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1Out of the eight men who had fallen in the action, only three still breathed--that one of the pirates who had been shot
2at the loophole, Hunter, and Captain Smollett; and of these, the first two were as good as dead; the mutineer indeed
3died under the doctor's knife, and Hunter, do what we could, never recovered consciousness in this world. He lingered
4all day, breathing loudly like the old buccaneer at home in his apoplectic fit, but the bones of his chest had been
5crushed by the blow and his skull fractured in falling, and some time in the following night, without sign or sound, he
6went to his Maker. As for the captain, his wounds were grievous indeed, but not dangerous. No organ was fatally injured.
7Anderson's ball--for it was Job that shot him first--had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, not badly; the
8second had only torn and displaced some muscles in the calf. He was sure to recover, the doctor said, but in the
9meantime, 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
10accidental cut across the knuckles was a flea-bite. Doctor Livesey patched it up with plaster and pulled my ears for me
11into the bargain. After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the captain's side awhile in consultation; and when they
12had talked to their hearts' content, it being then a little past noon, the doctor took up his hat and pistols, girt on a
13cutlass, put the chart in his pocket, and with a musket over his shoulder crossed the palisade on the north side and set
14off briskly through the trees. Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the block house, to be out of earshot
15of our officers consulting; and Gray took his pipe out of his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back again, so
16thunder-struck he was at this occurrence. "Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Dr. Livesey mad?" "Why no,"
17says 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
18HE'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
19to see Ben Gunn." I was right, as appeared later; but in the meantime, the house being stifling hot and the little patch
20of sand inside the palisade ablaze with midday sun, I began to get another thought into my head, which was not by any
21means so right. What I began to do was to envy the doctor walking in the cool shadow of the woods with the birds about
22him and the pleasant smell of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to the hot resin, and so much blood
23about me and so many poor dead bodies lying all around that I took a disgust of the place that was almost as strong as
24fear. All the time I was washing out the block house, and then washing up the things from dinner, this disgust and envy
25kept growing stronger and stronger, till at last, being near a bread-bag, and no one then observing me, I took the first
26step towards my escapade and filled both pockets of my coat with biscuit. I was a fool, if you like, and certainly I was
27going to do a foolish, over-bold act; but I was determined to do it with all the precautions in my power. These
28biscuits, should anything befall me, would keep me, at least, from starving till far on in the next day. The next thing
29I laid hold of was a brace of pistols, and as I already had a powder-horn and bullets, I felt myself well supplied with
30arms. 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
31the anchorage on the east from the open sea, find the white rock I had observed last evening, and ascertain whether it
32was there or not that Ben Gunn had hidden his boat, a thing quite worth doing, as I still believe. But as I was certain
33I should not be allowed to leave the enclosure, my only plan was to take French leave and slip out when nobody was
34watching, 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
35mind up. Well, as things at last fell out, I found an admirable opportunity. The squire and Gray were busy helping the
36captain with his bandages, the coast was clear, I made a bolt for it over the stockade and into the thickest of the
37trees, and before my absence was observed I was out of cry of my companions. This was my second folly, far worse than
38the 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
39took 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
40all chance of observation from the anchorage. It was already late in the afternoon, although still warm and sunny. As I
41continued to thread the tall woods, I could hear from far before me not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a
42certain tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs which showed me the sea breeze had set in higher than usual. Soon cool
43draughts of air began to reach me, and a few steps farther I came forth into the open borders of the grove, and saw the
44sea lying blue and sunny to the horizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along the beach. I have never seen
45the sea quiet round Treasure Island. The sun might blaze overhead, the air be without a breath, the surface smooth and
46blue, but still these great rollers would be running along all the external coast, thundering and thundering by day and
47night; and I scarce believe there is one spot in the island where a man would be out of earshot of their noise. I walked
48along beside the surf with great enjoyment, till, thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I took the cover of
49some thick bushes and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit. Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage. The sea
50breeze, as though it had the sooner blown itself out by its unusual violence, was already at an end; it had been
51succeeded by light, variable airs from the south and south-east, carrying great banks of fog; and the anchorage, under
52lee of Skeleton Island, lay still and leaden as when first we entered it. The HISPANIOLA, in that unbroken mirror, was
53exactly portrayed from the truck to the waterline, the Jolly Roger hanging from her peak. Alongside lay one of the gigs,
54Silver in the stern-sheets--him I could always recognize--while a couple of men were leaning over the stern bulwarks,
55one of them with a red cap--the very rogue that I had seen some hours before stride-legs upon the palisade. Apparently
56they were talking and laughing, though at that distance--upwards of a mile--I could, of course, hear no word of what was
57said. All at once there began the most horrid, unearthly screaming, which at first startled me badly, though I had soon
58remembered the voice of Captain Flint and even thought I could make out the bird by her bright plumage as she sat
59perched upon her master's wrist. Soon after, the jolly-boat shoved off and pulled for shore, and the man with the red
60cap and his comrade went below by the cabin companion. Just about the same time, the sun had gone down behind the
61Spy-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
62to find the boat that evening. The white rock, visible enough above the brush, was still some eighth of a mile further
63down the spit, and it took me a goodish while to get up with it, crawling, often on all fours, among the scrub. Night
64had almost come when I laid my hand on its rough sides. Right below it there was an exceedingly small hollow of green
65turf, hidden by banks and a thick underwood about knee-deep, that grew there very plentifully; and in the centre of the
66dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat-skins, like what the gipsies carry about with them in England.
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