft sand, he and his crutch were as helpless as a ship in stays. But he stuck to it like a man in silence,
    and at last arrived before the captain, whom he saluted in the handsomest style. He was tricked out in his best; an immense
    blue coat, thick with brass buttons, hung as low as to his knees, and a fine laced hat
    was set on the back of his head. “Here you are, my man,” said the captain,
    raising his head. “You had better sit down.” “You ain’t a-going to let me inside, cap’n?”
    complained Long John. “It’s a main cold morning, to be sure, sir,
    to sit outside upon the sand.” “Why, Silver,” said the captain, “if you had
    pleased to be an honest man, you might have been sitting in your galley. It’s your own doing. You’re either my ship’s cook—and then you
    were treated handsome—or Cap’n Silver, a common mutineer and pirate, and then you can
    go hang!” “Well, well, cap’n,” returned the sea-cook,
    sitting down as he was bidden on the sand, “you’ll have to give me a hand up again, that’s
    all. A sweet pretty place you have of it here. Ah, there’s Jim! The top of the morning to you, Jim. Doctor, here’s my service. Why, there you all are together like a happy
    family, in a manner of speaking.” “If you have anything to say, my man, better
    say it,” said the captain. “Right you were, Cap’n Smollett,” replied
    Silver. “Dooty is dooty, to be sure. Well now, you look here, that was a good lay
    of yours last night. I don’t deny it was a good lay. Some of you pretty handy with a handspike-end. And I’ll not deny neither but what some of
    my people was shook—maybe all was shook; maybe I was shook myself; maybe that’s why
    I’m here for terms. But you mark me, cap’n, it won’t do twice,
    by thunder! We’ll have to do sentry-go and ease off a
    point or so on the rum. Maybe you think we were all a sheet in the
    wind’s eye. But I’ll tell you I was sober; I was on’y
    dog tired; and if I’d awoke a second sooner, I’d ‘a caught you at the act, I would. He wasn’t dead when I got round to him, not
    he.” “Well?” says Captain Smollett as cool as can
    be. All that Silver said was a riddle to him,
    but you would never have guessed it from his tone. As for me, I began to have an inkling. Ben Gunn’s last words came back to my mind. I began to suppose that he had paid the buccaneers
    a visit while they all lay drunk together round their fire, and I reckoned up with glee
    that we had only fourteen enemies to deal with. “Well, here it is,” said Silver. “We want that treasure, and we’ll have it—that’s
    our point! You would just as soon save your lives, I
    reckon; and that’s yours. You have a chart, haven’t you?” “That’s as may be,” replied the captain. “Oh, well, you have, I know that,” returned
    Long John. “You needn’t be so husky with a man; there
    ain’t a particle of service in that, and you may lay to it. What I mean is, we want your chart. Now, I never meant you no harm, myself.” “That won’t do with me, my man,” interrupted
    the captain. “We know exactly what you meant to do, and
    we don’t care, for now, you see, you can’t do it.” And the captain looked at him calmly and proceeded
    to fill a pipe. “If Abe Gray—” Silver broke out. “Avast there!” cried Mr. Smollett. “Gray told me nothing, and I asked him nothing;
    and what’s more, I would see you and him and this whole island blown clean out of the water
    into blazes first. So there’s my mind for you, my man, on that.” This little whiff of temper seemed to cool
    Silver down. He had been growing nettled before, but now
    he pulled himself together. “Like enough,” said he. “I would set no limits to what gentlemen might
    consider shipshape, or might not, as the case were. And seein’ as how you are about to take a
    pipe, cap’n, I’ll make so free as do likewise.” And he filled a pipe and lighted it; and the
    two men sat silently smoking for quite a while, now looking each other in the face, now stopping
    their tobacco, now leaning forward to spit. It was as good as the play to see them. “Now,” resumed Silver, “here it is. You give us the chart to get the treasure
    by, and drop shooting poor seamen and stoving of their heads in while asleep. You do that, and we’ll offer you a choice. Either you come aboard along of us, once the
    treasure shipped, and then I’ll give you my affy-davy, upon my word of honour, to clap
    you somewhere safe ashore. Or if that ain’t to your fancy, some of my
    hands being rough and having old scores on account of hazing, then you can stay here,
    you can. We’ll divide stores with you, man for man;
    and I’ll give my affy-davy, as before to speak the first ship I sight, and send ’em here
    to pick you up. Now, you’ll own that’s talking. Handsomer you couldn’t look to get, now you. And I hope”—raising his voice—”that all
    hands in this here block house will overhaul my words, for what is spoke to one is spoke
    to all.” Captain Smollett rose from his seat and knocked
    out the ashes of his pipe in the palm of his left hand. “Is that all?” he asked. “Every last word, by thunder!” answered John. “Refuse that, and you’ve seen the last of
    me but musket-balls.” “Very good,” said the captain. “Now you’ll hear me. If you’ll come up one by one, unarmed, I’ll
    engage to clap you all in irons and take you home to a fair trial in England. If you won’t, my name is Alexander Smollett,
    I’ve flown my sovereign’s colours, and I’ll see you all to Davy Jones. You can’t find the treasure. You can’t sail the ship—there’s not a man
    among you fit to sail the ship. You can’t fight us—Gray, there, got away
    from five of you. Your ship’s in irons, Master Silver; you’re
    on a lee shore, and so you’ll find. I stand here and tell you so; and they’re
    the last good words you’ll get from me, for in the name of heaven, I’ll put a bullet in
    your back when next I meet you. Tramp, my lad. Bundle out of this, please, hand over hand,
    and double quick.” Silver’s face was a picture; his eyes started
    in his head with wrath. He shook the fire out of his pipe. “Give me a hand up!” he cried. “Not I,” returned the captain. “Who’ll give me a hand up?” he roared. Not a man among us moved. Growling the foulest imprecations, he crawled
    along the sand till he got hold of the porch and could hoist himself again upon his crutch. Then he spat into the spring. “There!” he cried. “That’s what I think of ye. Before an hour’s out, I’ll stove in your old
    block house like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour’s out, ye’ll laugh upon the
    other side. Them that die’ll be the lucky ones.” And with a dreadful oath he stumbled off,
    ploughed down the sand, was helped across the stockade, after four or five failures,
    by the man with the flag of truce, and disappeared in an instant afterwards among the trees. Chapter 21 – The Attack AS soon as Silver disappeared, the captain,
    who had been closely watching him, turned towards the interior of the house and found
    not a man of us at his post but Gray. It was the first time we had ever seen him
    angry. “Quarters!” he roared. And then, as we all slunk back to our places,
    “Gray,” he said, “I’ll put your name in the log; you’ve stood by your duty like a seaman. Mr. Trelawney, I’m surprised at you, sir. Doctor, I thought you had worn the king’s
    coat! If that was how you served at Fontenoy, sir,
    you’d have been better in your berth.” The doctor’s watch were all back at their
    loopholes, the rest were busy loading the spare muskets, and everyone with a red face,
    you may be certain, and a flea in his ear, as the saying is. The captain looked on for a while in silence. Then he spoke. “My lads,” said he, “I’ve given Silver a broadside. I pitched it in red-hot on purpose; and before
    the hour’s out, as he said, we shall be boarded. We’re outnumbered, I needn’t tell you that,
    but we fight in shelter; and a minute ago I should have said we fought with discipline. I’ve no manner of doubt that we can drub them,
    if you choose.” Then he went the rounds and saw, as he said,
    that all was clear. On the two short sides of the house, east
    and west, there were only two loopholes; on the south side where the porch was, two again;
    and on the north side, five. There was a round score of muskets for the
    seven of us; the firewood had been built into four piles—tables, you might say—one about
    the middle of each side, and on each of these tables some ammunition and four loaded muskets
    were laid ready to the hand of the defenders. In the middle, the cutlasses lay ranged. “Toss out the fire,” said the captain; “the
    chill is past, and we mustn’t have smoke in our eyes.” The iron fire-basket was carried bodily out
    by Mr. Trelawney, and the embers smothered among sand. “Hawkins hasn’t had his breakfast. Hawkins, help yourself, and back to your post
    to eat it,” continued Captain Smollett. “Lively, now, my lad; you’ll want it before
    you’ve done. Hunter, serve out a round of brandy to all
    hands.” And while this was going on, the captain completed,
    in his own mind, the plan of the defence. “Doctor, you will take the door,” he resumed. “See, and don’t expose yourself; keep within,
    and fire through the porch. Hunter, take the east side, there. Joyce, you stand by the west, my man. Mr. Trelawney, you are the best shot—you
    and Gray will take this long north side, with the five loopholes; it’s there the danger
    is. If they can get up to it and fire in upon
    us through our own ports, things would begin to look dirty. Hawkins, neither you nor I are much account
    at the shooting; we’ll stand by to load and bear a hand.” As the captain had said, the chill was past. As soon as the sun had climbed above our girdle
    of trees, it fell with all its force upon the clearing and drank up the vapours at a
    draught. Soon the sand was baking and the resin melting
    in the logs of the block house. Jackets and coats were flung aside, shirts
    thrown open at the neck and rolled up to the shoulders; and we stood there, each at his
    post, in a fever of heat and anxiety. An hour passed away. “Hang them!” said the captain. “This is as dull as the doldrums. Gray, whistle for a wind.” And just at that moment came the first news
    of the attack. “If you please, sir,” said Joyce, “if I see
    anyone, am I to fire?” “I told you so!” cried the captain. “Thank you, sir,” returned Joyce with the
    same quiet civility. Nothing followed for a time, but the remark
    had set us all on the alert, straining ears and eyes—the musketeers with their pieces
    balanced in their hands, the captain out in the middle of the block house with his mouth
    very tight and a frown on his face. So some seconds passed, till suddenly Joyce
    whipped up his musket and fired. The report had scarcely died away ere it was
    repeated and repeated from without in a scattering volley, shot behind shot, like a string of
    geese, from every side of the enclosure. Several bullets struck the log-house, but
    not one entered; and as the smoke cleared away and vanished, the stockade and the woods
    around it looked as quiet and empty as before. Not a bough waved, not the gleam of a musket-barrel
    betrayed the presence of our foes. “Did you hit your man?” asked the captain. “No, sir,” replied Joyce. “I believe not, sir.” “Next best thing to tell the truth,” muttered
    Captain Smollett. “Load his gun, Hawkins. How many should say there were on your side,
    doctor?” “I know precisely,” said Dr. Livesey. “Three shots were fired on this side. I saw the three flashes—two close together—one
    farther to the west.” “Three!” repeated the captain. “And how many on yours, Mr. Trelawney?” But this was not so easily answered. There had come many from the north—seven
    by the squire’s computation, eight or nine according to Gray. From the east and west only a single shot
    had been fired. It was plain, therefore, that the attack would
    be developed from the north and that on the other three sides we were only to be annoyed
    by a show of hostilities. But Captain Smollett made no change in his
    arrangements. If the mutineers succeeded in crossing the
    stockade, he argued, they would take possession of any unprotected loophole and shoot us down
    like rats in our own stronghold. Nor had we much time left to us for thought. Suddenly, with a loud huzza, a little cloud
    of pirates leaped from the woods on the north side and ran straight on the stockade. At the same moment, the fire was once more
    opened from the woods, and a rifle ball sang through the doorway and knocked the doctor’s
    musket into bits. The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys. Squire and Gray fired again and yet again;
    three men fell, one forwards into the enclosure, two back on the outside. But of these, one was evidently more frightened
    than hurt, for he was on his feet again in a crack and instantly disappeared among the
    trees. Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had
    made good their footing inside our defences, while from the shelter of the woods seven
    or eight men, each evidently supplied with several muskets, kept up a hot though useless
    fire on the log-house. The four who had boarded made straight before
    them for the building, shouting as they ran, and the men among the trees shouted back to
    encourage them. Several shots were fired, but such was the
    hurry of the marksmen that not one appears to have taken effect. In a moment, the four pirates had swarmed
    up the mound and were upon us. The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared
    at the middle loophole. “At ’em, all hands—all hands!” he roared
    in a voice of thunder. At the same moment, another pirate grasped
    Hunter’s musket by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands, plucked it through the loophole,
    and with one stunning blow, laid the poor fellow senseless on the floor. Meanwhile a third, running unharmed all around
    the house, appeared suddenly in the doorway and fell with his cutlass on the doctor. Our position was utterly reversed. A moment since we were firing, under cover,
    at an exposed enemy; now it was we who lay uncovered and could not return a blow. The log-house was full of smoke, to which
    we owed our comparative safety. Cries and confusion, the flashes and reports
    of pistol-shots, and one loud groan rang in my ears. “Out, lads, out, and fight ’em in the open! Cutlasses!” cried the captain. I snatched a cutlass from the pile, and someone,
    at the same time snatching another, gave me a cut across the knuckles which I hardly felt. I dashed out of the door into the clear sunlight. Someone was close behind, I knew not whom. Right in front, the doctor was pursuing his
    assailant down the hill, and just as my eyes fell upon him, beat down his guard and sent
    him sprawling on his back with a great slash across the face. “Round the house, lads! Round the house!” cried the captain; and even
    in the hurly-burly, I perceived a change in his voice. Mechanically, I obeyed, turned eastwards,
    and with my cutlass raised, ran round the corner of the house. Next moment I was face to face with Anderson. He roared aloud, and his hanger went up above
    his head, flashing in the sunlight. I had not time to be afraid, but as the blow
    still hung impending, leaped in a trice upon one side, and missing my foot in the soft
    sand, rolled headlong down the slope. When I had first sallied from the door, the
    other mutineers had been already swarming up the palisade to make an end of us. One man, in a red night-cap, with his cutlass
    in his mouth, had even got upon the top and thrown a leg across. Well, so short had been the interval that
    when I found my feet again all was in the same posture, the fellow with the red night-cap
    still half-way over, another still just showing his head above the top of the stockade. And yet, in this breath of time, the fight
    was over and the victory was ours. Gray, following close behind me, had cut down
    the big boatswain ere he had time to recover from his last blow. Another had been shot at a loophole in the
    very act of firing into the house and now lay in agony, the pistol still smoking in
    his hand. A third, as I had seen, the doctor had disposed
    of at a blow. Of the four who had scaled the palisade, one
    only remained unaccounted for, and he, having left his cutlass on the field, was now clambering
    out again with the fear of death upon him. “Fire—fire from the house!” cried the doctor. “And you, lads, back into cover.” But his words were unheeded, no shot was fired,
    and the last boarder made good his escape and disappeared with the rest into the wood. In three seconds nothing remained of the attacking
    party but the five who had fallen, four on the inside and one on the outside of the palisade. The doctor and Gray and I ran full speed for
    shelter. The survivors would soon be back where they
    had left their muskets, and at any moment the fire might recommence. The house was by this time somewhat cleared
    of smoke, and we saw at a glance the price we had paid for victory. Hunter lay beside his loophole, stunned; Joyce
    by his, shot through the head, never to move again; while right in the centre, the squire
    was supporting the captain, one as pale as the other. “The captain’s wounded,” said Mr. Trelawney. “Have they run?” asked Mr. Smollett. “All that could, you may be bound,” returned
    the doctor; “but there’s five of them will never run again.” “Five!” cried the captain. “Come, that’s better. Five against three leaves us four to nine. That’s better odds than we had at starting. We were seven to nineteen then, or thought
    we were, and that’s as bad to bear.”* *The mutineers were soon only eight in number,
    for the man shot by Mr. Trelawney on board the schooner died that same evening of his
    wound. But this was, of course, not known till after
    by the faithful party. PART FIVE — My Sea Adventure Chapter 22 – How My Sea Adventure Began THERE was no return of the mutineers—not
    so much as another shot out of the woods. They had “got their rations for that day,”
    as the captain put it, and we had the place to ourselves and a quiet time to overhaul
    the wounded and get dinner. Squire and I cooked outside in spite of the
    danger, and even outside we could hardly tell what we were at, for horror of the loud groans
    that reached us from the doctor’s patients. Out of the eight men who had fallen in the
    action, only three still breathed—that one of the pirates who had been shot at the loophole,
    Hunter, and Captain Smollett; and of these, the first two were as good as dead; the mutineer
    indeed died under the doctor’s knife, and Hunter, do what we could, never recovered
    consciousness in this world. He lingered all day, breathing loudly like
    the old buccaneer at home in his apoplectic fit, but the bones of his chest had been crushed
    by the blow and his skull fractured in falling, and some time in the following night, without
    sign or sound, he went to his Maker. As for the captain, his wounds were grievous
    indeed, but not dangerous. No organ was fatally injured. Anderson’s ball—for it was Job that shot
    him first—had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, not badly; the second
    had only torn and displaced some muscles in the calf. He was sure to recover, the doctor said, but
    in the meantime, and for weeks to come, he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much
    as speak when he could help it. My own accidental cut across the knuckles
    was a flea-bite. Doctor Livesey patched it up with plaster
    and pulled my ears for me into the bargain. After dinner the squire and the doctor sat
    by the captain’s side awhile in consultation; and when they had talked to their hearts’
    content, it being then a little past noon, the doctor took up his hat and pistols, girt
    on a cutlass, put the chart in his pocket, and with a musket over his shoulder crossed
    the palisade on the north side and set off briskly through the trees. Gray and I were sitting together at the far
    end of the block house, to be out of earshot of our officers consulting; and Gray took
    his pipe out of his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back again, so thunder-struck he
    was at this occurrence. “Why, in the name of Davy Jones,” said he,
    “is Dr. Livesey mad?” “Why no,” says I. “He’s about the last of this crew for that,
    I take it.” “Well, shipmate,” said Gray, “mad he may not
    be; but if he’s not, you mark my words, I am.” “I take it,” replied I, “the doctor has his
    idea; and if I am right, he’s going now to see Ben Gunn.” I was right, as appeared later; but in the
    meantime, the house being stifling hot and the little patch of sand inside the palisade
    ablaze with midday sun, I began to get another thought into my head, which was not by any
    means so right. What I began to do was to envy the doctor
    walking in the cool shadow of the woods with the birds about him and the pleasant smell
    of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to the hot resin, and so much
    blood about me and so many poor dead bodies lying all around that I took a disgust of
    the place that was almost as strong as fear. All the time I was washing out the block house,
    and then washing up the things from dinner, this disgust and envy kept growing stronger
    and stronger, till at last, being near a bread-bag, and no one then observing me, I took the first
    step towards my escapade and filled both pockets of my coat with biscuit. I was a fool, if you like, and certainly I
    was going to do a foolish, over-bold act; but I was determined to do it with all the
    precautions in my power. These biscuits, should anything befall me,
    would keep me, at least, from starving till far on in the next day. The next thing I laid hold of was a brace
    of pistols, and as I already had a powder-horn and bullets, I felt myself well supplied with
    arms. As for the scheme I had in my head, it was
    not a bad one in itself. I was to go down the sandy spit that divides
