Read the chapter
Treasure Island
Chapter 13. How I Began My Shore Adventure
The island looked completely different when I came on deck the next morning.
Although the wind had now stopped completely, we had traveled a long way during the night.
We were now lying still about half a mile to the south-east of the low eastern coast.
Grey-colored woods covered a large part of the land.
This even color was broken up by streaks of yellow sand in the lower areas, and by many tall pine trees that rose above the others.
Some stood alone, some in groups, but the general coloring was uniform and sad.
The hills rose clearly above the trees in towers of bare rock.
All were strangely shaped, and the Spy-glass, three or four hundred feet taller than any other hill on the island, was the strangest.
It rose steeply from almost every side and then suddenly cut off at the top, like a base for a statue.
The HISPANIOLA was rolling so hard that water came over the sides.
The booms were tearing at the blocks, the rudder was banging back and forth, and the whole ship was creaking, groaning, and jumping like a factory.
I had to hold tight to the backstay, and the world turned dizzily before my eyes.
I was a good enough sailor when the ship was moving.
But when we stood still and were rolled about like a bottle, I always felt sick.
Especially in the morning, on an empty stomach.
Maybe it was this, the sight, the smell, or the heavy silent heat.
Maybe it was the look of the island, with its grey, sad woods and wild stone towers.
We could both see and hear the waves foaming and thundering on the steep beach.
The sun shone bright and hot, Shore birds were fishing and crying all around us.
You'd think anyone would be glad to get to land after being so long at sea.
But my heart sank into my boots.
From the first look onward, I hated the very thought of Treasure Island.
We had a dreary morning's work ahead of us.
There was no sign of any wind, so the boats had to be brought out and manned.
The ship had to be pulled three to four miles around corner of island and up narrow passage to harbor behind Skeleton Island.
I volunteered for one of the boats, where I had no business being.
The heat was terrible, and the men grumbled fiercely over their work.
Anderson was in charge of my boat, and instead of keeping the crew in order, he grumbled as loud as the worst of them.
"Well," he said with an oath, "it's not forever."
I thought this was a very bad sign.
Up to that day, the men had worked quickly and willingly.
But the very sight of the island had loosened the bonds of discipline.
All the way in, Long John stood by the steersman and guided the ship.
He knew the passage like the palm of his hand.
Though the man in the chains got more water everywhere than was shown on the chart, John never hesitated once.
"There's a strong current with the falling tide," he said, "and this passage has been dug out, in a way of speaking, with a spade."
We stopped right where the anchor was marked on the chart, about a third of a mile from each shore.
The mainland was 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 settled down again, and all was silent once more.
The place was completely surrounded by land, buried in woods.
The trees came right down to the high-water mark.
The shores were mostly flat, and the hilltops stood around at a distance in a sort of circle, one here, one there.
Two little rivers, or rather two swamps, emptied into this pond, as you might call it.
The plants around 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.
If it hadn't been for the chart on the companion, we might have been the first to anchor there since the island rose.
There wasn't a breath of air moving, nor a sound except the waves booming half a mile away along the beaches and against the rocks outside.
A strange, stale smell hung over the anchorage.
It was a smell of wet leaves and rotting tree trunks.
I saw the doctor sniffing and sniffing, like someone tasting a bad egg.
"I don't know about treasure," he said, "but I'll bet my wig there's fever here."
If the men's behavior had been alarming in the boat, it became truly threatening when they came aboard.
They lay around the deck, grumbling together in talk.
The smallest order was received with a black look and obeyed carelessly and unwillingly.
Even the honest hands must have caught the infection, for there wasn't one man aboard to improve another.
Mutiny, it was clear, hung over us like a thunder-cloud.
And it wasn't only those of us in the cabin who saw the danger.
Long John was hard at work, going from group to group, spending himself in good advice.
As an example, no man could have shown a better one.
He fairly outdid himself in willingness and politeness, he was all smiles to everyone.
If an order was 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 hide the discontent of the rest.
Of all the gloomy features of that gloomy afternoon, this obvious worry on the part of Long John seemed the worst.
We held a meeting in the cabin.
"Sir," said the captain.
"If I give another order, the whole ship will come down around our ears."
"You see, sir, here it's."
"I get a rough answer, don't I?"
"Well, if I answer back, pikes will be flying in two shakes."
"If I don't, Silver will see there's something behind it, and the game's up."
"Now, we've only got one man we can rely on."
"And who's that?" asked the squire.
"Silver, sir," replied the captain.
"He's as worried as you and I to keep things quiet."
"This is a small quarrel."
"He'd soon talk them out of it if he had the chance."
"What I propose is to give him that chance."
"Let's allow the men an afternoon ashore."
"If they all go, then we'll fight for the ship."
"If none of them go, then we hold the cabin, and God defend the right."
"If some go, you mark my words, sir, Silver will bring them back as mild as lambs."
It was decided, Loaded pistols were given to all the loyal men.
Hunter, Joyce, and Redruth were told our plan.
They received the news with less surprise and a better spirit than we had expected.
Then the captain went on deck and spoke to the crew.
"My lads," he said, "we've had a hot day and we're all tired and out of sorts."
"A turn ashore won't hurt anyone, the boats are still in the water," he said.
"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'd find treasure as soon as they landed.
They all came out of their bad moods in a moment and gave a cheer.
The cheer started an echo in a faraway hill and sent the birds flying and squalling around the anchorage.
The captain was too smart to get in the way.
He slipped out of sight in a moment, leaving Silver to arrange the party.
I think it was just as well he did so.
If he had stayed on deck, he could no longer pretend not to understand the situation.
It was as plain as day, Silver was the captain, and he had a very rebellious crew to deal with.
The honest hands must have been very stupid fellows.
I was soon to see proof that there were such on board.
Or rather, I suppose the truth was this, all hands were affected by the example of the ringleaders.
Some more, some less, and a few, being good fellows at heart, could neither be led nor driven any further.
It's one thing to be lazy and hide from work, and quite another to take a ship and murder a number of innocent men.
At last, however, the party was arranged.
Six men were to stay on board, and the remaining thirteen, including Silver, began to get into the boats.
Then it was that the first of my mad ideas came into my head, these ideas helped save our lives.
If six men were left by Silver, it was clear that our party couldn't take and fight the ship.
And since only six were left, it was equally clear that the cabin party didn't need my help right now.
It occurred to me at once to go ashore.
In a moment, I had slipped over the side and curled up in the front of the nearest boat.
Almost at the same moment, she pushed off.
No one took notice of me, except the bow oarsman, who said, "Is that you, Jim?"
"Keep your head down." But Silver, from the other boat, looked sharply over and called out to ask if that was me.
From that moment, I began to regret what I had done.
The crews raced for the beach, but the boat I was in had a head start and was both lighter and better manned.
It shot far ahead of the other boat.
The bow struck among the shore-side trees.
I 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 can be sure I paid no attention.
Jumping, ducking, and breaking through, I ran straight ahead until I could run no longer.