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Treasure Island
Chapter 27. "Pieces of Eight"
Because the ship was tilted, the masts hung far out over the water.
From my seat on the cross-trees, I had nothing below me but the surface of the bay.
Hands, who wasn't as high up, was closer to the ship and fell between me and the side.
He rose once to the surface in a foam of blood and then sank again for good.
As the water settled, I could see him lying on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the ship's sides.
A fish or two swam past his body.
Sometimes, because the water moved, he seemed to move a little, as if he were trying to rise.
But he was dead enough, being both shot and drowned.
He was food for fish in the very place where he had planned to kill me.
As soon as I was sure of this, I began to feel sick, faint, and terrified.
The hot blood was running over my back and chest.
The knife, where it had pinned my shoulder to the mast, seemed to burn like hot iron.
Yet it wasn't these real pains that troubled me most.
I felt I could bear those without a complaint.
It was the horror of falling from the cross-trees into that still green water, beside the body of the coxswain.
I held on with both hands until my nails ached.
I shut my eyes as if to hide from the danger.
Slowly my mind came back, My heart quieted down to a more normal beat, and I was in control of myself again.
My first thought was to pull out the knife.
But either it stuck too hard or my nerve failed me.
I stopped with a violent shake, Oddly enough, that shake did the job.
The knife had almost missed me completely.
It held me by just a small piece of skin, and the shake tore it away.
The blood ran down faster, of course, but I was my own master again.
I was only held to the mast by my coat and shirt.
I broke through these with a sudden pull.
Then I got back to the deck by the starboard ropes.
I wouldn't have dared to use the port ropes, from which Israel had just fallen.
I went below and did what I could for my wound.
It hurt a lot and still bled freely, but it was neither deep nor dangerous.
It didn't bother me much when I used my arm, then I looked around.
Since the ship was now, in a sense, my own, I began to think about clearing it of its last passenger, the dead man, O'Brien.
He had fallen against the side, as I said.
He lay there like some horrible, ugly puppet, life-size, but very different from life's color or beauty.
In that position I could easily deal with him.
Since dangerous adventures had worn off all my fear of the dead, I took him by the waist like a sack of grain.
With one good push, I threw him overboard.
He went in with a loud splash.
The red cap came off and stayed floating on the surface.
As soon as the splash settled, I could see him and Israel lying side by side, both moving with the water's motion.
O'Brien, though still quite young, was very bald.
There he lay, with that bald head across the knees of the man who had killed him.
The quick fish swam to and fro over both.
I was now alone on the ship, the tide had just turned.
The sun was near setting, the pines' shadow from the western shore already crossed the anchorage in patterns on the deck.
The evening breeze had started, cool and whispering through the tops of the pines.
Though the hill with the two peaks to the east blocked it, the ropes had begun to sing a little to themselves.
And the idle sails began to rattle to and fro.
I began to see a danger to the ship.
I quickly lowered the jibs and brought them down to the deck.
But the main-sail was harder, When the schooner tilted, the boom had swung out.
The end of it and a foot or two of sail hung even under water.
I thought this made it even more dangerous.
Yet the strain was so heavy that I almost feared to touch it.
At last I got my knife and cut the ropes.
The peak dropped at once, a great belly of loose canvas floated wide on the water.
Since I couldn't move the downhaul, no matter how hard I pulled, that was all I could do.
For the rest, the HISPANIOLA had to trust to luck, like myself.
By this time the whole anchorage had fallen into shadow.
The last rays, I remember, fell through a clearing in the wood and shone bright as jewels on the flowery covering of the wreck.
It began to get cold, the tide was quickly going out to sea.
The schooner was settling more and more on its side.
I climbed forward and looked over, it seemed shallow enough.
Holding the cut rope in both hands for safety, I let myself drop softly overboard.
The water barely reached my waist, the sand was firm and covered with ripple marks.
I waded ashore in great spirits, leaving the HISPANIOLA on its side, with its main-sail trailing wide on the surface of the bay.
At about the same time, the sun went down completely.
The breeze whistled low in the dusk among the tossing pines.
At last, I was off the sea, and I hadn't returned empty-handed.
There lay the schooner, clear at last of pirates and ready for our own men to board and take to sea again.
I wanted nothing more than to get home to the stockade and boast of my achievements.
Maybe I'd be blamed a bit for leaving without permission.
But the recapture of the HISPANIOLA was a strong answer.