    the anchorage on the east from the open sea, find the white rock I had observed last evening,
    and ascertain whether it was there or not that Ben Gunn had hidden his boat, a thing
    quite worth doing, as I still believe. But as I was certain I should not be allowed
    to leave the enclosure, my only plan was to take French leave and slip out when nobody
    was watching, and that was so bad a way of doing it as made the thing itself wrong. But I was only a boy, and I had made my mind
    up. Well, as things at last fell out, I found
    an admirable opportunity. The squire and Gray were busy helping the
    captain with his bandages, the coast was clear, I made a bolt for it over the stockade and
    into the thickest of the trees, and before my absence was observed I was out of cry of
    my companions. This was my second folly, far worse than the
    first, as I left but two sound men to guard the house; but like the first, it was a help
    towards saving all of us. I took my way straight for the east coast
    of the island, for I was determined to go down the sea side of the spit to avoid all
    chance of observation from the anchorage. It was already late in the afternoon, although
    still warm and sunny. As I continued to thread the tall woods, I
    could hear from far before me not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a certain
    tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs which showed me the sea breeze had set in
    higher than usual. Soon cool draughts of air began to reach me,
    and a few steps farther I came forth into the open borders of the grove, and saw the
    sea lying blue and sunny to the horizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along
    the beach. I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure
    Island. The sun might blaze overhead, the air be without
    a breath, the surface smooth and blue, but still these great rollers would be running
    along all the external coast, thundering and thundering by day and night; and I scarce
    believe there is one spot in the island where a man would be out of earshot of their noise. I walked along beside the surf with great
    enjoyment, till, thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I took the cover of some
    thick bushes and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit. Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage. The sea breeze, as though it had the sooner
    blown itself out by its unusual violence, was already at an end; it had been succeeded
    by light, variable airs from the south and south-east, carrying great banks of fog; and
    the anchorage, under lee of Skeleton Island, lay still and leaden as when first we entered
    it. The Hispaniola, in that unbroken mirror, was
    exactly portrayed from the truck to the waterline, the Jolly Roger hanging from her peak. Alongside lay one of the gigs, Silver in the
    stern-sheets—him I could always recognize—while a couple of men were leaning over the stern
    bulwarks, one of them with a red cap—the very rogue that I had seen some hours before
    stride-legs upon the palisade. Apparently they were talking and laughing,
    though at that distance—upwards of a mile—I could, of course, hear no word of what was
    said. All at once there began the most horrid, unearthly
    screaming, which at first startled me badly, though I had soon remembered the voice of
    Captain Flint and even thought I could make out the bird by her bright plumage as she
    sat perched upon her master’s wrist. Soon after, the jolly-boat shoved off and
    pulled for shore, and the man with the red cap and his comrade went below by the cabin
    companion. Just about the same time, the sun had gone
    down behind the Spy-glass, and as the fog was collecting rapidly, it began to grow dark
    in earnest. I saw I must lose no time if I were to find
    the boat that evening. The white rock, visible enough above the brush,
    was still some eighth of a mile further down the spit, and it took me a goodish while to
    get up with it, crawling, often on all fours, among the scrub. Night had almost come when I laid my hand
    on its rough sides. Right below it there was an exceedingly small
    hollow of green turf, hidden by banks and a thick underwood about knee-deep, that grew
    there very plentifully; and in the centre of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of
    goat-skins, like what the gipsies carry about with them in England. I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side
    of the tent, and there was Ben Gunn’s boat—home-made if ever anything was home-made; a rude, lop-sided
    framework of tough wood, and stretched upon that a covering of goat-skin, with the hair
    inside. The thing was extremely small, even for me,
    and I can hardly imagine that it could have floated with a full-sized man. There was one thwart set as low as possible,
    a kind of stretcher in the bows, and a double paddle for propulsion. I had not then seen a coracle, such as the
    ancient Britons made, but I have seen one since, and I can give you no fairer idea of
    Ben Gunn’s boat than by saying it was like the first and the worst coracle ever made
    by man. But the great advantage of the coracle it
    certainly possessed, for it was exceedingly light and portable. Well, now that I had found the boat, you would
    have thought I had had enough of truantry for once, but in the meantime I had taken
    another notion and become so obstinately fond of it that I would have carried it out, I
    believe, in the teeth of Captain Smollett himself. This was to slip out under cover of the night,
    cut the Hispaniola adrift, and let her go ashore where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind that the mutineers,
    after their repulse of the morning, had nothing nearer their hearts than to up anchor and
    away to sea; this, I thought, it would be a fine thing to prevent, and now that I had
    seen how they left their watchmen unprovided with a boat, I thought it might be done with
    little risk. Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made
    a hearty meal of biscuit. It was a night out of ten thousand for my
    purpose. The fog had now buried all heaven. As the last rays of daylight dwindled and
    disappeared, absolute blackness settled down on Treasure Island. And when, at last, I shouldered the coracle
    and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollow where I had supped, there were but two points
    visible on the whole anchorage. One was the great fire on shore, by which
    the defeated pirates lay carousing in the swamp. The other, a mere blur of light upon the darkness,
    indicated the position of the anchored ship. She had swung round to the ebb—her bow was
    now towards me—the only lights on board were in the cabin, and what I saw was merely
    a reflection on the fog of the strong rays that flowed from the stern window. The ebb had already run some time, and I had
    to wade through a long belt of swampy sand, where I sank several times above the ankle,
    before I came to the edge of the retreating water, and wading a little way in, with some
    strength and dexterity, set my coracle, keel downwards, on the surface. Chapter 23 – The Ebb-tide Runs THE coracle—as I had ample reason to know
    before I was done with her—was a very safe boat for a person of my height and weight,
    both buoyant and clever in a seaway; but she was the most cross-grained, lop-sided craft
    to manage. Do as you pleased, she always made more leeway
    than anything else, and turning round and round was the manoeuvre she was best at. Even Ben Gunn himself has admitted that she
    was “queer to handle till you knew her way.” Certainly I did not know her way. She turned in every direction but the one
    I was bound to go; the most part of the time we were broadside on, and I am very sure I
    never should have made the ship at all but for the tide. By good fortune, paddle as I pleased, the
    tide was still sweeping me down; and there lay the Hispaniola right in the fairway, hardly
    to be missed. First she loomed before me like a blot of
    something yet blacker than darkness, then her spars and hull began to take shape, and
    the next moment, as it seemed (for, the farther I went, the brisker grew the current of the
    ebb), I was alongside of her hawser and had laid hold. The hawser was as taut as a bowstring, and
    the current so strong she pulled upon her anchor. All round the hull, in the blackness, the
    rippling current bubbled and chattered like a little mountain stream. One cut with my sea-gully and the Hispaniola
    would go humming down the tide. So far so good, but it next occurred to my
    recollection that a taut hawser, suddenly cut, is a thing as dangerous as a kicking
    horse. Ten to one, if I were so foolhardy as to cut
    the Hispaniola from her anchor, I and the coracle would be knocked clean out of the
    water. This brought me to a full stop, and if fortune
    had not again particularly favoured me, I should have had to abandon my design. But the light airs which had begun blowing
    from the south-east and south had hauled round after nightfall into the south-west. Just while I was meditating, a puff came,
    caught the Hispaniola, and forced her up into the current; and to my great joy, I felt the
    hawser slacken in my grasp, and the hand by which I held it dip for a second under water. With that I made my mind up, took out my gully,
    opened it with my teeth, and cut one strand after another, till the vessel swung only
    by two. Then I lay quiet, waiting to sever these last
    when the strain should be once more lightened by a breath of wind. All this time I had heard the sound of loud
    voices from the cabin, but to say truth, my mind had been so entirely taken up with other
    thoughts that I had scarcely given ear. Now, however, when I had nothing else to do,
    I began to pay more heed. One I recognized for the coxswain’s, Israel
    Hands, that had been Flint’s gunner in former days. The other was, of course, my friend of the
    red night-cap. Both men were plainly the worse of drink,
    and they were still drinking, for even while I was listening, one of them, with a drunken
    cry, opened the stern window and threw out something, which I divined to be an empty
    bottle. But they were not only tipsy; it was plain
    that they were furiously angry. Oaths flew like hailstones, and every now
    and then there came forth such an explosion as I thought was sure to end in blows. But each time the quarrel passed off and the
    voices grumbled lower for a while, until the next crisis came and in its turn passed away
    without result. On shore, I could see the glow of the great
    camp-fire burning warmly through the shore-side trees. Someone was singing, a dull, old, droning
    sailor’s song, with a droop and a quaver at the end of every verse, and seemingly no end
    to it at all but the patience of the singer. I had heard it on the voyage more than once
    and remembered these words: “But one man of her crew alive,
    What put to sea with seventy-five.” And I thought it was a ditty rather too dolefully
    appropriate for a company that had met such cruel losses in the morning. But, indeed, from what I saw, all these buccaneers
    were as callous as the sea they sailed on. At last the breeze came; the schooner sidled
    and drew nearer in the dark; I felt the hawser slacken once more, and with a good, tough
    effort, cut the last fibres through. The breeze had but little action on the coracle,
    and I was almost instantly swept against the bows of the Hispaniola. At the same time, the schooner began to turn
    upon her heel, spinning slowly, end for end, across the current. I wrought like a fiend, for I expected every
    moment to be swamped; and since I found I could not push the coracle directly off, I
    now shoved straight astern. At length I was clear of my dangerous neighbour,
    and just as I gave the last impulsion, my hands came across a light cord that was trailing
    overboard across the stern bulwarks. Instantly I grasped it. Why I should have done so I can hardly say. It was at first mere instinct, but once I
    had it in my hands and found it fast, curiosity began to get the upper hand, and I determined
    I should have one look through the cabin window. I pulled in hand over hand on the cord, and
    when I judged myself near enough, rose at infinite risk to about half my height and
    thus commanded the roof and a slice of the interior of the cabin. By this time the schooner and her little consort
    were gliding pretty swiftly through the water; indeed, we had already fetched up level with
    the camp-fire. The ship was talking, as sailors say, loudly,
    treading the innumerable ripples with an incessant weltering splash; and until I got my eye above
    the window-sill I could not comprehend why the watchmen had taken no alarm. One glance, however, was sufficient; and it
    was only one glance that I durst take from that unsteady skiff. It showed me Hands and his companion locked
    together in deadly wrestle, each with a hand upon the other’s throat. I dropped upon the thwart again, none too
    soon, for I was near overboard. I could see nothing for the moment but these
    two furious, encrimsoned faces swaying together under the smoky lamp, and I shut my eyes to
    let them grow once more familiar with the darkness. The endless ballad had come to an end at last,
    and the whole diminished company about the camp-fire had broken into the chorus I had
    heard so often: “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” I was just thinking how busy drink and the
    devil were at that very moment in the cabin of the Hispaniola, when I was surprised by
    a sudden lurch of the coracle. At the same moment, she yawed sharply and
    seemed to change her course. The speed in the meantime had strangely increased. I opened my eyes at once. All round me were little ripples, combing
    over with a sharp, bristling sound and slightly phosphorescent. The Hispaniola herself, a few yards in whose
    wake I was still being whirled along, seemed to stagger in her course, and I saw her spars
    toss a little against the blackness of the night; nay, as I looked longer, I made sure
    she also was wheeling to the southward. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart jumped
    against my ribs. There, right behind me, was the glow of the
    camp-fire. The current had turned at right angles, sweeping
    round along with it the tall schooner and the little dancing coracle; ever quickening,
    ever bubbling higher, ever muttering louder, it went spinning through the narrows for the
    open sea. Suddenly the schooner in front of me gave
    a violent yaw, turning, perhaps, through twenty degrees; and almost at the same moment one
    shout followed another from on board; I could hear feet pounding on the companion ladder
    and I knew that the two drunkards had at last been interrupted in their quarrel and awakened
    to a sense of their disaster. I lay down flat in the bottom of that wretched
    skiff and devoutly recommended my spirit to its Maker. At the end of the straits, I made sure we
    must fall into some bar of raging breakers, where all my troubles would be ended speedily;
    and though I could, perhaps, bear to die, I could not bear to look upon my fate as it
    approached. So I must have lain for hours, continually
    beaten to and fro upon the billows, now and again wetted with flying sprays, and never
    ceasing to expect death at the next plunge. Gradually weariness grew upon me; a numbness,
    an occasional stupor, fell upon my mind even in the midst of my terrors, until sleep at
    last supervened and in my sea-tossed coracle I lay and dreamed of home and the old Admiral
    Benbow. Chapter 24 – The Cruise of the Coracle IT was broad day when I awoke and found myself
    tossing at the south-west end of Treasure Island. The sun was up but was still hid from me behind
    the great bulk of the Spy-glass, which on this side descended almost to the sea in formidable
    cliffs. Haulbowline Head and Mizzen-mast Hill were
    at my elbow, the hill bare and dark, the head bound with cliffs forty or fifty feet high
    and fringed with great masses of fallen rock. I was scarce a quarter of a mile to seaward,
    and it was my first thought to paddle in and land. That notion was soon given over. Among the fallen rocks the breakers spouted
    and bellowed; loud reverberations, heavy sprays flying and falling, succeeded one another
    from second to second; and I saw myself, if I ventured nearer, dashed to death upon the
    rough shore or spending my strength in vain to scale the beetling crags. Nor was that all, for crawling together on
    flat tables of rock or letting themselves drop into the sea with loud reports I beheld
    huge slimy monsters—soft snails, as it were, of incredible bigness—two or three score
    of them together, making the rocks to echo with their barkings. I have understood since that they were sea
    lions, and entirely harmless. But the look of them, added to the difficulty
    of the shore and the high running of the surf, was more than enough to disgust me of that
    landing-place. I felt willing rather to starve at sea than
    to confront such perils. In the meantime I had a better chance, as
    I supposed, before me. North of Haulbowline Head, the land runs in
    a long way, leaving at low tide a long stretch of yellow sand. To the north of that, again, there comes another
    cape—Cape of the Woods, as it was marked upon the chart—buried in tall green pines,
    which descended to the margin of the sea. I remembered what Silver had said about the
    current that sets northward along the whole west coast of Treasure Island, and seeing
    from my position that I was already under its influence, I preferred to leave Haulbowline
    Head behind me and reserve my strength for an attempt to land upon the kindlier-looking
    Cape of the Woods. There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind blowing steady and gentle from the
    south, there was no contrariety between that and the current, and the billows rose and
    fell unbroken. Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have
    perished; but as it was, it is surprising how easily and securely my little and light
    boat could ride. Often, as I still lay at the bottom and kept
    no more than an eye above the gunwale, I would see a big blue summit heaving close above
    me; yet the coracle would but bounce a little, dance as if on springs, and subside on the
    other side into the trough as lightly as a bird. I began after a little to grow very bold and
    sat up to try my skill at paddling. But even a small change in the disposition
    of the weight will produce violent changes in the behaviour of a coracle. And I had hardly moved before the boat, giving
    up at once her gentle dancing movement, ran straight down a slope of water so steep that
    it made me giddy, and struck her nose, with a spout of spray, deep into the side of the
    next wave. I was drenched and terrified, and fell instantly
    back into my old position, whereupon the coracle seemed to find her head again and led me as
    softly as before among the billows. It was plain she was not to be interfered
    with, and at that rate, since I could in no way influence her course, what hope had I
    left of reaching land? I began to be horribly frightened, but I kept
    my head, for all that. First, moving with all care, I gradually baled
    out the coracle with my sea-cap; then, getting my eye once more above the gunwale, I set
    myself to study how it was she managed to slip so quietly through the rollers. I found each wave, instead of the big, smooth
    glossy mountain it looks from shore or from a vessel’s deck, was for all the world like
    any range of hills on dry land, full of peaks and smooth places and valleys. The coracle, left to herself, turning from
    side to side, threaded, so to speak, her way through these lower parts and avoided the
    steep slopes and higher, toppling summits of the wave. “Well, now,” thought I to myself, “it is plain
    I must lie where I am and not disturb the balance; but it is plain also that I can put
    the paddle over the side and from time to time, in smooth places, give her a shove or
    two towards land.” No sooner thought upon than done. There I lay on my elbows in the most trying
    attitude, and every now and again gave a weak stroke or two to turn her head to shore. It was very tiring and slow work, yet I did
    visibly gain ground; and as we drew near the Cape of the Woods, though I saw I must infallibly
    miss that point, I had still made some hundred yards of easting. I was, indeed, close in. I could see the cool green tree-tops swaying
    together in the breeze, and I felt sure I should make the next promontory without fail. It was high time, for I now began to be tortured
    with thirst. The glow of the sun from above, its thousandfold
    reflection from the waves, the sea-water that fell and dried upon me, caking my very lips
    with salt, combined to make my throat burn and my brain ache. The sight of the trees so near at hand had
    almost made me sick with longing, but the current had soon carried me past the point,
    and as the next reach of sea opened out, I beheld a sight that changed the nature of
    my thoughts. Right in front of me, not half a mile away,
    I beheld the Hispaniola under sail. I made sure, of course, that I should be taken;
    but I was so distressed for want of water that I scarce knew whether to be glad or sorry
    at the thought, and long before I had come to a conclusion, surprise had taken entire
    possession of my mind and I could do nothing but stare and wonder. The Hispaniola was under her main-sail and
    two jibs, and the beautiful white canvas shone in the sun like snow or silver. When I first sighted her, all her sails were
    drawing; she was lying a course about north-west, and I presumed the men on board were going
    round the island on their way back to the anchorage. Presently she began to fetch more and more
