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There was no return of the mutineers--not so much as another shot out ofthe woods. They had "got their rations for that day," as the captain putit, and we had the place to ourselves and a quiet time to overhaul thewounded and get dinner. Squire and I cooked outside, in spite of thedanger, and even outside we could hardly tell what we were at, for thehorror 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 stillbreathed--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 asdead; the mutineer, indeed, died under the doctor's knife, and Hunter,do what we could, never recovered consciousness in this world. Helingered all day, breathing loudly like the old buccaneer at home in hisapoplectic fit; but the bones of his chest had been crushed by the blowand his skull fractured in falling, and some time in the followingnight, 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 shothim first--had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, notbadly; 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 forweeks to come, he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much as speakwhen he could help it.

My own accidental cut across the knuckles was a flea-bite. DoctorLivesey patched it up with plaster, and pulled my ears for me into thebargain.

After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the captain's side awhilein consultation; and when they had talked to their heart's content, itbeing 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 overhis shoulder, crossed the palisade on the north side and set off brisklythrough the trees.

Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the blockhouse, to beout of earshot of our officers, consulting, and Gray took his pipe outof his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back again, so thunderstruck hewas at this occurrence.

"Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Doctor Livesey mad?"

"Why, no," says I. "He's about the last of this crew for that, I takeit."

"Well, shipmate," said Gray, "mad he may not be, but if _he's_ not, markmy 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 beingstifling hot, and the little patch of sand inside the palisade ablazewith midday sun, I began to get another thought into my head which wasnot 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 andthe pleasant smell of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothesstuck to the hot resin, and so much blood about me, and so many poordead bodies lying all around, that I took a disgust of the place thatwas almost as strong as fear.

All the time I was washing out the blockhouse, and then washing up thethings from dinner, this disgust and envy kept growing stronger andstronger, till at last, being near a bread-bag, and no one thenobserving me, I took the first step toward my escapade and filled bothpockets 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 inmy power. These biscuits, should anything befall me, would keep me atleast from starving till far on in the next day.

The next thing I laid hold of was a brace of pistols, and as I alreadyhad 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. Itwas to go down the sandy spit that divides the anchorage on the eastfrom the open sea, find the white rock I had observed last evening, andascertain whether it was there or not that Ben Gunn had hidden hisboat--a thing quite worth doing, as I still believe. But as I wascertain I should not be allowed to leave the inclosure, my only plan wasto take French leave and slip out when nobody was watching, and that wasso bad a way of doing it as made the thing itself wrong. But I was onlya boy and I had made my mind up.

Well, as things at last fell out, I found an admirable opportunity. Thesquire and Gray were busy helping the captain with his bandages; thecoast was clear; I made a bolt for it over the stockade and into thethickest of the trees, and before my absence was observed I was out ofcry of my companions.

This was my second folly, far worse than the first, as I left but twosound men to guard the house; but, like the first, it was a help towardsaving all of us.

I took my way straight for the east coast of the island, for I wasdetermined to go down the seaside of the spit to avoid all chance ofobservation from the anchorage. It was already late in the afternoon,although still warm and sunny. As I continued to thread the tall woods Icould hear from far before me not only the continuous thunder of thesurf, but a certain tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs whichshowed me the sea breeze set in higher than usual. Soon cool draughts ofair began to reach me, and a few steps farther I came forth into theopen borders of the grove and saw the sea lying blue and sunny to thehorizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along the beach.

I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure Island. The sun mightblaze overhead, the air be without a breath, the surface smooth andblue, but still these great rollers would be running along all theexternal coast, thundering and thundering by day and night, and I scarcebelieve there is one spot in the island where a man would be out ofearshot of their noise.

I walked along beside the surf with great enjoyment, till, thinking Iwas now got far enough to the south, I took the cover of some thickbushes and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit.

Behind me was the sea; in front, the anchorage. The sea-breeze, asthough it had the sooner blown itself out by its unusual violence, wasalready at an end; it had been succeeded by light, variable airs fromthe south and southeast, carrying great banks of fog; and the anchorage,under lee of Skeleton Island, lay still and leaden as when first weentered it. The _Hispaniola_, in that unbroken mirror, was exactlyportrayed from the truck to the water-line, the Jolly Roger hanging fromher peak.

Alongside lay one of the gigs, Silver in the stern-sheets--him I couldalways recognize--while a couple of men were leaning over the sternbulwarks, one of them with a red cap--the very rogue that I had seensome hours before stride-legs upon the palisade. Apparently they weretalking and laughing, though at that distance--upward of a mile--I couldof course hear no word of what was said.

All at once there began the most horrid, unearthly screaming, which atfirst startled me badly, though I had soon remembered the voice ofCaptain Flint, and even thought I could make out the bird by her brightplumage as she sat perched upon her master's wrist.

Soon after the jolly-boat shoved off and pulled for shore, and the manwith 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, andas the fog was collecting rapidly, it began to grow dark in earnest. Isaw 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 ofa mile farther down the spit, and it took me a goodish while to get upwith it, crawling, often on all-fours, among the scrub. Night had almostcome when I laid my hand on its rough sides. Right below it there wasan exceedingly small hollow of green turf, hidden by banks and a thickunderwood about knee-deep, that grew there very plentifully; and in thecenter of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat-skins, like whatthe gypsies carry about with them in England.

I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent, and there wasBen Gunn's boat--homemade if ever anything was homemade--a rude,lopsided framework of tough wood, and stretched upon that a covering ofgoat-skin, with the hair inside. The thing was extremely small, even forme, and I can hardly imagine that it could have floated with afull-sized man. There was one thwart set as low as possible, a kind ofstretcher in the bows, and a double paddle for propulsion.

I had not then seen a coracle, such as the ancient Britons made, but Ihave seen one since, and I can give you no fairer idea of Ben Gunn'sboat than by saying it was like the first and the worst coracle evermade by man. But the great advantage of the coracle it certainlypossessed, for it was exceedingly light and portable.

Well, now that I had found the boat, you would have thought I had hadenough of truantry for once; but in the meantime I had taken anothernotion, and become so obstinately fond of it that I would have carriedit out, I believe, in the teeth of Captain Smollett himself. This was toslip out under cover of the night, cut the _Hispaniola_ adrift, and lether go ashore where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind that themutineers, after their repulse of the morning, had nothing nearer theirhearts than to up anchor and away to sea; this, I thought, it would be afine thing to prevent, and now that I had seen how they left theirwatchman unprovided with a boat, I thought it might be done with littlerisk.

Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made a hearty meal of biscuit. Itwas a night out of ten thousand for my purpose. The fog had now buriedall heaven. As the last rays of daylight dwindled and disappeared,absolute blackness settled down on Treasure Island. And when, at last, Ishouldered the coracle, and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollowwhere I had supped, there were but two points visible on the wholeanchorage.

One was the great fire on shore, by which the defeated pirates laycarousing in the swamp. The other, a mere blur of light upon thedarkness, indicated the position of the anchored ship. She had swunground to the ebb--her bow was now toward me--the only lights on boardwere in the cabin; and what I saw was merely a reflection on the fog ofthe strong rays that flowed from the stern window.

The ebb had already run some time, and I had to wade through a long beltof swampy sand, where I sank several times above the ankle, before Icame to the edge of the retreating water, and wading a little way in,with some strength and dexterity, set my coracle, keel downward, on thesurface.