I hoped that even Captain Smollett would admit I hadn't wasted my time.
Thinking this, and in great spirits, I began to head home toward the block house and my companions.
I remembered that the most easterly of the rivers that flow into Captain Kidd's anchorage ran from the two-peaked hill on my left.
I went in that direction so I could cross the stream while it was small.
The wood was fairly open, Keeping along the lower slopes, I soon turned the corner of that hill.
Not long after, I waded across the watercourse, up to my mid-calf.
This brought me near to where I had met Ben Gunn, the maroon.
I walked more carefully, watching every side, the dusk had almost completely fallen.
As I came to the opening between the two peaks, I noticed a wavering glow against the sky.
There, I guessed, the man of the island was cooking his supper before a roaring fire.
Yet I wondered in my heart why he'd be so careless.
If I could see this light, might it not reach the eyes of Silver himself, where he camped on the shore among the marshes?
Gradually the night grew darker, I could barely guide myself even roughly toward my goal.
The double hill behind me and the Spy-glass on my right grew fainter and fainter.
The stars were few and pale, In the low ground where I walked, I kept tripping over bushes and falling into sandy pits.
Suddenly a kind of brightness fell around me.
I looked up, a pale glow of moonlight had landed on the top of the Spy-glass.
Soon after, I saw something broad and silvery moving low behind the trees, I knew the moon had risen.
With this to help me, I passed quickly over what remained of my journey.
Sometimes walking, sometimes running, I drew near to the stockade.
Yet, as I started to go through the grove that lies before it, I wasn't so careless.
I slowed my pace and went a little carefully.
It would have been a poor end to my adventures to get shot by my own party by mistake.
The moon was climbing higher and higher.
Its light began to fall here and there in patches through the more open parts of the wood.
Right in front of me, a glow of a different color appeared among the trees.
It was red and hot, Now and again it grew a little darker, as if it were the embers of a bonfire smoldering.
For the life of me, I couldn't think what it might be.
At last I came to the edge of the clearing.
The western end was already bathed in moonlight.
The rest, and the block house itself, still lay in a black shadow crossed with long silvery streaks of light.
On the other side of the house, a huge fire had burned down to clear embers.
It gave off a steady, red glow that contrasted strongly with the soft paleness of the moon.
There wasn't a soul moving nor a sound besides the noises of the breeze.
I stopped, with much wonder in my heart, and maybe a little terror too.
It wasn't our way to build big fires.
In fact, by the captain's orders, we were somewhat careful with firewood.
I began to fear that something had gone wrong while I was away.
I crept around by the eastern end, keeping close in shadow.
At a good spot, where the darkness was thickest, I crossed the palisade.
To be extra sure, I got on my hands and knees and crawled, without a sound, toward the corner of the house.
As I drew nearer, my heart suddenly felt much lighter.
Snoring isn't a pleasant noise in itself, and I have often complained about 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 sounded more reassuring to my ear.
But there was no doubt about one thing, they kept a terrible watch.
If it had been Silver and his men creeping in on them, not a soul would have seen daybreak.
That was what happened, I thought, when the captain was wounded.
Again I blamed myself sharply for leaving them in that danger with so few to stand guard.
By this time I had reached the door and stood up.
All was dark inside, I couldn't see anything.
As for sounds, there was the steady drone of the snorers and a small occasional noise, a flickering or pecking that I couldn't explain.
With my arms in front of me, I walked steadily in.
I planned to lie down in my own place, I thought with a silent laugh, and enjoy their faces when they found me in the morning.
My foot hit something soft, it was a sleeper's leg.
He turned and groaned, but didn't wake up.
And then, all of a sudden, a shrill voice broke out of the darkness,
"Pieces of eight!"
"Pieces of eight!"
"Pieces of eight!"
"Pieces of eight!"
"Pieces of eight!" And so on, 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 announced my arrival with her tiresome cry.
I had no time to recover, At the sharp, clipping tone of the parrot, the sleepers woke and jumped up.
With a mighty oath, the voice of Silver cried, "Who goes?"
I turned to run, I hit one person hard, stepped back, and ran straight into the arms of a second.
He closed on me and held me tight.
"Bring a torch, Dick," said Silver when my capture was certain.
And one of the men left the log-house and soon returned with a lighted brand.
PART SIX, Captain Silver, his parrot, and the tense night at the stockade