    to the westward, so that I thought they had sighted me and were going about in chase. At last, however, she fell right into the
    wind’s eye, was taken dead aback, and stood there awhile helpless, with her sails shivering. “Clumsy fellows,” said I; “they must still
    be drunk as owls.” And I thought how Captain Smollett would have
    set them skipping. Meanwhile the schooner gradually fell off
    and filled again upon another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or so, and brought up
    once more dead in the wind’s eye. Again and again was this repeated. To and fro, up and down, north, south, east,
    and west, the Hispaniola sailed by swoops and dashes, and at each repetition ended as
    she had begun, with idly flapping canvas. It became plain to me that nobody was steering. And if so, where were the men? Either they were dead drunk or had deserted
    her, I thought, and perhaps if I could get on board I might return the vessel to her
    captain. The current was bearing coracle and schooner
    southward at an equal rate. As for the latter’s sailing, it was so wild
    and intermittent, and she hung each time so long in irons, that she certainly gained nothing,
    if she did not even lose. If only I dared to sit up and paddle, I made
    sure that I could overhaul her. The scheme had an air of adventure that inspired
    me, and the thought of the water breaker beside the fore companion doubled my growing courage. Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by
    another cloud of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose and set myself, with all my
    strength and caution, to paddle after the unsteered Hispaniola. Once I shipped a sea so heavy that I had to
    stop and bail, with my heart fluttering like a bird, but gradually I got into the way of
    the thing and guided my coracle among the waves, with only now and then a blow upon
    her bows and a dash of foam in my face. I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner;
    I could see the brass glisten on the tiller as it banged about, and still no soul appeared
    upon her decks. I could not choose but suppose she was deserted. If not, the men were lying drunk below, where
    I might batten them down, perhaps, and do what I chose with the ship. For some time she had been doing the worse
    thing possible for me—standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing, of course,
    all the time. Each time she fell off, her sails partly filled,
    and these brought her in a moment right to the wind again. I have said this was the worst thing possible
    for me, for helpless as she looked in this situation, with the canvas cracking like cannon
    and the blocks trundling and banging on the deck, she still continued to run away from
    me, not only with the speed of the current, but by the whole amount of her leeway, which
    was naturally great. But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell for some seconds, very low,
    and the current gradually turning her, the Hispaniola revolved slowly round her centre
    and at last presented me her stern, with the cabin window still gaping open and the lamp
    over the table still burning on into the day. The main-sail hung drooped like a banner. She was stock-still but for the current. For the last little while I had even lost,
    but now redoubling my efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase. I was not a hundred yards from her when the
    wind came again in a clap; she filled on the port tack and was off again, stooping and
    skimming like a swallow. My first impulse was one of despair, but my
    second was towards joy. Round she came, till she was broadside on
    to me—round still till she had covered a half and then two thirds and then three quarters
    of the distance that separated us. I could see the waves boiling white under
    her forefoot. Immensely tall she looked to me from my low
    station in the coracle. And then, of a sudden, I began to comprehend. I had scarce time to think—scarce time to
    act and save myself. I was on the summit of one swell when the
    schooner came stooping over the next. The bowsprit was over my head. I sprang to my feet and leaped, stamping the
    coracle under water. With one hand I caught the jib-boom, while
    my foot was lodged between the stay and the brace; and as I still clung there panting,
    a dull blow told me that the schooner had charged down upon and struck the coracle and
    that I was left without retreat on the Hispaniola. Chapter 25 – I Strike the Jolly Roger I HAD scarce gained a position on the bowsprit
    when the flying jib flapped and filled upon the other tack, with a report like a gun. The schooner trembled to her keel under the
    reverse, but next moment, the other sails still drawing, the jib flapped back again
    and hung idle. This had nearly tossed me off into the sea;
    and now I lost no time, crawled back along the bowsprit, and tumbled head foremost on
    the deck. I was on the lee side of the forecastle, and
    the mainsail, which was still drawing, concealed from me a certain portion of the after-deck. Not a soul was to be seen. The planks, which had not been swabbed since
    the mutiny, bore the print of many feet, and an empty bottle, broken by the neck, tumbled
    to and fro like a live thing in the scuppers. Suddenly the Hispaniola came right into the
    wind. The jibs behind me cracked aloud, the rudder
    slammed to, the whole ship gave a sickening heave and shudder, and at the same moment
    the main-boom swung inboard, the sheet groaning in the blocks, and showed me the lee after-deck. There were the two watchmen, sure enough:
    red-cap on his back, as stiff as a handspike, with his arms stretched out like those of
    a crucifix and his teeth showing through his open lips; Israel Hands propped against the
    bulwarks, his chin on his chest, his hands lying open before him on the deck, his face
    as white, under its tan, as a tallow candle. For a while the ship kept bucking and sidling
    like a vicious horse, the sails filling, now on one tack, now on another, and the boom
    swinging to and fro till the mast groaned aloud under the strain. Now and again too there would come a cloud
    of light sprays over the bulwark and a heavy blow of the ship’s bows against the swell;
    so much heavier weather was made of it by this great rigged ship than by my home-made,
    lop-sided coracle, now gone to the bottom of the sea. At every jump of the schooner, red-cap slipped
    to and fro, but—what was ghastly to behold—neither his attitude nor his fixed teeth-disclosing
    grin was anyway disturbed by this rough usage. At every jump too, Hands appeared still more
    to sink into himself and settle down upon the deck, his feet sliding ever the farther
    out, and the whole body canting towards the stern, so that his face became, little by
    little, hid from me; and at last I could see nothing beyond his ear and the frayed ringlet
    of one whisker. At the same time, I observed, around both
    of them, splashes of dark blood upon the planks and began to feel sure that they had killed
    each other in their drunken wrath. While I was thus looking and wondering, in
    a calm moment, when the ship was still, Israel Hands turned partly round and with a low moan
    writhed himself back to the position in which I had seen him first. The moan, which told of pain and deadly weakness,
    and the way in which his jaw hung open went right to my heart. But when I remembered the talk I had overheard
    from the apple barrel, all pity left me. I walked aft until I reached the main-mast. “Come aboard, Mr. Hands,” I said ironically. He rolled his eyes round heavily, but he was
    too far gone to express surprise. All he could do was to utter one word, “Brandy.” It occurred to me there was no time to lose,
    and dodging the boom as it once more lurched across the deck, I slipped aft and down the
    companion stairs into the cabin. It was such a scene of confusion as you can
    hardly fancy. All the lockfast places had been broken open
    in quest of the chart. The floor was thick with mud where ruffians
    had sat down to drink or consult after wading in the marshes round their camp. The bulkheads, all painted in clear white
    and beaded round with gilt, bore a pattern of dirty hands. Dozens of empty bottles clinked together in
    corners to the rolling of the ship. One of the doctor’s medical books lay open
    on the table, half of the leaves gutted out, I suppose, for pipelights. In the midst of all this the lamp still cast
    a smoky glow, obscure and brown as umber. I went into the cellar; all the barrels were
    gone, and of the bottles a most surprising number had been drunk out and thrown away. Certainly, since the mutiny began, not a man
    of them could ever have been sober. Foraging about, I found a bottle with some
    brandy left, for Hands; and for myself I routed out some biscuit, some pickled fruits, a great
    bunch of raisins, and a piece of cheese. With these I came on deck, put down my own
    stock behind the rudder head and well out of the coxswain’s reach, went forward to the
    water-breaker, and had a good deep drink of water, and then, and not till then, gave Hands
    the brandy. He must have drunk a gill before he took the
    bottle from his mouth. “Aye,” said he, “by thunder, but I wanted
    some o’ that!” I had sat down already in my own corner and
    begun to eat. “Much hurt?” I asked him. He grunted, or rather, I might say, he barked. “If that doctor was aboard,” he said, “I’d
    be right enough in a couple of turns, but I don’t have no manner of luck, you see, and
    that’s what’s the matter with me. As for that swab, he’s good and dead, he is,”
    he added, indicating the man with the red cap. “He warn’t no seaman anyhow. And where mought you have come from?” “Well,” said I, “I’ve come aboard to take
    possession of this ship, Mr. Hands; and you’ll please regard me as your captain until further
    notice.” He looked at me sourly enough but said nothing. Some of the colour had come back into his
    cheeks, though he still looked very sick and still continued to slip out and settle down
    as the ship banged about. “By the by,” I continued, “I can’t have these
    colours, Mr. Hands; and by your leave, I’ll strike ’em. Better none than these.” And again dodging the boom, I ran to the colour
    lines, handed down their cursed black flag, and chucked it overboard. “God save the king!” said I, waving my cap. “And there’s an end to Captain Silver!” He watched me keenly and slyly, his chin all
    the while on his breast. “I reckon,” he said at last, “I reckon, Cap’n
    Hawkins, you’ll kind of want to get ashore now. S’pose we talks.” “Why, yes,” says I, “with all my heart, Mr.
    Hands. Say on.” And I went back to my meal with a good appetite. “This man,” he began, nodding feebly at the
    corpse “—O’Brien were his name, a rank Irelander—this man and me got the canvas on her, meaning
    for to sail her back. Well, he’s dead now, he is—as dead as bilge;
    and who’s to sail this ship, I don’t see. Without I gives you a hint, you ain’t that
    man, as far’s I can tell. Now, look here, you gives me food and drink
    and a old scarf or ankecher to tie my wound up, you do, and I’ll tell you how to sail
    her, and that’s about square all round, I take it.” “I’ll tell you one thing,” says I: “I’m not
    going back to Captain Kidd’s anchorage. I mean to get into North Inlet and beach her
    quietly there.” “To be sure you did,” he cried. “Why, I ain’t sich an infernal lubber after
    all. I can see, can’t I? I’ve tried my fling, I have, and I’ve lost,
    and it’s you has the wind of me. North Inlet? Why, I haven’t no ch’ice, not I! I’d help you sail her up to Execution Dock,
    by thunder! So I would.” Well, as it seemed to me, there was some sense
    in this. We struck our bargain on the spot. In three minutes I had the Hispaniola sailing
    easily before the wind along the coast of Treasure Island, with good hopes of turning
    the northern point ere noon and beating down again as far as North Inlet before high water,
    when we might beach her safely and wait till the subsiding tide permitted us to land. Then I lashed the tiller and went below to
    my own chest, where I got a soft silk handkerchief of my mother’s. With this, and with my aid, Hands bound up
    the great bleeding stab he had received in the thigh, and after he had eaten a little
    and had a swallow or two more of the brandy, he began to pick up visibly, sat straighter
    up, spoke louder and clearer, and looked in every way another man. The breeze served us admirably. We skimmed before it like a bird, the coast
    of the island flashing by and the view changing every minute. Soon we were past the high lands and bowling
    beside low, sandy country, sparsely dotted with dwarf pines, and soon we were beyond
    that again and had turned the corner of the rocky hill that ends the island on the north. I was greatly elated with my new command,
    and pleased with the bright, sunshiny weather and these different prospects of the coast. I had now plenty of water and good things
    to eat, and my conscience, which had smitten me hard for my desertion, was quieted by the
    great conquest I had made. I should, I think, have had nothing left me
    to desire but for the eyes of the coxswain as they followed me derisively about the deck
    and the odd smile that appeared continually on his face. It was a smile that had in it something both
    of pain and weakness—a haggard old man’s smile; but there was, besides that, a grain
    of derision, a shadow of treachery, in his expression as he craftily watched, and watched,
    and watched me at my work. Chapter 26 – Israel Hands THE wind, serving us to a desire, now hauled
    into the west. We could run so much the easier from the north-east
    corner of the island to the mouth of the North Inlet. Only, as we had no power to anchor and dared
    not beach her till the tide had flowed a good deal farther, time hung on our hands. The coxswain told me how to lay the ship to;
    after a good many trials I succeeded, and we both sat in silence over another meal. “Cap’n,” said he at length with that same
    uncomfortable smile, “here’s my old shipmate, O’Brien; s’pose you was to heave him overboard. I ain’t partic’lar as a rule, and I don’t
    take no blame for settling his hash, but I don’t reckon him ornamental now, do you?” “I’m not strong enough, and I don’t like the
    job; and there he lies, for me,” said I. “This here’s an unlucky ship, this Hispaniola,
    Jim,” he went on, blinking. “There’s a power of men been killed in this
    Hispaniola—a sight o’ poor seamen dead and gone since you and me took ship to Bristol. I never seen sich dirty luck, not I. There was this here O’Brien now—he’s dead,
    ain’t he? Well now, I’m no scholar, and you’re a lad
    as can read and figure, and to put it straight, do you take it as a dead man is dead for good,
    or do he come alive again?” “You can kill the body, Mr. Hands, but not
    the spirit; you must know that already,” I replied. “O’Brien there is in another world, and may
    be watching us.” “Ah!” says he. “Well, that’s unfort’nate—appears as if
    killing parties was a waste of time. Howsomever, sperrits don’t reckon for much,
    by what I’ve seen. I’ll chance it with the sperrits, Jim. And now, you’ve spoke up free, and I’ll take
    it kind if you’d step down into that there cabin and get me a—well, a—shiver my timbers! I can’t hit the name on ‘t; well, you get
    me a bottle of wine, Jim—this here brandy’s too strong for my head.” Now, the coxswain’s hesitation seemed to be
    unnatural, and as for the notion of his preferring wine to brandy, I entirely disbelieved it. The whole story was a pretext. He wanted me to leave the deck—so much was
    plain; but with what purpose I could in no way imagine. His eyes never met mine; they kept wandering
    to and fro, up and down, now with a look to the sky, now with a flitting glance upon the
    dead O’Brien. All the time he kept smiling and putting his
    tongue out in the most guilty, embarrassed manner, so that a child could have told that
    he was bent on some deception. I was prompt with my answer, however, for
    I saw where my advantage lay and that with a fellow so densely stupid I could easily
    conceal my suspicions to the end. “Some wine?” I said. “Far better. Will you have white or red?” “Well, I reckon it’s about the blessed same
    to me, shipmate,” he replied; “so it’s strong, and plenty of it, what’s the odds?” “All right,” I answered. “I’ll bring you port, Mr. Hands. But I’ll have to dig for it.” With that I scuttled down the companion with
    all the noise I could, slipped off my shoes, ran quietly along the sparred gallery, mounted
    the forecastle ladder, and popped my head out of the fore companion. I knew he would not expect to see me there,
    yet I took every precaution possible, and certainly the worst of my suspicions proved
    too true. He had risen from his position to his hands
    and knees, and though his leg obviously hurt him pretty sharply when he moved—for I could
    hear him stifle a groan—yet it was at a good, rattling rate that he trailed himself
    across the deck. In half a minute he had reached the port scuppers
    and picked, out of a coil of rope, a long knife, or rather a short dirk, discoloured
    to the hilt with blood. He looked upon it for a moment, thrusting
    forth his under jaw, tried the point upon his hand, and then, hastily concealing it
    in the bosom of his jacket, trundled back again into his old place against the bulwark. This was all that I required to know. Israel could move about, he was now armed,
    and if he had been at so much trouble to get rid of me, it was plain that I was meant to
    be the victim. What he would do afterwards—whether he would
    try to crawl right across the island from North Inlet to the camp among the swamps or
    whether he would fire Long Tom, trusting that his own comrades might come first to help
    him—was, of course, more than I could say. Yet I felt sure that I could trust him in
    one point, since in that our interests jumped together, and that was in the disposition
    of the schooner. We both desired to have her stranded safe
    enough, in a sheltered place, and so that, when the time came, she could be got off again
    with as little labour and danger as might be; and until that was done I considered that
    my life would certainly be spared. While I was thus turning the business over
    in my mind, I had not been idle with my body. I had stolen back to the cabin, slipped once
    more into my shoes, and laid my hand at random on a bottle of wine, and now, with this for
    an excuse, I made my reappearance on the deck. Hands lay as I had left him, all fallen together
    in a bundle and with his eyelids lowered as though he were too weak to bear the light. He looked up, however, at my coming, knocked
    the neck off the bottle like a man who had done the same thing often, and took a good
    swig, with his favourite toast of “Here’s luck!” Then he lay quiet for a little, and then,
    pulling out a stick of tobacco, begged me to cut him a quid. “Cut me a junk o’ that,” says he, “for I haven’t
    no knife and hardly strength enough, so be as I had. Ah, Jim, Jim, I reckon I’ve missed stays! Cut me a quid, as’ll likely be the last, lad,
    for I’m for my long home, and no mistake.” “Well,” said I, “I’ll cut you some tobacco,
    but if I was you and thought myself so badly, I would go to my prayers like a Christian
    man.” “Why?” said he. “Now, you tell me why.” “Why?” I cried. “You were asking me just now about the dead. You’ve broken your trust; you’ve lived in
    sin and lies and blood; there’s a man you killed lying at your feet this moment, and
    you ask me why! For God’s mercy, Mr. Hands, that’s why.” I spoke with a little heat, thinking of the
    bloody dirk he had hidden in his pocket and designed, in his ill thoughts, to end me with. He, for his part, took a great draught of
    the wine and spoke with the most unusual solemnity. “For thirty years,” he said, “I’ve sailed
    the seas and seen good and bad, better and worse, fair weather and foul, provisions running
    out, knives going, and what not. Well, now I tell you, I never seen good come
    o’ goodness yet. Him as strikes first is my fancy; dead men
    don’t bite; them’s my views—amen, so be it. And now, you look here,” he added, suddenly
    changing his tone, “we’ve had about enough of this foolery. The tide’s made good enough by now. You just take my orders, Cap’n Hawkins, and
    we’ll sail slap in and be done with it.” All told, we had scarce two miles to run;
    but the navigation was delicate, the entrance to this northern anchorage was not only narrow
    and shoal, but lay east and west, so that the schooner must be nicely handled to be
    got in. I think I was a good, prompt subaltern, and
    I am very sure that Hands was an excellent pilot, for we went about and about and dodged
    in, shaving the banks, with a certainty and a neatness that were a pleasure to behold. Scarcely had we passed the heads before the
    land closed around us. The shores of North Inlet were as thickly
    wooded as those of the southern anchorage, but the space was longer and narrower and
    more like, what in truth it was, the estuary of a river. Right before us, at the southern end, we saw
    the wreck of a ship in the last stages of dilapidation. It had been a great vessel of three masts
    but had lain so long exposed to the injuries of the weather that it was hung about with
    great webs of dripping seaweed, and on the deck of it shore bushes had taken root and
    now flourished thick with flowers. It was a sad sight, but it showed us that
    the anchorage was calm. “Now,” said Hands, “look there; there’s a
    pet bit for to beach a ship in. Fine flat sand, never a cat’s paw, trees all
    around of it, and flowers a-blowing like a garding on that old ship.” “And once beached,” I inquired, “how shall
    we get her off again?” “Why, so,” he replied: “you take a line ashore
