Reading Help Treasure Island Ch.IV-VI
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. `
` `
` `
` `
` 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 `
`
` 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. `
` `
` `
` `
` 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 `
`