    there on the other side at low water, take a turn about one of them big pines; bring
    it back, take a turn around the capstan, and lie to for the tide. Come high water, all hands take a pull upon
    the line, and off she comes as sweet as natur’. And now, boy, you stand by. We’re near the bit now, and she’s too much
    way on her. Starboard a little—so—steady—starboard—larboard
    a little—steady—steady!” So he issued his commands, which I breathlessly
    obeyed, till, all of a sudden, he cried, “Now, my hearty, luff!” And I put the helm hard up, and the Hispaniola
    swung round rapidly and ran stem on for the low, wooded shore. The excitement of these last manoeuvres had
    somewhat interfered with the watch I had kept hitherto, sharply enough, upon the coxswain. Even then I was still so much interested,
    waiting for the ship to touch, that I had quite forgot the peril that hung over my head
    and stood craning over the starboard bulwarks and watching the ripples spreading wide before
    the bows. I might have fallen without a struggle for
    my life had not a sudden disquietude seized upon me and made me turn my head. Perhaps I had heard a creak or seen his shadow
    moving with the tail of my eye; perhaps it was an instinct like a cat’s; but, sure enough,
    when I looked round, there was Hands, already half-way towards me, with the dirk in his
    right hand. We must both have cried out aloud when our
    eyes met, but while mine was the shrill cry of terror, his was a roar of fury like a charging
    bully’s. At the same instant, he threw himself forward
    and I leapt sideways towards the bows. As I did so, I let go of the tiller, which
    sprang sharp to leeward, and I think this saved my life, for it struck Hands across
    the chest and stopped him, for the moment, dead. Before he could recover, I was safe out of
    the corner where he had me trapped, with all the deck to dodge about. Just forward of the main-mast I stopped, drew
    a pistol from my pocket, took a cool aim, though he had already turned and was once
    more coming directly after me, and drew the trigger. The hammer fell, but there followed neither
    flash nor sound; the priming was useless with sea-water. I cursed myself for my neglect. Why had not I, long before, reprimed and reloaded
    my only weapons? Then I should not have been as now, a mere
    fleeing sheep before this butcher. Wounded as he was, it was wonderful how fast
    he could move, his grizzled hair tumbling over his face, and his face itself as red
    as a red ensign with his haste and fury. I had no time to try my other pistol, nor
    indeed much inclination, for I was sure it would be useless. One thing I saw plainly: I must not simply
    retreat before him, or he would speedily hold me boxed into the bows, as a moment since
    he had so nearly boxed me in the stern. Once so caught, and nine or ten inches of
    the blood-stained dirk would be my last experience on this side of eternity. I placed my palms against the main-mast, which
    was of a goodish bigness, and waited, every nerve upon the stretch. Seeing that I meant to dodge, he also paused;
    and a moment or two passed in feints on his part and corresponding movements upon mine. It was such a game as I had often played at
    home about the rocks of Black Hill Cove, but never before, you may be sure, with such a
    wildly beating heart as now. Still, as I say, it was a boy’s game, and
    I thought I could hold my own at it against an elderly seaman with a wounded thigh. Indeed my courage had begun to rise so high
    that I allowed myself a few darting thoughts on what would be the end of the affair, and
    while I saw certainly that I could spin it out for long, I saw no hope of any ultimate
    escape. Well, while things stood thus, suddenly the
    Hispaniola struck, staggered, ground for an instant in the sand, and then, swift as a
    blow, canted over to the port side till the deck stood at an angle of forty-five degrees
    and about a puncheon of water splashed into the scupper holes and lay, in a pool, between
    the deck and bulwark. We were both of us capsized in a second, and
    both of us rolled, almost together, into the scuppers, the dead red-cap, with his arms
    still spread out, tumbling stiffly after us. So near were we, indeed, that my head came
    against the coxswain’s foot with a crack that made my teeth rattle. Blow and all, I was the first afoot again,
    for Hands had got involved with the dead body. The sudden canting of the ship had made the
    deck no place for running on; I had to find some new way of escape, and that upon the
    instant, for my foe was almost touching me. Quick as thought, I sprang into the mizzen
    shrouds, rattled up hand over hand, and did not draw a breath till I was seated on the
    cross-trees. I had been saved by being prompt; the dirk
    had struck not half a foot below me as I pursued my upward flight; and there stood Israel Hands
    with his mouth open and his face upturned to mine, a perfect statue of surprise and
    disappointment. Now that I had a moment to myself, I lost
    no time in changing the priming of my pistol, and then, having one ready for service, and
    to make assurance doubly sure, I proceeded to draw the load of the other and recharge
    it afresh from the beginning. My new employment struck Hands all of a heap;
    he began to see the dice going against him, and after an obvious hesitation, he also hauled
    himself heavily into the shrouds, and with the dirk in his teeth, began slowly and painfully
    to mount. It cost him no end of time and groans to haul
    his wounded leg behind him, and I had quietly finished my arrangements before he was much
    more than a third of the way up. Then, with a pistol in either hand, I addressed
    him. “One more step, Mr. Hands,” said I, “and I’ll
    blow your brains out! Dead men don’t bite, you know,” I added with
    a chuckle. He stopped instantly. I could see by the working of his face that
    he was trying to think, and the process was so slow and laborious that, in my new-found
    security, I laughed aloud. At last, with a swallow or two, he spoke,
    his face still wearing the same expression of extreme perplexity. In order to speak he had to take the dagger
    from his mouth, but in all else he remained unmoved. “Jim,” says he, “I reckon we’re fouled, you
    and me, and we’ll have to sign articles. I’d have had you but for that there lurch,
    but I don’t have no luck, not I; and I reckon I’ll have to strike, which comes hard, you
    see, for a master mariner to a ship’s younker like you, Jim.” I was drinking in his words and smiling away,
    as conceited as a cock upon a wall, when, all in a breath, back went his right hand
    over his shoulder. Something sang like an arrow through the air;
    I felt a blow and then a sharp pang, and there I was pinned by the shoulder to the mast. In the horrid pain and surprise of the moment—I
    scarce can say it was by my own volition, and I am sure it was without a conscious aim—both
    my pistols went off, and both escaped out of my hands. They did not fall alone; with a choked cry,
    the coxswain loosed his grasp upon the shrouds and plunged head first into the water. Chapter 27 – “Pieces of Eight” OWING to the cant of the vessel, the masts
    hung far out over the water, and from my perch on the cross-trees I had nothing below me
    but the surface of the bay. Hands, who was not so far up, was in consequence
    nearer to the ship and fell between me and the bulwarks. He rose once to the surface in a lather of
    foam and blood and then sank again for good. As the water settled, I could see him lying
    huddled together on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel’s sides. A fish or two whipped past his body. Sometimes, by the quivering of the water,
    he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying to rise. But he was dead enough, for all that, being
    both shot and drowned, and was food for fish in the very place where he had designed my
    slaughter. I was no sooner certain of this than I began
    to feel sick, faint, and terrified. The hot blood was running over my back and
    chest. The dirk, where it had pinned my shoulder
    to the mast, seemed to burn like a hot iron; yet it was not so much these real sufferings
    that distressed me, for these, it seemed to me, I could bear without a murmur; it was
    the horror I had upon my mind of falling from the cross-trees into that still green water,
    beside the body of the coxswain. I clung with both hands till my nails ached,
    and I shut my eyes as if to cover up the peril. Gradually my mind came back again, my pulses
    quieted down to a more natural time, and I was once more in possession of myself. It was my first thought to pluck forth the
    dirk, but either it stuck too hard or my nerve failed me, and I desisted with a violent shudder. Oddly enough, that very shudder did the business. The knife, in fact, had come the nearest in
    the world to missing me altogether; it held me by a mere pinch of skin, and this the shudder
    tore away. The blood ran down the faster, to be sure,
    but I was my own master again and only tacked to the mast by my coat and shirt. These last I broke through with a sudden jerk,
    and then regained the deck by the starboard shrouds. For nothing in the world would I have again
    ventured, shaken as I was, upon the overhanging port shrouds from which Israel had so lately
    fallen. I went below and did what I could for my wound;
    it pained me a good deal and still bled freely, but it was neither deep nor dangerous, nor
    did it greatly gall me when I used my arm. Then I looked around me, and as the ship was
    now, in a sense, my own, I began to think of clearing it from its last passenger—the
    dead man, O’Brien. He had pitched, as I have said, against the
    bulwarks, where he lay like some horrible, ungainly sort of puppet, life-size, indeed,
    but how different from life’s colour or life’s comeliness! In that position I could easily have my way
    with him, and as the habit of tragical adventures had worn off almost all my terror for the
    dead, I took him by the waist as if he had been a sack of bran and with one good heave,
    tumbled him overboard. He went in with a sounding plunge; the red
    cap came off and remained floating on the surface; and as soon as the splash subsided,
    I could see him and Israel lying side by side, both wavering with the tremulous movement
    of the water. O’Brien, though still quite a young man, was
    very bald. There he lay, with that bald head across the
    knees of the man who had killed him and the quick fishes steering to and fro over both. I was now alone upon the ship; the tide had
    just turned. The sun was within so few degrees of setting
    that already the shadow of the pines upon the western shore began to reach right across
    the anchorage and fall in patterns on the deck. The evening breeze had sprung up, and though
    it was well warded off by the hill with the two peaks upon the east, the cordage had begun
    to sing a little softly to itself and the idle sails to rattle to and fro. I began to see a danger to the ship. The jibs I speedily doused and brought tumbling
    to the deck, but the main-sail was a harder matter. Of course, when the schooner canted over,
    the boom had swung out-board, and the cap of it and a foot or two of sail hung even
    under water. I thought this made it still more dangerous;
    yet the strain was so heavy that I half feared to meddle. At last I got my knife and cut the halyards. The peak dropped instantly, a great belly
    of loose canvas floated broad upon the water, and since, pull as I liked, I could not budge
    the downhall, that was the extent of what I could accomplish. For the rest, the Hispaniola must trust to
    luck, like myself. By this time the whole anchorage had fallen
    into shadow—the last rays, I remember, falling through a glade of the wood and shining bright
    as jewels on the flowery mantle of the wreck. It began to be chill; the tide was rapidly
    fleeting seaward, the schooner settling more and more on her beam-ends. I scrambled forward and looked over. It seemed shallow enough, and holding the
    cut hawser in both hands for a last security, I let myself drop softly overboard. The water scarcely reached my waist; the sand
    was firm and covered with ripple marks, and I waded ashore in great spirits, leaving the
    Hispaniola on her side, with her main-sail trailing wide upon the surface of the bay. About the same time, the sun went fairly down
    and the breeze whistled low in the dusk among the tossing pines. At least, and at last, I was off the sea,
    nor had I returned thence empty-handed. There lay the schooner, clear at last from
    buccaneers and ready for our own men to board and get to sea again. I had nothing nearer my fancy than to get
    home to the stockade and boast of my achievements. Possibly I might be blamed a bit for my truantry,
    but the recapture of the Hispaniola was a clenching answer, and I hoped that even Captain
    Smollett would confess I had not lost my time. So thinking, and in famous spirits, I began
    to set my face homeward for the block house and my companions. I remembered that the most easterly of the
    rivers which drain into Captain Kidd’s anchorage ran from the two-peaked hill upon my left,
    and I bent my course in that direction that I might pass the stream while it was small. The wood was pretty open, and keeping along
    the lower spurs, I had soon turned the corner of that hill, and not long after waded to
    the mid-calf across the watercourse. This brought me near to where I had encountered
    Ben Gunn, the maroon; and I walked more circumspectly, keeping an eye on every side. The dusk had come nigh hand completely, and
    as I opened out the cleft between the two peaks, I became aware of a wavering glow against
    the sky, where, as I judged, the man of the island was cooking his supper before a roaring
    fire. And yet I wondered, in my heart, that he should
    show himself so careless. For if I could see this radiance, might it
    not reach the eyes of Silver himself where he camped upon the shore among the marshes? Gradually the night fell blacker; it was all
    I could do to guide myself even roughly towards my destination; the double hill behind me
    and the Spy-glass on my right hand loomed faint and fainter; the stars were few and
    pale; and in the low ground where I wandered I kept tripping among bushes and rolling into
    sandy pits. Suddenly a kind of brightness fell about me. I looked up; a pale glimmer of moonbeams had
    alighted on the summit of the Spy-glass, and soon after I saw something broad and silvery
    moving low down behind the trees, and knew the moon had risen. With this to help me, I passed rapidly over
    what remained to me of my journey, and sometimes walking, sometimes running, impatiently drew
    near to the stockade. Yet, as I began to thread the grove that lies
    before it, I was not so thoughtless but that I slacked my pace and went a trifle warily. It would have been a poor end of my adventures
    to get shot down by my own party in mistake. The moon was climbing higher and higher, its
    light began to fall here and there in masses through the more open districts of the wood,
    and right in front of me a glow of a different colour appeared among the trees. It was red and hot, and now and again it was
    a little darkened—as it were, the embers of a bonfire smouldering. For the life of me I could not think what
    it might be. At last I came right down upon the borders
    of the clearing. The western end was already steeped in moonshine;
    the rest, and the block house itself, still lay in a black shadow chequered with long
    silvery streaks of light. On the other side of the house an immense
    fire had burned itself into clear embers and shed a steady, red reverberation, contrasted
    strongly with the mellow paleness of the moon. There was not a soul stirring nor a sound
    beside the noises of the breeze. I stopped, with much wonder in my heart, and
    perhaps a little terror also. It had not been our way to build great fires;
    we were, indeed, by the captain’s orders, somewhat niggardly of firewood, and I began
    to fear that something had gone wrong while I was absent. I stole round by the eastern end, keeping
    close in shadow, and at a convenient place, where the darkness was thickest, crossed the
    palisade. To make assurance surer, I got upon my hands
    and knees and crawled, without a sound, towards the corner of the house. As I drew nearer, my heart was suddenly and
    greatly lightened. It is not a pleasant noise in itself, and
    I have often complained of it at other times, but just then it was like music to hear my
    friends snoring together so loud and peaceful in their sleep. The sea-cry of the watch, that beautiful “All’s
    well,” never fell more reassuringly on my ear. In the meantime, there was no doubt of one
    thing; they kept an infamous bad watch. If it had been Silver and his lads that were
    now creeping in on them, not a soul would have seen daybreak. That was what it was, thought I, to have the
    captain wounded; and again I blamed myself sharply for leaving them in that danger with
    so few to mount guard. By this time I had got to the door and stood
    up. All was dark within, so that I could distinguish
    nothing by the eye. As for sounds, there was the steady drone
    of the snorers and a small occasional noise, a flickering or pecking that I could in no
    way account for. With my arms before me I walked steadily in. I should lie down in my own place (I thought
    with a silent chuckle) and enjoy their faces when they found me in the morning. My foot struck something yielding—it was
    a sleeper’s leg; and he turned and groaned, but without awaking. And then, all of a sudden, a shrill voice
    broke forth out of the darkness: “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!” and so forth, without pause
    or change, like the clacking of a tiny mill. Silver’s green parrot, Captain Flint! It was she whom I had heard pecking at a piece
    of bark; it was she, keeping better watch than any human being, who thus announced my
    arrival with her wearisome refrain. I had no time left me to recover. At the sharp, clipping tone of the parrot,
    the sleepers awoke and sprang up; and with a mighty oath, the voice of Silver cried,
    “Who goes?” I turned to run, struck violently against
    one person, recoiled, and ran full into the arms of a second, who for his part closed
    upon and held me tight. “Bring a torch, Dick,” said Silver when my
    capture was thus assured. And one of the men left the log-house and
    presently returned with a lighted brand. PART SIX — Captain Silver Chapter 28 – In the Enemy’s Camp THE red glare of the torch, lighting up the
    interior of the block house, showed me the worst of my apprehensions realized. The pirates were in possession of the house
    and stores: there was the cask of cognac, there were the pork and bread, as before,
    and what tenfold increased my horror, not a sign of any prisoner. I could only judge that all had perished,
    and my heart smote me sorely that I had not been there to perish with them. There were six of the buccaneers, all told;
    not another man was left alive. Five of them were on their feet, flushed and
    swollen, suddenly called out of the first sleep of drunkenness. The sixth had only risen upon his elbow; he
    was deadly pale, and the blood-stained bandage round his head told that he had recently been
    wounded, and still more recently dressed. I remembered the man who had been shot and
    had run back among the woods in the great attack, and doubted not that this was he. The parrot sat, preening her plumage, on Long
    John’s shoulder. He himself, I thought, looked somewhat paler
    and more stern than I was used to. He still wore the fine broadcloth suit in
    which he had fulfilled his mission, but it was bitterly the worse for wear, daubed with
    clay and torn with the sharp briers of the wood. “So,” said he, “here’s Jim Hawkins, shiver
    my timbers! Dropped in, like, eh? Well, come, I take that friendly.” And thereupon he sat down across the brandy
    cask and began to fill a pipe. “Give me a loan of the link, Dick,” said he;
    and then, when he had a good light, “That’ll do, lad,” he added; “stick the glim in the
    wood heap; and you, gentlemen, bring yourselves to! You needn’t stand up for Mr. Hawkins; he’ll
    excuse you, you may lay to that. And so, Jim”—stopping the tobacco—”here
    you were, and quite a pleasant surprise for poor old John. I see you were smart when first I set my eyes
    on you, but this here gets away from me clean, it do.” To all this, as may be well supposed, I made
    no answer. They had set me with my back against the wall,
    and I stood there, looking Silver in the face, pluckily enough, I hope, to all outward appearance,
    but with black despair in my heart. Silver took a whiff or two of his pipe with
    great composure and then ran on again. “Now, you see, Jim, so be as you are here,”
    says he, “I’ll give you a piece of my mind. I’ve always liked you, I have, for a lad of
    spirit, and the picter of my own self when I was young and handsome. I always wanted you to jine and take your
    share, and die a gentleman, and now, my cock, you’ve got to. Cap’n Smollett’s a fine seaman, as I’ll own
    up to any day, but stiff on discipline. ‘Dooty is dooty,’ says he, and right he is. Just you keep clear of the cap’n. The doctor himself is gone dead again you—’ungrateful
    scamp’ was what he said; and the short and the long of the whole story is about here:
    you can’t go back to your own lot, for they won’t have you; and without you start a third
    ship’s company all by yourself, which might be lonely, you’ll have to jine with Cap’n
    Silver.” So far so good. My friends, then, were still alive, and though
    I partly believed the truth of Silver’s statement, that the cabin party were incensed at me for
    my desertion, I was more relieved than distressed by what I heard. “I don’t say nothing as to your being in our
    hands,” continued Silver, “though there you are, and you may lay to it. I’m all for argyment; I never seen good come
    out o’ threatening. If you like the service, well, you’ll jine;
    and if you don’t, Jim, why, you’re free to answer no—free and welcome, shipmate; and
    if fairer can be said by mortal seaman, shiver my sides!” “Am I to answer, then?” I asked with a very tremulous voice. Through all this sneering talk, I was made
    to feel the threat of death that overhung me, and my cheeks burned and my heart beat
    painfully in my breast. “Lad,” said Silver, “no one’s a-pressing of
    you. Take your bearings. None of us won’t hurry you, mate; time goes
    so pleasant in your company, you see.” “Well,” says I, growing a bit bolder, “if
    I’m to choose, I declare I have a right to know what’s what, and why you’re here, and
    where my friends are.” “Wot’s wot?” repeated one of the buccaneers in a deep growl. “Ah, he’d be a lucky one as knowed that!” “You’ll perhaps batten down your hatches till
    you’re spoke to, my friend,” cried Silver truculently to this speaker. And then, in his first gracious tones, he
    replied to me, “Yesterday morning, Mr. Hawkins,” said he, “in the dog-watch, down came Doctor
    Livesey with a flag of truce. Says he, ‘Cap’n Silver, you’re sold out. Ship’s gone.’ Well, maybe we’d been taking a glass, and
    a song to help it round. I won’t say no. Leastways, none of us had looked out. We looked out, and by thunder, the old ship
    was gone! I never seen a pack o’ fools look fishier;
    and you may lay to that, if I tells you that looked the fishiest. ‘Well,’ says the doctor, ‘let’s bargain.’ We bargained, him and I, and here we are:
    stores, brandy, block house, the firewood you was thoughtful enough to cut, and in a
    manner of speaking, the whole blessed boat, from cross-trees to kelson. As for them, they’ve tramped; I don’t know
    where’s they are.” He drew again quietly at his pipe. “And lest you should take it into that head
    of yours,” he went on, “that you was included in the treaty, here’s the last word that was
    said: ‘How many are you,’ says I, ‘to leave?’ ‘Four,’ says he; ‘four, and one of us wounded. As for that boy, I don’t know where he is,
    confound him,’ says he, ‘nor I don’t much care. We’re about sick of him.’ These was his words. “Is that all?” I asked. “Well, it’s all that you’re to hear, my son,”
    returned Silver. “And now I am to choose?” “And now you are to choose, and you may lay
    to that,” said Silver. “Well,” said I, “I am not such a fool but
    I know pretty well what I have to look for. Let the worst come to the worst, it’s little
    I care. I’ve seen too many die since I fell in with
    you. But there’s a thing or two I have to tell
    you,” I said, and by this time I was quite excited; “and the first is this: here you
    are, in a bad way—ship lost, treasure lost, men lost, your whole business gone to wreck;
    and if you want to know who did it—it was I! I was in the apple barrel the night we sighted
    land, and I heard you, John, and you, Dick Johnson, and Hands, who is now at the bottom
    of the sea, and told every word you said before the hour was out. And as for the schooner, it was I who cut
    her cable, and it was I that killed the men you had aboard of her, and it was I who brought
    her where you’ll never see her more, not one of you. The laugh’s on my side; I’ve had the top of
    this business from the first; I no more fear you than I fear a fly. Kill me, if you please, or spare me. But one thing I’ll say, and no more; if you
    spare me, bygones are bygones, and when you fellows are in court for piracy, I’ll save
    you all I can. It is for you to choose. Kill another and do yourselves no good, or
    spare me and keep a witness to save you from the gallows.” I stopped, for, I tell you, I was out of breath,
    and to my wonder, not a man of them moved, but all sat staring at me like as many sheep. And while they were still staring, I broke
    out again, “And now, Mr. Silver,” I said, “I believe you’re the best man here, and if
    things go to the worst, I’ll take it kind of you to let the doctor know the way I took
    it.” “I’ll bear it in mind,” said Silver with an
    accent so curious that I could not, for the life of me, decide whether he were laughing
    at my request or had been favourably affected by my courage. “I’ll put one to that,” cried the old mahogany-faced
    seaman—Morgan by name—whom I had seen in Long John’s public-house upon the quays
    of Bristol. “It was him that knowed Black Dog.” “Well, and see here,” added the sea-cook. “I’ll put another again to that, by thunder! For it was this same boy that faked the chart
    from Billy Bones. First and last, we’ve split upon Jim Hawkins!” “Then here goes!” said Morgan with an oath. And he sprang up, drawing his knife as if
    he had been twenty. “Avast, there!” cried Silver. “Who are you, Tom Morgan? Maybe you thought you was cap’n here, perhaps. By the powers, but I’ll teach you better! Cross me, and you’ll go where many a good
    man’s gone before you, first and last, these thirty year back—some to the yard-arm, shiver
    my timbers, and some by the board, and all to feed the fishes. There’s never a man looked me between the
    eyes and seen a good day a’terwards, Tom Morgan, you may lay to that.” Morgan paused, but a hoarse murmur rose from
    the others. “Tom’s right,” said one. “I stood hazing long enough from one,” added
    another. “I’ll be hanged if I’ll be hazed by you, John
    Silver.” “Did any of you gentlemen want to have it
    out with me?” roared Silver, bending far forward from his
    position on the keg, with his pipe still glowing in his right hand. “Put a name on what you’re at; you ain’t dumb,
    I reckon. Him that wants shall get it. Have I lived this many years, and a son of
    a rum puncheon cock his hat athwart my hawse at the latter end of it? You know the way; you’re all gentlemen o’
    fortune, by your account. Well, I’m ready. Take a cutlass, him that dares, and I’ll see
    the colour of his inside, crutch and all, before that pipe’s empty.” Not a man stirred; not a man answered. “That’s your sort, is it?” he added, returning
    his pipe to his mouth. “Well, you’re a gay lot to look at, anyway. Not much worth to fight, you ain’t. P’r’aps you can understand King George’s English. I’m cap’n here by ‘lection. I’m cap’n here because I’m the best man by
    a long sea-mile. You won’t fight, as gentlemen o’ fortune should;
    then, by thunder, you’ll obey, and you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen a better
    boy than that. He’s more a man than any pair of rats of you
    in this here house, and what I say is this: let me see him that’ll lay a hand on him—that’s
    what I say, and you may lay to it.” There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up against the wall, my heart
    still going like a sledge-hammer, but with a ray of hope now shining in my bosom. Silver leant back against the wall, his arms
    crossed, his pipe in the corner of his mouth, as calm as though he had been in church; yet
    his eye kept wandering furtively, and he kept the tail of it on his unruly followers. They, on their part, drew gradually together
    towards the far end of the block house, and the low hiss of their whispering sounded in
    my ear continuously, like a stream. One after another, they would look up, and
    the red light of the torch would fall for a second on their nervous faces; but it was
    not towards me, it was towards Silver that they turned their eyes. “You seem to have a lot to say,” remarked
    Silver, spitting far into the air. “Pipe up and let me hear it, or lay to.” “Ax your pardon, sir,” returned one of the
    men; “you’re pretty free with some of the rules; maybe you’ll kindly keep an eye upon
    the rest. This crew’s dissatisfied; this crew don’t
    vally bullying a marlin-spike; this crew has its rights like other crews, I’ll make so
    free as that; and by your own rules, I take it we can talk together. I ax your pardon, sir, acknowledging you for
    to be captaing at this present; but I claim my right, and steps outside for a council.” And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow,
    a long, ill-looking, yellow-eyed man of five and thirty, stepped coolly towards the door
    and disappeared out of the house. One after another the rest followed his example,
    each making a salute as he passed, each adding some apology. “According to rules,” said one. “Forecastle council,” said Morgan. And so with one remark or another all marched
    out and left Silver and me alone with the torch. The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe. “Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins,” he said
    in a steady whisper that was no more than audible, “you’re within half a plank of death,
    and what’s a long sight worse, of torture. They’re going to throw me off. But, you mark, I stand by you through thick
    and thin. I didn’t mean to; no, not till you spoke up. I was about desperate to lose that much blunt,
    and be hanged into the bargain. But I see you was the right sort. I says to myself, you stand by Hawkins, John,
    and Hawkins’ll stand by you. You’re his last card, and by the living thunder,
    John, he’s yours! Back to back, says I. You save your witness, and he’ll save your
    neck!” I began dimly to understand. “You mean all’s lost?” I asked. “Aye, by gum, I do!” he answered. “Ship gone, neck gone—that’s the size of
    it. Once I looked into that bay, Jim Hawkins,
    and seen no schooner—well, I’m tough, but I gave out. As for that lot and their council, mark me,
    they’re outright fools and cowards. I’ll save your life—if so be as I can—from
    them. But, see here, Jim—tit for tat—you save
    Long John from swinging.” I was bewildered; it seemed a thing so hopeless
    he was asking—he, the old buccaneer, the ringleader throughout. “What I can do, that I’ll do,” I said. “It’s a bargain!” cried Long John. “You speak up plucky, and by thunder, I’ve
    a chance!” He hobbled to the torch, where it stood propped
    among the firewood, and took a fresh light to his pipe. “Understand me, Jim,” he said, returning. “I’ve a head on my shoulders, I have. I’m on squire’s side now. I know you’ve got that ship safe somewheres. How you done it, I don’t know, but safe it
    is. I guess Hands and O’Brien turned soft. I never much believed in neither of them. Now you mark me. I ask no questions, nor I won’t let others. I know when a game’s up, I do; and I know
    a lad that’s staunch. Ah, you that’s young—you and me might have
    done a power of good together!” He drew some cognac from the cask into a tin
    cannikin. “Will you taste, messmate?” he asked; and
    when I had refused: “Well, I’ll take a drain myself, Jim,” said he. “I need a caulker, for there’s trouble on
    hand. And talking o’ trouble, why did that doctor
    give me the chart, Jim?” My face expressed a wonder so unaffected that
    he saw the needlessness of further questions. “Ah, well, he did, though,” said he. “And there’s something under that, no doubt—something,
    surely, under that, Jim—bad or good.” And he took another swallow of the brandy,
    shaking his great fair head like a man who looks forward to the worst. Chapter 29 – The Black Spot Again THE council of buccaneers had lasted some
    time, when one of them re-entered the house, and with a repetition of the same salute,
    which had in my eyes an ironical air, begged for a moment’s loan of the torch. Silver briefly
    agreed, and this emissary retired again, leaving us together in the dark. “There’s a breeze coming, Jim,” said Silver,
    who had by this time adopted quite a friendly and familiar tone. I turned to the loophole nearest me and looked
    out. The embers of the great fire had so far burned themselves out and now glowed so low
    and duskily that I understood why these conspirators desired a torch. About half-way down the slope
    to the stockade, they were collected in a group; one held the light, another was on
    his knees in their midst, and I saw the blade of an open knife shine in his hand with varying
    colours in the moon and torchlight. The rest were all somewhat stooping, as though watching
    the manoeuvres of this last. I could just make out that he had a book as well as a knife
    in his hand, and was still wondering how anything so incongruous had come in their possession
    when the kneeling figure rose once more to his feet and the whole party began to move
    together towards the house. “Here they come,” said I; and I returned to
    my former position, for it seemed beneath my dignity that they should find me watching
    them. “Well, let ’em come, lad—let ’em come,”
    said Silver cheerily. “I’ve still a shot in my locker.” The door opened, and the five men, standing
    huddled together just inside, pushed one of their number forward. In any other circumstances
    it would have been comical to see his slow advance, hesitating as he set down each foot,
    but holding his closed right hand in front of him. “Step up, lad,” cried Silver. “I won’t eat
    you. Hand it over, lubber. I know the rules, I do; I won’t hurt a depytation.” Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped forth
    more briskly, and having passed something to Silver, from hand to hand, slipped yet
    more smartly back again to his companions. The sea-cook looked at what had been given
    him. “The black spot! I thought so,” he observed.
    “Where might you have got the paper? Why, hillo! Look here, now; this ain’t lucky! You’ve
    gone and cut this out of a Bible. What fool’s cut a Bible?” “Ah, there!” said Morgan. “There! Wot did
    I say? No good’ll come o’ that, I said.” “Well, you’ve about fixed it now, among you,”
    continued Silver. “You’ll all swing now, I reckon. What soft-headed lubber had a Bible?” “It was Dick,” said one. “Dick, was it? Then Dick can get to prayers,”
    said Silver. “He’s seen his slice of luck, has Dick, and you may lay to that.” But here the long man with the yellow eyes
    struck in. “Belay that talk, John Silver,” he said. “This
    crew has tipped you the black spot in full council, as in dooty bound; just you turn
    it over, as in dooty bound, and see what’s wrote there. Then you can talk.” “Thanky, George,” replied the sea-cook. “You
    always was brisk for business, and has the rules by heart, George, as I’m pleased to
    see. Well, what is it, anyway? Ah! ‘Deposed’—that’s it, is it? Very pretty wrote, to be sure;
    like print, I swear. Your hand o’ write, George? Why, you was gettin’ quite a leadin’ man in
    this here crew. You’ll be cap’n next, I shouldn’t wonder. Just oblige me with that torch again,
    will you? This pipe don’t draw.” “Come, now,” said George, “you don’t fool
    this crew no more. You’re a funny man, by your account; but you’re over now, and you’ll
    maybe step down off that barrel and help vote.” “I thought you said you knowed the rules,”
    returned Silver contemptuously. “Leastways, if you don’t, I do; and I wait here—and
    I’m still your cap’n, mind—till you outs with your grievances and I reply; in the meantime,
    your black spot ain’t worth a biscuit. After that, we’ll see.” “Oh,” replied George, “you don’t be under
    no kind of apprehension; we’re all square, we are. First, you’ve made a hash of this
    cruise—you’ll be a bold man to say no to that. Second, you let the enemy out o’ this
    here trap for nothing. Why did they want out? I dunno, but it’s pretty plain they wanted
    it. Third, you wouldn’t let us go at them upon the march. Oh, we see through you, John
    Silver; you want to play booty, that’s what’s wrong with you. And then, fourth, there’s
    this here boy.” “Is that all?” asked Silver quietly. “Enough, too,” retorted George. “We’ll all
    swing and sun-dry for your bungling.” “Well now, look here, I’ll answer these four
    p’ints; one after another I’ll answer ’em. I made a hash o’ this cruise, did I? Well
    now, you all know what I wanted, and you all know if that had been done that we’d ‘a been
    aboard the Hispaniola this night as ever was, every man of us alive, and fit, and full of
    good plum-duff, and the treasure in the hold of her, by thunder! Well, who crossed me?
    Who forced my hand, as was the lawful cap’n? Who tipped me the black spot the day we landed
    and began this dance? Ah, it’s a fine dance—I’m with you there—and looks mighty like a hornpipe
    in a rope’s end at Execution Dock by London town, it does. But who done it? Why, it was
    Anderson, and Hands, and you, George Merry! And you’re the last above board of that same
    meddling crew; and you have the Davy Jones’s insolence to up and stand for cap’n over me—you,
    that sank the lot of us! By the powers! But this tops the stiffest yarn to nothing.” Silver paused, and I could see by the faces
    of George and his late comrades that these words had not been said in vain. “That’s for number one,” cried the accused,
    wiping the sweat from his brow, for he had been talking with a vehemence that shook the
    house. “Why, I give you my word, I’m sick to speak to you. You’ve neither sense nor
    memory, and I leave it to fancy where your mothers was that let you come to sea. Sea!
    Gentlemen o’ fortune! I reckon tailors is your trade.” “Go on, John,” said Morgan. “Speak up to the
    others.” “Ah, the others!” returned John. “They’re
    a nice lot, ain’t they? You say this cruise is bungled. Ah! By gum, if you could understand
    how bad it’s bungled, you would see! We’re that near the gibbet that my neck’s stiff
    with thinking on it. You’ve seen ’em, maybe, hanged in chains, birds about ’em, seamen
    p’inting ’em out as they go down with the tide. ‘Who’s that?’ says one. ‘That! Why,
    that’s John Silver. I knowed him well,’ says another. And you can hear the chains a-jangle
    as you go about and reach for the other buoy. Now, that’s about where we are, every mother’s
    son of us, thanks to him, and Hands, and Anderson, and other ruination fools of you. And if you
    want to know about number four, and that boy, why, shiver my timbers, isn’t he a hostage?
    Are we a-going to waste a hostage? No, not us; he might be our last chance, and I shouldn’t
    wonder. Kill that boy? Not me, mates! And number three? Ah, well, there’s a deal to
    say to number three. Maybe you don’t count it nothing to have a real college doctor to
    see you every day—you, John, with your head broke—or you, George Merry, that had the
    ague shakes upon you not six hours agone, and has your eyes the colour of lemon peel
    to this same moment on the clock? And maybe, perhaps, you didn’t know there was a consort
    coming either? But there is, and not so long till then; and we’ll see who’ll be glad to
    have a hostage when it comes to that. And as for number two, and why I made a bargain—well,
    you came crawling on your knees to me to make it—on your knees you came, you was that
    downhearted—and you’d have starved too if I hadn’t—but that’s a trifle! You look there—that’s
    why!” And he cast down upon the floor a paper that
    I instantly recognized—none other than the chart on yellow paper, with the three red
    crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the captain’s chest. Why
    the doctor had given it to him was more than I could fancy. But if it were inexplicable to me, the appearance
    of the chart was incredible to the surviving mutineers. They leaped upon it like cats upon
    a mouse. It went from hand to hand, one tearing it from another; and by the oaths and the
    cries and the childish laughter with which they accompanied their examination, you would
    have thought, not only they were fingering the very gold, but were at sea with it, besides,
    in safety. “Yes,” said one, “that’s Flint, sure enough.
    J. F., and a score below, with a clove hitch to it; so he done ever.” “Mighty pretty,” said George. “But how are
    we to get away with it, and us no ship.” Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting
    himself with a hand against the wall: “Now I give you warning, George,” he cried. “One
    more word of your sauce, and I’ll call you down and fight you. How? Why, how do I know?
    You had ought to tell me that—you and the rest, that lost me my schooner, with your
    interference, burn you! But not you, you can’t; you hain’t got the invention of a cockroach.
    But civil you can speak, and shall, George Merry, you may lay to that.” “That’s fair enow,” said the old man Morgan. “Fair! I reckon so,” said the sea-cook. “You
    lost the ship; I found the treasure. Who’s the better man at that? And now I resign,
    by thunder! Elect whom you please to be your cap’n now; I’m done with it.” “Silver!” they cried. “Barbecue forever! Barbecue
    for cap’n!” “So that’s the toon, is it?” cried the cook.
    “George, I reckon you’ll have to wait another turn, friend; and lucky for you as I’m not
    a revengeful man. But that was never my way. And now, shipmates, this black spot? ‘Tain’t
    much good now, is it? Dick’s crossed his luck and spoiled his Bible, and that’s about all.” “It’ll do to kiss the book on still, won’t
    it?” growled Dick, who was evidently uneasy at the curse he had brought upon himself. “A Bible with a bit cut out!” returned Silver
    derisively. “Not it. It don’t bind no more’n a ballad-book.” “Don’t it, though?” cried Dick with a sort
    of joy. “Well, I reckon that’s worth having too.” “Here, Jim—here’s a cur’osity for you,”
    said Silver, and he tossed me the paper. It was around about the size of a crown piece.
    One side was blank, for it had been the last leaf; the other contained a verse or two of
    Revelation—these words among the rest, which struck sharply home upon my mind: “Without
    are dogs and murderers.” The printed side had been blackened with wood ash, which already
    began to come off and soil my fingers; on the blank side had been written with the same
    material the one word “Depposed.” I have that curiosity beside me at this moment, but not
    a trace of writing now remains beyond a single scratch, such as a man might make with his
    thumb-nail. That was the end of the night’s business.
    Soon after, with a drink all round, we lay down to sleep, and the outside of Silver’s
    vengeance was to put George Merry up for sentinel and threaten him with death if he should prove
    unfaithful. It was long ere I could close an eye, and
    heaven knows I had matter enough for thought in the man whom I had slain that afternoon,
    in my own most perilous position, and above all, in the remarkable game that I saw Silver
    now engaged upon—keeping the mutineers together with one hand and grasping with the other
    after every means, possible and impossible, to make his peace and save his miserable life.
    He himself slept peacefully and snored aloud, yet my heart was sore for him, wicked as he
    was, to think on the dark perils that environed and the shameful gibbet that awaited him. Chapter 30 – On Parole I WAS wakened—indeed, we were all wakened,
    for I could see even the sentinel shake himself together from where he had fallen against
    the door-post—by a clear, hearty voice hailing us from the margin of the wood: “Block house, ahoy!” it cried. “Here’s the
    doctor.” And the doctor it was. Although I was glad
    to hear the sound, yet my gladness was not without admixture. I remembered with confusion
    my insubordinate and stealthy conduct, and when I saw where it had brought me—among
    what companions and surrounded by what dangers—I felt ashamed to look him in the face. He must have risen in the dark, for the day
    had hardly come; and when I ran to a loophole and looked out, I saw him standing, like Silver
    once before, up to the mid-leg in creeping vapour. “You, doctor! Top o’ the morning to you, sir!”
    cried Silver, broad awake and beaming with good nature in a moment. “Bright and early,
    to be sure; and it’s the early bird, as the saying goes, that gets the rations. George,
    shake up your timbers, son, and help Dr. Livesey over the ship’s side. All a-doin’ well, your
    patients was—all well and merry.” So he pattered on, standing on the hilltop
    with his crutch under his elbow and one hand upon the side of the log-house—quite the
    old John in voice, manner, and expression. “We’ve quite a surprise for you too, sir,”
    he continued. “We’ve a little stranger here—he! he! A noo boarder and lodger, sir, and looking
    fit and taut as a fiddle; slep’ like a supercargo, he did, right alongside of John—stem to
    stem we was, all night.” Dr. Livesey was by this time across the stockade
    and pretty near the cook, and I could hear the alteration in his voice as he said, “Not
    Jim?” “The very same Jim as ever was,” says Silver. The doctor stopped outright, although he did
    not speak, and it was some seconds before he seemed able to move on. “Well, well,” he said at last, “duty first
    and pleasure afterwards, as you might have said yourself, Silver. Let us overhaul these
    patients of yours.” A moment afterwards he had entered the block
    house and with one grim nod to me proceeded with his work among the sick. He seemed under
    no apprehension, though he must have known that his life, among these treacherous demons,
    depended on a hair; and he rattled on to his patients as if he were paying an ordinary
    professional visit in a quiet English family. His manner, I suppose, reacted on the men,
    for they behaved to him as if nothing had occurred, as if he were still ship’s doctor
    and they still faithful hands before the mast. “You’re doing well, my friend,” he said to
    the fellow with the bandaged head, “and if ever any person had a close shave, it was
    you; your head must be as hard as iron. Well, George, how goes it? You’re a pretty colour,
    certainly; why, your liver, man, is upside down. Did you take that medicine? Did he take
    that medicine, men?” “Aye, aye, sir, he took it, sure enough,”
    returned Morgan. “Because, you see, since I am mutineers’ doctor,
    or prison doctor as I prefer to call it,” says Doctor Livesey in his pleasantest way,
    “I make it a point of honour not to lose a man for King George (God bless him!) and the
    gallows.” The rogues looked at each other but swallowed
    the home-thrust in silence. “Dick don’t feel well, sir,” said one. “Don’t he?” replied the doctor. “Well, step
    up here, Dick, and let me see your tongue. No, I should be surprised if he did! The man’s
    tongue is fit to frighten the French. Another fever.” “Ah, there,” said Morgan, “that comed of sp’iling
    Bibles.” “That comes—as you call it—of being arrant
    asses,” retorted the doctor, “and not having sense enough to know honest air from poison,
    and the dry land from a vile, pestiferous slough. I think it most probable—though
    of course it’s only an opinion—that you’ll all have the deuce to pay before you get that
    malaria out of your systems. Camp in a bog, would you? Silver, I’m surprised at you. You’re
    less of a fool than many, take you all round; but you don’t appear to me to have the rudiments
    of a notion of the rules of health. “Well,” he added after he had dosed them round
    and they had taken his prescriptions, with really laughable humility, more like charity
    schoolchildren than blood-guilty mutineers and pirates—”well, that’s done for today.
    And now I should wish to have a talk with that boy, please.” And he nodded his head in my direction carelessly. George Merry was at the door, spitting and
    spluttering over some bad-tasted medicine; but at the first word of the doctor’s proposal
    he swung round with a deep flush and cried “No!” and swore. Silver struck the barrel with his open hand. “Si-lence!” he roared and looked about him
    positively like a lion. “Doctor,” he went on in his usual tones, “I was a-thinking of
    that, knowing as how you had a fancy for the boy. We’re all humbly grateful for your kindness,
    and as you see, puts faith in you and takes the drugs down like that much grog. And I
    take it I’ve found a way as’ll suit all. Hawkins, will you give me your word of honour as a
    young gentleman—for a young gentleman you are, although poor born—your word of honour
    not to slip your cable?” I readily gave the pledge required. “Then, doctor,” said Silver, “you just step
    outside o’ that stockade, and once you’re there I’ll bring the boy down on the inside,
    and I reckon you can yarn through the spars. Good day to you, sir, and all our dooties
    to the squire and Cap’n Smollett.” The explosion of disapproval, which nothing
    but Silver’s black looks had restrained, broke out immediately the doctor had left the house.
    Silver was roundly accused of playing double—of trying to make a separate peace for himself,
    of sacrificing the interests of his accomplices and victims, and, in one word, of the identical,
    exact thing that he was doing. It seemed to me so obvious, in this case, that I could
    not imagine how he was to turn their anger. But he was twice the man the rest were, and
    his last night’s victory had given him a huge preponderance on their minds. He called them
    all the fools and dolts you can imagine, said it was necessary I should talk to the doctor,
    fluttered the chart in their faces, asked them if they could afford to break the treaty
    the very day they were bound a-treasure-hunting. “No, by thunder!” he cried. “It’s us must
    break the treaty when the time comes; and till then I’ll gammon that doctor, if I have
    to ile his boots with brandy.” And then he bade them get the fire lit, and
    stalked out upon his crutch, with his hand on my shoulder, leaving them in a disarray,
    and silenced by his volubility rather than convinced. “Slow, lad, slow,” he said. “They might round
    upon us in a twinkle of an eye if we was seen to hurry.” Very deliberately, then, did we advance across
    the sand to where the doctor awaited us on the other side of the stockade, and as soon
    as we were within easy speaking distance Silver stopped. “You’ll make a note of this here also, doctor,”
    says he, “and the boy’ll tell you how I saved his life, and were deposed for it too, and
    you may lay to that. Doctor, when a man’s steering as near the wind as me—playing
    chuck-farthing with the last breath in his body, like—you wouldn’t think it too much,
    mayhap, to give him one good word? You’ll please bear in mind it’s not my life only
    now—it’s that boy’s into the bargain; and you’ll speak me fair, doctor, and give me
    a bit o’ hope to go on, for the sake of mercy.” Silver was a changed man once he was out there
    and had his back to his friends and the block house; his cheeks seemed to have fallen in,
    his voice trembled; never was a soul more dead in earnest. “Why, John, you’re not afraid?” asked Dr.
    Livesey. “Doctor, I’m no coward; no, not I—not so
    much!” and he snapped his fingers. “If I was I wouldn’t say it. But I’ll own up fairly,
    I’ve the shakes upon me for the gallows. You’re a good man and a true; I never seen a better
    man! And you’ll not forget what I done good, not any more than you’ll forget the bad, I
    know. And I step aside—see here—and leave you and Jim alone. And you’ll put that down
    for me too, for it’s a long stretch, is that!” So saying, he stepped back a little way, till
    he was out of earshot, and there sat down upon a tree-stump and began to whistle, spinning
    round now and again upon his seat so as to command a sight, sometimes of me and the doctor
    and sometimes of his unruly ruffians as they went to and fro in the sand between the fire—which
    they were busy rekindling—and the house, from which they brought forth pork and bread
    to make the breakfast. “So, Jim,” said the doctor sadly, “here you
    are. As you have brewed, so shall you drink, my boy. Heaven knows, I cannot find it in
    my heart to blame you, but this much I will say, be it kind or unkind: when Captain Smollett
    was well, you dared not have gone off; and when he was ill and couldn’t help it, by George,
    it was downright cowardly!” I will own that I here began to weep. “Doctor,”
    I said, “you might spare me. I have blamed myself enough; my life’s forfeit anyway, and
    I should have been dead by now if Silver hadn’t stood for me; and doctor, believe this, I
    can die—and I dare say I deserve it—but what I fear is torture. If they come to torture
    me—” “Jim,” the doctor interrupted, and his voice
    was quite changed, “Jim, I can’t have this. Whip over, and we’ll run for it.” “Doctor,” said I, “I passed my word.” “I know, I know,” he cried. “We can’t help
    that, Jim, now. I’ll take it on my shoulders, holus bolus, blame and shame, my boy; but
    stay here, I cannot let you. Jump! One jump, and you’re out, and we’ll run for it like
    antelopes.” “No,” I replied; “you know right well you
    wouldn’t do the thing yourself—neither you nor squire nor captain; and no more will I.
    Silver trusted me; I passed my word, and back I go. But, doctor, you did not let me finish.
    If they come to torture me, I might let slip a word of where the ship is, for I got the
    ship, part by luck and part by risking, and she lies in North Inlet, on the southern beach,
    and just below high water. At half tide she must be high and dry.” “The ship!” exclaimed the doctor. Rapidly I described to him my adventures,
    and he heard me out in silence. “There is a kind of fate in this,” he observed
    when I had done. “Every step, it’s you that saves our lives; and do you suppose by any
    chance that we are going to let you lose yours? That would be a poor return, my boy. You found
    out the plot; you found Ben Gunn—the best deed that ever you did, or will do, though
    you live to ninety. Oh, by Jupiter, and talking of Ben Gunn! Why, this is the mischief in
    person. Silver!” he cried. “Silver! I’ll give you a piece of advice,” he continued as the
    cook drew near again; “don’t you be in any great hurry after that treasure.” “Why, sir, I do my possible, which that ain’t,”
    said Silver. “I can only, asking your pardon, save my life and the boy’s by seeking for
    that treasure; and you may lay to that.” “Well, Silver,” replied the doctor, “if that
    is so, I’ll go one step further: look out for squalls when you find it.” “Sir,” said Silver, “as between man and man,
    that’s too much and too little. What you’re after, why you left the block house, why you
    given me that there chart, I don’t know, now, do I? And yet I done your bidding with my
    eyes shut and never a word of hope! But no, this here’s too much. If you won’t tell me
    what you mean plain out, just say so and I’ll leave the helm.” “No,” said the doctor musingly; “I’ve no right
    to say more; it’s not my secret, you see, Silver, or, I give you my word, I’d tell it
    you. But I’ll go as far with you as I dare go, and a step beyond, for I’ll have my wig
    sorted by the captain or I’m mistaken! And first, I’ll give you a bit of hope; Silver,
    if we both get alive out of this wolf-trap, I’ll do my best to save you, short of perjury.” Silver’s face was radiant. “You couldn’t say
    more, I’m sure, sir, not if you was my mother,” he cried. “Well, that’s my first concession,” added
    the doctor. “My second is a piece of advice: keep the boy close beside you, and when you
    need help, halloo. I’m off to seek it for you, and that itself will show you if I speak
    at random. Good-bye, Jim.” And Dr. Livesey shook hands with me through
    the stockade, nodded to Silver, and set off at a brisk pace into the wood. Chapter 31 – The Treasure-hunt—Flint’s Pointer JIM,” said Silver when we were alone, “if
    I saved your life, you saved mine; and I’ll not forget it. I seen the doctor waving you
    to run for it—with the tail of my eye, I did; and I seen you say no, as plain as hearing.
    Jim, that’s one to you. This is the first glint of hope I had since the attack failed,
    and I owe it you. And now, Jim, we’re to go in for this here treasure-hunting, with sealed
    orders too, and I don’t like it; and you and me must stick close, back to back like, and
    we’ll save our necks in spite o’ fate and fortune.” Just then a man hailed us from the fire that
    breakfast was ready, and we were soon seated here and there about the sand over biscuit
    and fried junk. They had lit a fire fit to roast an ox, and it was now grown so hot that
    they could only approach it from the windward, and even there not without precaution. In
    the same wasteful spirit, they had cooked, I suppose, three times more than we could
    eat; and one of them, with an empty laugh, threw what was left into the fire, which blazed
    and roared again over this unusual fuel. I never in my life saw men so careless of the
    morrow; hand to mouth is the only word that can describe their way of doing; and what
    with wasted food and sleeping sentries, though they were bold enough for a brush and be done
    with it, I could see their entire unfitness for anything like a prolonged campaign. Even Silver, eating away, with Captain Flint
    upon his shoulder, had not a word of blame for their recklessness. And this the more
    surprised me, for I thought he had never shown himself so cunning as he did then. “Aye, mates,” said he, “it’s lucky you have
    Barbecue to think for you with this here head. I got what I wanted, I did. Sure enough, they
    have the ship. Where they have it, I don’t know yet; but once we hit the treasure, we’ll
    have to jump about and find out. And then, mates, us that has the boats, I reckon, has
    the upper hand.” Thus he kept running on, with his mouth full
    of the hot bacon; thus he restored their hope and confidence, and, I more than suspect,
    repaired his own at the same time. “As for hostage,” he continued, “that’s his
    last talk, I guess, with them he loves so dear. I’ve got my piece o’ news, and thanky
    to him for that; but it’s over and done. I’ll take him in a line when we go treasure-hunting,
    for we’ll keep him like so much gold, in case of accidents, you mark, and in the meantime.
    Once we got the ship and treasure both and off to sea like jolly companions, why then
    we’ll talk Mr. Hawkins over, we will, and we’ll give him his share, to be sure, for
    all his kindness.” It was no wonder the men were in a good humour
    now. For my part, I was horribly cast down. Should the scheme he had now sketched prove
    feasible, Silver, already doubly a traitor, would not hesitate to adopt it. He had still
    a foot in either camp, and there was no doubt he would prefer wealth and freedom with the
    pirates to a bare escape from hanging, which was the best he had to hope on our side. Nay, and even if things so fell out that he
    was forced to keep his faith with Dr. Livesey, even then what danger lay before us! What
    a moment that would be when the suspicions of his followers turned to certainty and he
    and I should have to fight for dear life—he a cripple and I a boy—against five strong
    and active seamen! Add to this double apprehension the mystery
    that still hung over the behaviour of my friends, their unexplained desertion of the stockade,
    their inexplicable cession of the chart, or harder still to understand, the doctor’s last
    warning to Silver, “Look out for squalls when you find it,” and you will readily believe
    how little taste I found in my breakfast and with how uneasy a heart I set forth behind
    my captors on the quest for treasure. We made a curious figure, had anyone been
    there to see us—all in soiled sailor clothes and all but me armed to the teeth. Silver
    had two guns slung about him—one before and one behind—besides the great cutlass
    at his waist and a pistol in each pocket of his square-tailed coat. To complete his strange
    appearance, Captain Flint sat perched upon his shoulder and gabbling odds and ends of
    purposeless sea-talk. I had a line about my waist and followed obediently after the sea-cook,
    who held the loose end of the rope, now in his free hand, now between his powerful teeth.
    For all the world, I was led like a dancing bear. The other men were variously burthened, some
    carrying picks and shovels—for that had been the very first necessary they brought
    ashore from the Hispaniola—others laden with pork, bread, and brandy for the midday
    meal. All the stores, I observed, came from our stock, and I could see the truth of Silver’s
    words the night before. Had he not struck a bargain with the doctor, he and his mutineers,
    deserted by the ship, must have been driven to subsist on clear water and the proceeds
    of their hunting. Water would have been little to their taste; a sailor is not usually a
    good shot; and besides all that, when they were so short of eatables, it was not likely
    they would be very flush of powder. Well, thus equipped, we all set out—even
    the fellow with the broken head, who should certainly have kept in shadow—and straggled,
    one after another, to the beach, where the two gigs awaited us. Even these bore trace
    of the drunken folly of the pirates, one in a broken thwart, and both in their muddy and
    unbailed condition. Both were to be carried along with us for the sake of safety; and
    so, with our numbers divided between them, we set forth upon the bosom of the anchorage. As we pulled over, there was some discussion
    on the chart. The red cross was, of course, far too large to be a guide; and the terms
    of the note on the back, as you will hear, admitted of some ambiguity. They ran, the
    reader may remember, thus: Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point
    to the N. of N.N.E. Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. Ten feet. A tall tree was thus the principal mark. Now,
    right before us the anchorage was bounded by a plateau from two to three hundred feet
    high, adjoining on the north the sloping southern shoulder of the Spy-glass and rising again
    towards the south into the rough, cliffy eminence called the Mizzen-mast Hill. The top of the
    plateau was dotted thickly with pine-trees of varying height. Every here and there, one
    of a different species rose forty or fifty feet clear above its neighbours, and which
    of these was the particular “tall tree” of Captain Flint could only be decided on the
    spot, and by the readings of the compass. Yet, although that was the case, every man
    on board the boats had picked a favourite of his own ere we were half-way over, Long
    John alone shrugging his shoulders and bidding them wait till they were there. We pulled easily, by Silver’s directions,
    not to weary the hands prematurely, and after quite a long passage, landed at the mouth
    of the second river—that which runs down a woody cleft of the Spy-glass. Thence, bending
    to our left, we began to ascend the slope towards the plateau. At the first outset, heavy, miry ground and
    a matted, marish vegetation greatly delayed our progress; but by little and little the
    hill began to steepen and become stony under foot, and the wood to change its character
    and to grow in a more open order. It was, indeed, a most pleasant portion of the island
    that we were now approaching. A heavy-scented broom and many flowering shrubs had almost
    taken the place of grass. Thickets of green nutmeg-trees were dotted here and there with
    the red columns and the broad shadow of the pines; and the first mingled their spice with
    the aroma of the others. The air, besides, was fresh and stirring, and this, under the
    sheer sunbeams, was a wonderful refreshment to our senses. The party spread itself abroad, in a fan shape,
    shouting and leaping to and fro. About the centre, and a good way behind the rest, Silver
    and I followed—I tethered by my rope, he ploughing, with deep pants, among the sliding
    gravel. From time to time, indeed, I had to lend him a hand, or he must have missed his
    footing and fallen backward down the hill. We had thus proceeded for about half a mile
    and were approaching the brow of the plateau when the man upon the farthest left began
    to cry aloud, as if in terror. Shout after shout came from him, and the others began
    to run in his direction. “He can’t ‘a found the treasure,” said old
    Morgan, hurrying past us from the right, “for that’s clean a-top.” Indeed, as we found when we also reached the
    spot, it was something very different. At the foot of a pretty big pine and involved
    in a green creeper, which had even partly lifted some of the smaller bones, a human
    skeleton lay, with a few shreds of clothing, on the ground. I believe a chill struck for
    a moment to every heart. “He was a seaman,” said George Merry, who,
    bolder than the rest, had gone up close and was examining the rags of clothing. “Leastways,
    this is good sea-cloth.” “Aye, aye,” said Silver; “like enough; you
    wouldn’t look to find a bishop here, I reckon. But what sort of a way is that for bones to
    lie? ‘Tain’t in natur’.” Indeed, on a second glance, it seemed impossible
    to fancy that the body was in a natural position. But for some disarray (the work, perhaps,
    of the birds that had fed upon him or of the slow-growing creeper that had gradually enveloped
    his remains) the man lay perfectly straight—his feet pointing in one direction, his hands,
    raised above his head like a diver’s, pointing directly in the opposite. “I’ve taken a notion into my old numbskull,”
    observed Silver. “Here’s the compass; there’s the tip-top p’int o’ Skeleton Island, stickin’
    out like a tooth. Just take a bearing, will you, along the line of them bones.” It was done. The body pointed straight in
    the direction of the island, and the compass read duly E.S.E. and by E. “I thought so,” cried the cook; “this here
    is a p’inter. Right up there is our line for the Pole Star and the jolly dollars. But,
    by thunder! If it don’t make me cold inside to think of Flint. This is one of his jokes,
    and no mistake. Him and these six was alone here; he killed ’em, every man; and this one
    he hauled here and laid down by compass, shiver my timbers! They’re long bones, and the hair’s
    been yellow. Aye, that would be Allardyce. You mind Allardyce, Tom Morgan?” “Aye, aye,” returned Morgan; “I mind him;
    he owed me money, he did, and took my knife ashore with him.” “Speaking of knives,” said another, “why don’t
    we find his’n lying round? Flint warn’t the man to pick a seaman’s pocket; and the birds,
    I guess, would leave it be.” “By the powers, and that’s true!” cried Silver. “There ain’t a thing left here,” said Merry,
    still feeling round among the bones; “not a copper doit nor a baccy box. It don’t look
    nat’ral to me.” “No, by gum, it don’t,” agreed Silver; “not
    nat’ral, nor not nice, says you. Great guns! Messmates, but if Flint was living, this would
    be a hot spot for you and me. Six they were, and six are we; and bones is what they are
    now.” “I saw him dead with these here deadlights,”
    said Morgan. “Billy took me in. There he laid, with penny-pieces on his eyes.” “Dead—aye, sure enough he’s dead and gone
    below,” said the fellow with the bandage; “but if ever sperrit walked, it would be Flint’s.
    Dear heart, but he died bad, did Flint!” “Aye, that he did,” observed another; “now
    he raged, and now he hollered for the rum, and now he sang. ‘Fifteen Men’ were his only
    song, mates; and I tell you true, I never rightly liked to hear it since. It was main
    hot, and the windy was open, and I hear that old song comin’ out as clear as clear—and
    the death-haul on the man already.” “Come, come,” said Silver; “stow this talk.
    He’s dead, and he don’t walk, that I know; leastways, he won’t walk by day, and you may
    lay to that. Care killed a cat. Fetch ahead for the doubloons.” We started, certainly; but in spite of the
    hot sun and the staring daylight, the pirates no longer ran separate and shouting through
    the wood, but kept side by side and spoke with bated breath. The terror of the dead
    buccaneer had fallen on their spirits. Chapter 32 – The Treasure-hunt—The Voice
    Among the Trees PARTLY from the damping influence of this
    alarm, partly to rest Silver and the sick folk, the whole party sat down as soon as
    they had gained the brow of the ascent. The plateau being somewhat tilted towards
    the west, this spot on which we had paused commanded a wide prospect on either hand.
    Before us, over the tree-tops, we beheld the Cape of the Woods fringed with surf; behind,
    we not only looked down upon the anchorage and Skeleton Island, but saw—clear across
    the spit and the eastern lowlands—a great field of open sea upon the east. Sheer above
    us rose the Spyglass, here dotted with single pines, there black with precipices. There
    was no sound but that of the distant breakers, mounting from all round, and the chirp of
    countless insects in the brush. Not a man, not a sail, upon the sea; the very largeness
    of the view increased the sense of solitude. Silver, as he sat, took certain bearings with
    his compass. “There are three ‘tall trees'” said he, “about
    in the right line from Skeleton Island. ‘Spy-glass shoulder,’ I take it, means that lower p’int
    there. It’s child’s play to find the stuff now. I’ve half a mind to dine first.” “I don’t feel sharp,” growled Morgan. “Thinkin’
    o’ Flint—I think it were—as done me.” “Ah, well, my son, you praise your stars he’s
    dead,” said Silver. “He were an ugly devil,” cried a third pirate
    with a shudder; “that blue in the face too!” “That was how the rum took him,” added Merry.
    “Blue! Well, I reckon he was blue. That’s a true word.” Ever since they had found the skeleton and
    got upon this train of thought, they had spoken lower and lower, and they had almost got to
    whispering by now, so that the sound of their talk hardly interrupted the silence of the
    wood. All of a sudden, out of the middle of the trees in front of us, a thin, high, trembling
    voice struck up the well-known air and words: “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—
    Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” I never have seen men more dreadfully affected
    than the pirates. The colour went from their six faces like enchantment; some leaped to
    their feet, some clawed hold of others; Morgan grovelled on the ground. “It’s Flint, by ——!” cried Merry. The song had stopped as suddenly as it began—broken
    off, you would have said, in the middle of a note, as though someone had laid his hand
    upon the singer’s mouth. Coming through the clear, sunny atmosphere among the green tree-tops,
    I thought it had sounded airily and sweetly; and the effect on my companions was the stranger. “Come,” said Silver, struggling with his ashen
    lips to get the word out; “this won’t do. Stand by to go about. This is a rum start,
    and I can’t name the voice, but it’s someone skylarking—someone that’s flesh and blood,
    and you may lay to that.” His courage had come back as he spoke, and
    some of the colour to his face along with it. Already the others had begun to lend an
    ear to this encouragement and were coming a little to themselves, when the same voice
    broke out again—not this time singing, but in a faint distant hail that echoed yet fainter
    among the clefts of the Spy-glass. “Darby M’Graw,” it wailed—for that is the
    word that best describes the sound—”Darby M’Graw! Darby M’Graw!” again and again and
    again; and then rising a little higher, and with an oath that I leave out: “Fetch aft
    the rum, Darby!” The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground,
    their eyes starting from their heads. Long after the voice had died away they still stared
    in silence, dreadfully, before them. “That fixes it!” gasped one. “Let’s go.” “They was his last words,” moaned Morgan,
    “his last words above board.” Dick had his Bible out and was praying volubly.
    He had been well brought up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell among bad companions. Still Silver was unconquered. I could hear
    his teeth rattle in his head, but he had not yet surrendered. “Nobody in this here island ever heard of
    Darby,” he muttered; “not one but us that’s here.” And then, making a great effort: “Shipmates,”
    he cried, “I’m here to get that stuff, and I’ll not be beat by man or devil. I never
    was feared of Flint in his life, and, by the powers, I’ll face him dead. There’s seven
    hundred thousand pound not a quarter of a mile from here. When did ever a gentleman
    o’ fortune show his stern to that much dollars for a boozy old seaman with a blue mug—and
    him dead too?” But there was no sign of reawakening courage
    in his followers, rather, indeed, of growing terror at the irreverence of his words. “Belay there, John!” said Merry. “Don’t you
    cross a sperrit.” And the rest were all too terrified to reply.
    They would have run away severally had they dared; but fear kept them together, and kept
    them close by John, as if his daring helped them. He, on his part, had pretty well fought
    his weakness down. “Sperrit? Well, maybe,” he said. “But there’s
    one thing not clear to me. There was an echo. Now, no man ever seen a sperrit with a shadow;
    well then, what’s he doing with an echo to him, I should like to know? That ain’t in
    natur’, surely?” This argument seemed weak enough to me. But
    you can never tell what will affect the superstitious, and to my wonder, George Merry was greatly
    relieved. “Well, that’s so,” he said. “You’ve a head
    upon your shoulders, John, and no mistake. ‘Bout ship, mates! This here crew is on a
    wrong tack, I do believe. And come to think on it, it was like Flint’s voice, I grant
    you, but not just so clear-away like it, after all. It was liker somebody else’s voice now—it
    was liker—” “By the powers, Ben Gunn!” roared Silver. “Aye, and so it were,” cried Morgan, springing
    on his knees. “Ben Gunn it were!” “It don’t make much odds, do it, now?” asked
    Dick. “Ben Gunn’s not here in the body any more’n Flint.” But the older hands greeted this remark with
    scorn. “Why, nobody minds Ben Gunn,” cried Merry;
    “dead or alive, nobody minds him.” It was extraordinary how their spirits had
    returned and how the natural colour had revived in their faces. Soon they were chatting together,
    with intervals of listening; and not long after, hearing no further sound, they shouldered
    the tools and set forth again, Merry walking first with Silver’s compass to keep them on
    the right line with Skeleton Island. He had said the truth: dead or alive, nobody minded
    Ben Gunn. Dick alone still held his Bible, and looked
    around him as he went, with fearful glances; but he found no sympathy, and Silver even
    joked him on his precautions. “I told you,” said he—”I told you you had
    sp’iled your Bible. If it ain’t no good to swear by, what do you suppose a sperrit would
    give for it? Not that!” and he snapped his big fingers, halting a moment on his crutch. But Dick was not to be comforted; indeed,
    it was soon plain to me that the lad was falling sick; hastened by heat, exhaustion, and the
    shock of his alarm, the fever, predicted by Dr. Livesey, was evidently growing swiftly
    higher. It was fine open walking here, upon the summit;
    our way lay a little downhill, for, as I have said, the plateau tilted towards the west.
    The pines, great and small, grew wide apart; and even between the clumps of nutmeg and
    azalea, wide open spaces baked in the hot sunshine. Striking, as we did, pretty near
    north-west across the island, we drew, on the one hand, ever nearer under the shoulders
    of the Spy-glass, and on the other, looked ever wider over that western bay where I had
    once tossed and trembled in the coracle. The first of the tall trees was reached, and
    by the bearings proved the wrong one. So with the second. The third rose nearly two hundred
    feet into the air above a clump of underwood—a giant of a vegetable, with a red column as
    big as a cottage, and a wide shadow around in which a company could have manoeuvred.
    It was conspicuous far to sea both on the east and west and might have been entered
    as a sailing mark upon the chart. But it was not its size that now impressed
    my companions; it was the knowledge that seven hundred thousand pounds in gold lay somewhere
    buried below its spreading shadow. The thought of the money, as they drew nearer, swallowed
    up their previous terrors. Their eyes burned in their heads; their feet grew speedier and
    lighter; their whole soul was bound up in that fortune, that whole lifetime of extravagance
    and pleasure, that lay waiting there for each of them. Silver hobbled, grunting, on his crutch; his
    nostrils stood out and quivered; he cursed like a madman when the flies settled on his
    hot and shiny countenance; he plucked furiously at the line that held me to him and from time
    to time turned his eyes upon me with a deadly look. Certainly he took no pains to hide his
    thoughts, and certainly I read them like print. In the immediate nearness of the gold, all
    else had been forgotten: his promise and the doctor’s warning were both things of the past,
    and I could not doubt that he hoped to seize upon the treasure, find and board the Hispaniola
    under cover of night, cut every honest throat about that island, and sail away as he had
    at first intended, laden with crimes and riches. Shaken as I was with these alarms, it was
    hard for me to keep up with the rapid pace of the treasure-hunters. Now and again I stumbled,
    and it was then that Silver plucked so roughly at the rope and launched at me his murderous
    glances. Dick, who had dropped behind us and now brought up the rear, was babbling to himself
    both prayers and curses as his fever kept rising. This also added to my wretchedness,
    and to crown all, I was haunted by the thought of the tragedy that had once been acted on
    that plateau, when that ungodly buccaneer with the blue face—he who died at Savannah,
    singing and shouting for drink—had there, with his own hand, cut down his six accomplices.
    This grove that was now so peaceful must then have rung with cries, I thought; and even
    with the thought I could believe I heard it ringing still. We were now at the margin of the thicket. “Huzza, mates, all together!” shouted Merry;
    and the foremost broke into a run. And suddenly, not ten yards further, we beheld
    them stop. A low cry arose. Silver doubled his pace, digging away with the foot of his
    crutch like one possessed; and next moment he and I had come also to a dead halt. Before us was a great excavation, not very
    recent, for the sides had fallen in and grass had sprouted on the bottom. In this were the
    shaft of a pick broken in two and the boards of several packing-cases strewn around. On
    one of these boards I saw, branded with a hot iron, the name Walrus—the name of Flint’s
    ship. All was clear to probation. The cache had
    been found and rifled; the seven hundred thousand pounds were gone! Chapter 33 – The Fall of a Chieftain THERE never was such an overturn in this world.
    Each of these six men was as though he had been struck. But with Silver the blow passed
    almost instantly. Every thought of his soul had been set full-stretch, like a racer, on
    that money; well, he was brought up, in a single second, dead; and he kept his head,
    found his temper, and changed his plan before the others had had time to realize the disappointment. “Jim,” he whispered, “take that, and stand
    by for trouble.” And he passed me a double-barrelled pistol. At the same time, he began quietly moving
    northward, and in a few steps had put the hollow between us two and the other five.
    Then he looked at me and nodded, as much as to say, “Here is a narrow corner,” as, indeed,
    I thought it was. His looks were not quite friendly, and I was so revolted at these constant
    changes that I could not forbear whispering, “So you’ve changed sides again.” There was no time left for him to answer in.
    The buccaneers, with oaths and cries, began to leap, one after another, into the pit and
    to dig with their fingers, throwing the boards aside as they did so. Morgan found a piece
    of gold. He held it up with a perfect spout of oaths. It was a two-guinea piece, and it
    went from hand to hand among them for a quarter of a minute. “Two guineas!” roared Merry, shaking it at
    Silver. “That’s your seven hundred thousand pounds, is it? You’re the man for bargains,
    ain’t you? You’re him that never bungled nothing, you wooden-headed lubber!” “Dig away, boys,” said Silver with the coolest
    insolence; “you’ll find some pig-nuts and I shouldn’t wonder.” “Pig-nuts!” repeated Merry, in a scream. “Mates,
    do you hear that? I tell you now, that man there knew it all along. Look in the face
    of him and you’ll see it wrote there.” “Ah, Merry,” remarked Silver, “standing for
    cap’n again? You’re a pushing lad, to be sure.” But this time everyone was entirely in Merry’s
    favour. They began to scramble out of the excavation, darting furious glances behind
    them. One thing I observed, which looked well for us: they all got out upon the opposite
    side from Silver. Well, there we stood, two on one side, five
    on the other, the pit between us, and nobody screwed up high enough to offer the first
    blow. Silver never moved; he watched them, very upright on his crutch, and looked as
    cool as ever I saw him. He was brave, and no mistake. At last Merry seemed to think a speech might
    help matters. “Mates,” says he, “there’s two of them alone
    there; one’s the old cripple that brought us all here and blundered us down to this;
    the other’s that cub that I mean to have the heart of. Now, mates—” He was raising his arm and his voice, and
    plainly meant to lead a charge. But just then—crack! crack! crack!—three musket-shots flashed
    out of the thicket. Merry tumbled head foremost into the excavation; the man with the bandage
    spun round like a teetotum and fell all his length upon his side, where he lay dead, but
    still twitching; and the other three turned and ran for it with all their might. Before you could wink, Long John had fired
    two barrels of a pistol into the struggling Merry, and as the man rolled up his eyes at
    him in the last agony, “George,” said he, “I reckon I settled you.” At the same moment, the doctor, Gray, and
    Ben Gunn joined us, with smoking muskets, from among the nutmeg-trees. “Forward!” cried the doctor. “Double quick,
    my lads. We must head ’em off the boats.” And we set off at a great pace, sometimes
    plunging through the bushes to the chest. I tell you, but Silver was anxious to keep
    up with us. The work that man went through, leaping on his crutch till the muscles of
    his chest were fit to burst, was work no sound man ever equalled; and so thinks the doctor.
    As it was, he was already thirty yards behind us and on the verge of strangling when we
    reached the brow of the slope. “Doctor,” he hailed, “see there! No hurry!” Sure enough there was no hurry. In a more
    open part of the plateau, we could see the three survivors still running in the same
    direction as they had started, right for Mizzenmast Hill. We were already between them and the
    boats; and so we four sat down to breathe, while Long John, mopping his face, came slowly
    up with us. “Thank ye kindly, doctor,” says he. “You came
    in in about the nick, I guess, for me and Hawkins. And so it’s you, Ben Gunn!” he added.
    “Well, you’re a nice one, to be sure.” “I’m Ben Gunn, I am,” replied the maroon,
    wriggling like an eel in his embarrassment. “And,” he added, after a long pause, “how
    do, Mr. Silver? Pretty well, I thank ye, says you.” “Ben, Ben,” murmured Silver, “to think as
    you’ve done me!” The doctor sent back Gray for one of the pick-axes
    deserted, in their flight, by the mutineers, and then as we proceeded leisurely downhill
    to where the boats were lying, related in a few words what had taken place. It was a
    story that profoundly interested Silver; and Ben Gunn, the half-idiot maroon, was the hero
    from beginning to end. Ben, in his long, lonely wanderings about
    the island, had found the skeleton—it was he that had rifled it; he had found the treasure;
    he had dug it up (it was the haft of his pick-axe that lay broken in the excavation); he had
    carried it on his back, in many weary journeys, from the foot of the tall pine to a cave he
    had on the two-pointed hill at the north-east angle of the island, and there it had lain
    stored in safety since two months before the arrival of the Hispaniola. When the doctor had wormed this secret from
    him on the afternoon of the attack, and when next morning he saw the anchorage deserted,
    he had gone to Silver, given him the chart, which was now useless—given him the stores,
    for Ben Gunn’s cave was well supplied with goats’ meat salted by himself—given anything
    and everything to get a chance of moving in safety from the stockade to the two-pointed
    hill, there to be clear of malaria and keep a guard upon the money. “As for you, Jim,” he said, “it went against
    my heart, but I did what I thought best for those who had stood by their duty; and if
    you were not one of these, whose fault was it?” That morning, finding that I was to be involved
    in the horrid disappointment he had prepared for the mutineers, he had run all the way
    to the cave, and leaving the squire to guard the captain, had taken Gray and the maroon
    and started, making the diagonal across the island to be at hand beside the pine. Soon,
    however, he saw that our party had the start of him; and Ben Gunn, being fleet of foot,
    had been dispatched in front to do his best alone. Then it had occurred to him to work
    upon the superstitions of his former shipmates, and he was so far successful that Gray and
    the doctor had come up and were already ambushed before the arrival of the treasure-hunters. “Ah,” said Silver, “it were fortunate for
    me that I had Hawkins here. You would have let old John be cut to bits, and never given
    it a thought, doctor.” “Not a thought,” replied Dr. Livesey cheerily. And by this time we had reached the gigs.
    The doctor, with the pick-axe, demolished one of them, and then we all got aboard the
    other and set out to go round by sea for North Inlet. This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver,
    though he was almost killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the rest of us, and
    we were soon skimming swiftly over a smooth sea. Soon we passed out of the straits and
    doubled the south-east corner of the island, round which, four days ago, we had towed the
    Hispaniola. As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could
    see the black mouth of Ben Gunn’s cave and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket.
    It was the squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which the voice
    of Silver joined as heartily as any. Three miles farther, just inside the mouth
    of North Inlet, what should we meet but the Hispaniola, cruising by herself? The last
    flood had lifted her, and had there been much wind or a strong tide current, as in the southern
    anchorage, we should never have found her more, or found her stranded beyond help. As
    it was, there was little amiss beyond the wreck of the main-sail. Another anchor was
    got ready and dropped in a fathom and a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum
    Cove, the nearest point for Ben Gunn’s treasure-house; and then Gray, single-handed, returned with
    the gig to the Hispaniola, where he was to pass the night on guard. A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the
    entrance of the cave. At the top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial and kind, saying
    nothing of my escapade either in the way of blame or praise. At Silver’s polite salute
    he somewhat flushed. “John Silver,” he said, “you’re a prodigious
    villain and imposter—a monstrous imposter, sir. I am told I am not to prosecute you.
    Well, then, I will not. But the dead men, sir, hang about your neck like mill-stones.” “Thank you kindly, sir,” replied Long John,
    again saluting. “I dare you to thank me!” cried the squire.
    “It is a gross dereliction of my duty. Stand back.” And thereupon we all entered the cave. It
    was a large, airy place, with a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns.
    The floor was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain Smollett; and in a far corner, only
    duskily flickered over by the blaze, I beheld great heaps of coin and quadrilaterals built
    of bars of gold. That was Flint’s treasure that we had come so far to seek and that had
    cost already the lives of seventeen men from the Hispaniola. How many it had cost in the
    amassing, what blood and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep, what brave men
    walking the plank blindfold, what shot of cannon, what shame and lies and cruelty, perhaps
    no man alive could tell. Yet there were still three upon that island—Silver, and old Morgan,
    and Ben Gunn—who had each taken his share in these crimes, as each had hoped in vain
    to share in the reward. “Come in, Jim,” said the captain. “You’re
    a good boy in your line, Jim, but I don’t think you and me’ll go to sea again. You’re
    too much of the born favourite for me. Is that you, John Silver? What brings you here,
    man?” “Come back to my dooty, sir,” returned Silver. “Ah!” said the captain, and that was all he
    said. What a supper I had of it that night, with
    all my friends around me; and what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn’s salted goat and some
    delicacies and a bottle of old wine from the Hispaniola. Never, I am sure, were people
    gayer or happier. And there was Silver, sitting back almost out of the firelight, but eating
    heartily, prompt to spring forward when anything was wanted, even joining quietly in our laughter—the
    same bland, polite, obsequious seaman of the voyage out. Chapter 34 – And Last THE next morning we fell early to work, for
    the transportation of this great mass of gold near a mile by land to the beach, and thence
    three miles by boat to the Hispaniola, was a considerable task for so small a number
    of workmen. The three fellows still abroad upon the island did not greatly trouble us;
    a single sentry on the shoulder of the hill was sufficient to ensure us against any sudden
    onslaught, and we thought, besides, they had had more than enough of fighting. Therefore the work was pushed on briskly.
    Gray and Ben Gunn came and went with the boat, while the rest during their absences piled
    treasure on the beach. Two of the bars, slung in a rope’s end, made a good load for a grown
    man—one that he was glad to walk slowly with. For my part, as I was not much use at
    carrying, I was kept busy all day in the cave packing the minted money into bread-bags. It was a strange collection, like Billy Bones’s
    hoard for the diversity of coinage, but so much larger and so much more varied that I
    think I never had more pleasure than in sorting them. English, French, Spanish, Portuguese,
    Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas and moidores and sequins, the pictures
    of all the kings of Europe for the last hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with
    what looked like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces and square pieces,
    and pieces bored through the middle, as if to wear them round your neck—nearly every
    variety of money in the world must, I think, have found a place in that collection; and
    for number, I am sure they were like autumn leaves, so that my back ached with stooping
    and my fingers with sorting them out. Day after day this work went on; by every
    evening a fortune had been stowed aboard, but there was another fortune waiting for
    the morrow; and all this time we heard nothing of the three surviving mutineers. At last—I think it was on the third night—the
    doctor and I were strolling on the shoulder of the hill where it overlooks the lowlands
    of the isle, when, from out the thick darkness below, the wind brought us a noise between
    shrieking and singing. It was only a snatch that reached our ears, followed by the former
    silence. “Heaven forgive them,” said the doctor; “’tis
    the mutineers!” “All drunk, sir,” struck in the voice of Silver
    from behind us. Silver, I should say, was allowed his entire
    liberty, and in spite of daily rebuffs, seemed to regard himself once more as quite a privileged
    and friendly dependent. Indeed, it was remarkable how well he bore these slights and with what
    unwearying politeness he kept on trying to ingratiate himself with all. Yet, I think,
    none treated him better than a dog, unless it was Ben Gunn, who was still terribly afraid
    of his old quartermaster, or myself, who had really something to thank him for; although
    for that matter, I suppose, I had reason to think even worse of him than anybody else,
    for I had seen him meditating a fresh treachery upon the plateau. Accordingly, it was pretty
    gruffly that the doctor answered him. “Drunk or raving,” said he. “Right you were, sir,” replied Silver; “and
    precious little odds which, to you and me.” “I suppose you would hardly ask me to call
    you a humane man,” returned the doctor with a sneer, “and so my feelings may surprise
    you, Master Silver. But if I were sure they were raving—as I am morally certain one,
    at least, of them is down with fever—I should leave this camp, and at whatever risk to my
    own carcass, take them the assistance of my skill.” “Ask your pardon, sir, you would be very wrong,”
    quoth Silver. “You would lose your precious life, and you may lay to that. I’m on your
    side now, hand and glove; and I shouldn’t wish for to see the party weakened, let alone
    yourself, seeing as I know what I owes you. But these men down there, they couldn’t keep
    their word—no, not supposing they wished to; and what’s more, they couldn’t believe
    as you could.” “No,” said the doctor. “You’re the man to
    keep your word, we know that.” Well, that was about the last news we had
    of the three pirates. Only once we heard a gunshot a great way off and supposed them
    to be hunting. A council was held, and it was decided that we must desert them on the
    island—to the huge glee, I must say, of Ben Gunn, and with the strong approval of
    Gray. We left a good stock of powder and shot, the bulk of the salt goat, a few medicines,
    and some other necessaries, tools, clothing, a spare sail, a fathom or two of rope, and
    by the particular desire of the doctor, a handsome present of tobacco. That was about our last doing on the island.
    Before that, we had got the treasure stowed and had shipped enough water and the remainder
    of the goat meat in case of any distress; and at last, one fine morning, we weighed
    anchor, which was about all that we could manage, and stood out of North Inlet, the
    same colours flying that the captain had flown and fought under at the palisade. The three fellows must have been watching
    us closer than we thought for, as we soon had proved. For coming through the narrows,
    we had to lie very near the southern point, and there we saw all three of them kneeling
    together on a spit of sand, with their arms raised in supplication. It went to all our
    hearts, I think, to leave them in that wretched state; but we could not risk another mutiny;
    and to take them home for the gibbet would have been a cruel sort of kindness. The doctor
    hailed them and told them of the stores we had left, and where they were to find them.
    But they continued to call us by name and appeal to us, for God’s sake, to be merciful
    and not leave them to die in such a place. At last, seeing the ship still bore on her
    course and was now swiftly drawing out of earshot, one of them—I know not which it
    was—leapt to his feet with a hoarse cry, whipped his musket to his shoulder, and sent
    a shot whistling over Silver’s head and through the main-sail. After that, we kept under cover of the bulwarks,
    and when next I looked out they had disappeared from the spit, and the spit itself had almost
    melted out of sight in the growing distance. That was, at least, the end of that; and before
    noon, to my inexpressible joy, the highest rock of Treasure Island had sunk into the
    blue round of sea. We were so short of men that everyone on board
    had to bear a hand—only the captain lying on a mattress in the stern and giving his
    orders, for though greatly recovered he was still in want of quiet. We laid her head for
    the nearest port in Spanish America, for we could not risk the voyage home without fresh
    hands; and as it was, what with baffling winds and a couple of fresh gales, we were all worn
    out before we reached it. It was just at sundown when we cast anchor
    in a most beautiful land-locked gulf, and were immediately surrounded by shore boats
    full of Negroes and Mexican Indians and half-bloods selling fruits and vegetables and offering
    to dive for bits of money. The sight of so many good-humoured faces (especially the blacks),
    the taste of the tropical fruits, and above all the lights that began to shine in the
    town made a most charming contrast to our dark and bloody sojourn on the island; and
    the doctor and the squire, taking me along with them, went ashore to pass the early part
    of the night. Here they met the captain of an English man-of-war, fell in talk with him,
    went on board his ship, and, in short, had so agreeable a time that day was breaking
    when we came alongside the Hispaniola. Ben Gunn was on deck alone, and as soon as
    we came on board he began, with wonderful contortions, to make us a confession. Silver
    was gone. The maroon had connived at his escape in a shore boat some hours ago, and he now
    assured us he had only done so to preserve our lives, which would certainly have been
    forfeit if “that man with the one leg had stayed aboard.” But this was not all. The
    sea-cook had not gone empty-handed. He had cut through a bulkhead unobserved and had
    removed one of the sacks of coin, worth perhaps three or four hundred guineas, to help him
    on his further wanderings. I think we were all pleased to be so cheaply
    quit of him. Well, to make a long story short, we got a
    few hands on board, made a good cruise home, and the Hispaniola reached Bristol just as
    Mr. Blandly was beginning to think of fitting out her consort. Five men only of those who
    had sailed returned with her. “Drink and the devil had done for the rest,” with a vengeance,
    although, to be sure, we were not quite in so bad a case as that other ship they sang
    about: With one man of her crew alive,
    What put to sea with seventy-five. All of us had an ample share of the treasure
    and used it wisely or foolishly, according to our natures. Captain Smollett is now retired
    from the sea. Gray not only saved his money, but being suddenly smit with the desire to
    rise, also studied his profession, and he is now mate and part owner of a fine full-rigged
    ship, married besides, and the father of a family. As for Ben Gunn, he got a thousand
    pounds, which he spent or lost in three weeks, or to be more exact, in nineteen days, for
    he was back begging on the twentieth. Then he was given a lodge to keep, exactly as he
    had feared upon the island; and he still lives, a great favourite, though something of a butt,
    with the country boys, and a notable singer in church on Sundays and saints’ days. Of Silver we have heard no more. That formidable
    seafaring man with one leg has at last gone clean out of my life; but I dare say he met
    his old Negress, and perhaps still lives in comfort with her and Captain Flint. It is
    to be hoped so, I suppose, for his chances of comfort in another world are very small. The bar silver and the arms still lie, for
    all that I know, where Flint buried them; and certainly they shall lie there for me.
    Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back again to that accursed island; and the worst
    dreams that ever I have are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts or start upright
    in bed with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still ringing in my ears: “Pieces of eight!
    Pieces of eight!”

    Sailing around the world, more of Puerto Rico | Ep. 04 | Sailboat Furminger
    Articles, Blog

    Sailing around the world, more of Puerto Rico | Ep. 04 | Sailboat Furminger

    August 15, 2019

    In the last episode Our friends visit us aboard On the island of Culebra But wait a little bit! Let’s go back in time a little bit! just before our friends arrived We had just arrived in Boqueron, Puerto Rico show me where’s our house baby! best warm oysters ever! then we leave at night to discover the East Coast of Puerto Rico You wanna go discover the island? then our friends leave and we keep sailing towars the Vieques and the Virgin Islands

    REAL LIFE PRISON ESCAPE CHALLENGE!! Escaping The Hacker (24 Hour Challenge)
    Articles, Blog

    REAL LIFE PRISON ESCAPE CHALLENGE!! Escaping The Hacker (24 Hour Challenge)

    August 15, 2019

    that’s camera perfect gues guess I’m
    gonna pee didn’t hear me right now currently I’m locked up somewhere I I
    don’t know where we were knocked out and brought here look after we tried to
    escape on the 24-hour box port we heard a radio call we left and headed towards
    an abandoned tree house after making it halfway there there was a massive CEO
    chase which finally we’re able to escape from and led us to the treehouse itself
    after the night came though they came for us we’re getting more and more
    information from you guys we’re piecing it together the phone what’s once we
    caught the phone they followed us my memory is a bit blurry but the video the
    video of someone I Carter shares house look good looking you good – Logan wake
    up who can read some sort of prison what cheek this isn’t good
    they’ve captured us they brought us somewhere I have no idea where we are on
    the files ooh look at you remember anything do you remember what we were
    searching for there’s a phone on my head it’s so much the last thing I remember
    we were in the fort trying to solve this mystery and then I know I fell asleep
    looking this one of the creepers Hey what is this place hey don’t walk away
    from me what’s going on no I don’t know where we are
    wait the phone look look at the phone we had one of their phones the map looking
    where one of the prison’s of the map this is this is where they’re trying to
    lock up youtubers guys what do you think they want with us
    it’s more of them please go hey hey come back here
    what’s your name who are you she’s gonna talk to us they’re not even
    not even looking at us I hope we’ll be able to get out with all of them here I
    don’t even know if there’s a way out where’s fine you put your phone away
    guys if you see anything leave a comment down below we need all of your help the entire facility’s covered in barbed
    wire – get down yes look I do tell this isn’t a real prison
    so I swear soaring the youtubers he’s coming this way there’s bunch of abandoned vehicles here
    might be able to hear some supplies might’ve escaped maybe we can get one of
    them working I don’t know guys those cars look pretty done to me all right
    I’ve got a rudimentary knowledge of mechanics I think I might be able to get
    one working if we can but I gotta I can’t better look at them I think right
    now guys what we do is been play along okay we don’t want to raise any
    suspicions fantastic what’s coming this way for now we’re just gonna play along with
    our games so we have to start collecting everything that we find every item that
    we can use to escape I guess we definitely might be able to use this to
    escape in some way Mike you’ve been hidden in here though in case they check
    ourselves guys what do you think this place used to be able to use this pad if
    we can figure out a plan could you write it down on here all right guys I’m gonna
    draw a rough map of the prison Shh okay so this is a rough idea of what the
    prison looks like essentially we’re here what I’ve been able to figure out the
    prison is a c-shape with this knowledge we know that the cars are on the
    left-hand side of the prison and the courtyard here looks like it’s fairly
    low security finally we’ve got guards in both of these towers here we are located
    here we’ve seen one guard at the back of the prison one guard at the front of the
    prison so far we’ve counted four different
    people I think the first thing we can do is for garters scheme method we can
    always find a way to gather these cuffs we know it’s finding a way to distract
    the guards but guys we don’t have a proper way of transport there’s no way
    we’re getting more than over that hill I need to check those cars look I need to
    get a visual on them all right look we play around until we find a break once
    we find that I take you guys with me when we go check out those vehicles see
    if we can figure out if one of them can be worked maybe I can distract the
    guards yes but what what do you want what do
    you want what does he want because what does he want where are we going thank
    you yes what what do you wants to do what do you want our butts did you say it’s recreation time all
    right I’m just gonna play basketball now just uh enjoying the prison life of
    playing basketball looking up having fun are you having fun
    having a lot of fun G yeah that’s the ball
    all right three-pointer good job Logan did you just need to count to the cars
    that was me man yes right now so give me your honor for
    only shots all these guys are doing okay do something do you hear that guy has
    the keys you can hear them I’m gonna go distract it okay I really have a few minutes
    I don’t need this car speaker but I could see it’s a golf golf cart I might
    go get me started come on come on looks like it’s dead I’m
    I need a new battery adorable all I’ve got for too long I gotta get back
    I couldn’t find anything else in the other cars at least we know there’s one
    working a golf cart but it definitely needs a battery gonna hide the camera
    now gasp nice dude figured out a way we could get out of here
    it’s a golf cart but it’s missing its battery if you see anything that uses a
    battery let me know okay yeah what’s going on back yeah okay we’re going
    we’re going we’re going back in ourselves it’s gonna sit here not doing
    anything he’s got okay guys so what we figured
    out as of now is that our only way out of here’s a golf cart problem with a
    golf cart is it’s missing a battery guys if you have any ideas comment them down
    below I can smash that like button we need every leg on this video to help us
    escape I’m gonna put down some more information okay let’s check this out
    this is the map of escutcheon over the place as you know we have a base of
    idiots the map here that’s what the golf cart is all the gears where you have the
    extra guard this guard here has the key if we’re gonna get out of these
    handcuffs actually drive ourselves out of here
    more importantly than getting this golf cart just getting out of these cuffs not
    only that but when I haven’t I made a list of everyone that was there that
    night at Carter’s party at least the Lizzie sheriff Stephen chair Carter cher
    Marlon Chad wild clay and V now these were the only youtubers that there were
    multiple other people that were their family and friends but out of these
    people one of them could be whoever’s behind all this someone there is part of
    this and if it wasn’t one of the family or friends it was one of these youtubers
    right now we’ve got to figure out our escape plan yes you want to you wants to
    come just just me okay okay we sit what are you gonna do it’s going
    on what is this contraption what’s this for once for the camera
    look rebuilding is for what is going on tell me what are you don’t do what are
    you doing right but you’re stealing my pots
    let me take away from you I know what they have us here for a
    bokken slogan I think they’re trying to steal our thoughts you’re trying to
    steal hope it youtubers thought search the trying to suck them out of our
    brains and how use them I don’t know one for if you know why they might want our
    youtuber ideas let us know in the comments down below but Logan I know one
    thing if we don’t get out of here and get out of here soon skip began to Poppa
    Jake we’ve got to get out of here tonight