It was about half past one in the afternoon—what sailors called three bells—when the two boats from the Hispaniolareached the shore.
Captain Smollett, the squire, and I were still in the cabin discussing what to do.
“If there had been even a little wind,” the captain said, “we could have attacked the six remaining mutineers, cut the anchor rope, and sailed away.”
“But there wasn’t a breath of wind,” I replied.
To make matters worse, Hunter suddenly came down with terrible news.
“Jim Hawkins has escaped into one of the boats,” he said. “He has gone ashore with the others.”
None of us doubted Jim’s loyalty, but we were deeply worried about him.
“With those men in their current mood, there’s no telling if we’ll ever see the boy again,” the squire said.
We hurried onto the deck.
The heat was unbearable. The tar in the ship’s seams was bubbling, and the disgusting smell of the place made me feel sick. If anyone had ever smelled a place full of disease and decay, it was that horrible anchorage.
The six pirates were sitting under a sail near the front of the ship, complaining and grumbling.
On shore, we could see the two small boats tied up near the river mouth. A man sat in each boat, guarding them.
One of them was happily whistling “Lillibullero.”
Waiting was unbearable.
At last, we decided that Hunter and I would go ashore in the small boat to gather information.
The pirates’ boats turned slightly to one side, but Hunter and I rowed straight toward the location marked on the chart—the stockade.
The two men guarding the boats looked nervous when they saw us approaching.
The whistling stopped.
I could see them whispering together, wondering what they should do.
If they had gone to warn Silver, things might have turned out very differently.
But they must have remembered their orders, because they stayed where they were and soon started whistling “Lillibullero” again.
There was a small curve in the coastline, and I steered behind it so the pirates would lose sight of us.
Before we even reached the shore, the two boats had disappeared from view.
I jumped out of the boat and moved as quickly as I could.
I wore a large silk handkerchief under my hat to protect myself from the heat, and I kept two loaded pistols ready in case of trouble.
I had not gone a hundred yards before I reached the stockade.
This was what I found.
A clear spring of fresh water came out near the top of a small hill.
Around that spring, they had built a strong wooden house large enough to hold about forty people in an emergency.
The walls had small openings for muskets on every side.
Around the house, they had cleared away all the trees and bushes.
Then they had built a six-foot wooden fence around the whole place.
There was no gate or opening.
It was too strong for attackers to break down quickly, but too exposed for enemies trying to attack it.
Anyone inside the wooden house would have a huge advantage.
They could stay safely behind cover and shoot the attackers like hunters shooting birds.
All they needed was enough food and someone keeping watch.
Unless they were completely surprised, they could probably defend the place against a whole army.
The thing I liked most about the stockade was the spring.
The Hispaniola had plenty of weapons, food, and excellent wine, but we had forgotten one very important thing.
We had no fresh water.
I was thinking about this when a terrible scream suddenly echoed across the island.
It was the cry of a man dying.
I was not unfamiliar with death. I had served under the Duke of Cumberland and had even been wounded myself at Fontenoy.
But my heart still raced.
My first thought was simple.
“Jim Hawkins is dead.”
Being an old soldier teaches you to act quickly.
Being a doctor teaches you even more.
There was no time to hesitate.
I immediately turned back toward the shore and jumped into the boat.
Luckily, Hunter was a strong rower.
He pulled hard, and the boat rushed across the water.
Soon we reached the ship.
When I climbed aboard, I found everyone shaken.
The squire sat there pale as a sheet.
The poor man was blaming himself for bringing everyone into this danger.
One of the six pirates aboard looked almost as frightened.
Captain Smollett pointed toward him.
“There’s a man who isn’t used to this kind of work,” the captain said.
“He nearly fainted when he heard that scream. A little more pressure, and he might have joined us.”
I explained my plan to Captain Smollett.
After discussing the details, we agreed on what to do.
We placed old Redruth in the passage between the cabin and the front of the ship.
He had several loaded muskets and a mattress for protection.
Hunter brought the boat around to the back of the ship.
Joyce and I began loading it.
We filled it with powder tins, muskets, bags of biscuits, barrels of pork, a cask of brandy, and my precious medicine chest.
Meanwhile, the squire and Captain Smollett stayed on deck.
The captain called out to Mr. Hands, the main man among the pirates.
“Mr. Hands,” he said, “there are two of us here, and each of us has two pistols.”
“If any one of you six tries to send a signal, that man dies.”
The pirates were shocked.
After a short discussion, they all went below deck, probably hoping to attack us from behind.
But when they saw Redruth waiting for them with weapons ready, they quickly turned around.
A head appeared again on deck.
“Down, you dog!” shouted Captain Smollett.
The head disappeared immediately.
For the moment, we heard no more from the six frightened sailors.
By then, we had loaded the small boat as much as we safely could.
Joyce and I climbed out through the back opening of the ship.
Then we rowed toward shore as fast as possible.
This second trip made the guards suspicious.
The song “Lillibullero” stopped again.
Just before the small point of land hid us from their sight, one of the guards jumped ashore and disappeared.
I almost changed my mind and decided to destroy their boats.
But I feared Silver and the others might be nearby.
Trying to do too much could ruin everything.
Soon we reached the same landing place as before.
We began carrying supplies into the stockade.
All three of us made the first trip, carrying heavy loads and throwing the supplies over the wooden wall.
Then Joyce stayed behind to guard the fort.
He was only one man, but he had several muskets.
Hunter and I returned to the boat and loaded it again.
We continued without stopping until everything had been moved inside.
Then Hunter and Joyce took their positions in the stockade.
I used all my strength to row back alone to the Hispaniola.
Looking back, the second trip seemed more dangerous than it really was.
The pirates had more men, but we had better weapons.
None of the men on shore had muskets.
Before they could get close enough to use their pistols, we believed we could defeat several of them.
The squire was waiting for me at the back window of the ship.
He looked much stronger now.
He grabbed the rope, tied the boat securely, and immediately helped load supplies again.
This time, we were preparing for survival.
The boat was filled with pork, powder, and biscuits.
The squire, Captain Smollett, Redruth, and I each carried only one musket and one cutlass.
The rest of the weapons and powder were thrown overboard into about two and a half fathoms of water.
The clear sunlight showed the shining metal lying on the clean sandy bottom.
The tide was beginning to fall.
The ship started turning around its anchor.
From the direction of the two pirate boats, we could hear distant voices shouting.
This was good news for Hunter and Joyce, who were farther east.
But it also meant we had to leave quickly.
Redruth left his position and climbed into the boat.
We moved the boat around to the side of the ship, where Captain Smollett could board more easily.
The captain called out.
“Now, men, can you hear me?”
There was no answer from the front of the ship.
“Abraham Gray, I’m speaking to you.”
Still nothing.
“Gray,” Captain Smollett called louder, “I am leaving this ship, and I order you to follow your captain.”
“I know there is still a good man inside you. I doubt every one of those men is as bad as they seem.”
He looked at his watch.
“You have thirty seconds to join me.”
Silence followed.
“Come on, my good fellow,” the captain continued.
“Don’t waste too much time. Every second I wait puts my life and the lives of these gentlemen at risk.”
Suddenly, there was a struggle below.
We heard shouting and the sound of fighting.
Then Abraham Gray burst out.
A knife had cut his cheek, but he ran straight toward Captain Smollett.
“I’m with you, sir,” he said.
The next moment, Gray and the captain jumped into our boat.
We pushed away from the ship and rowed toward shore.
We had escaped the Hispaniola.
But we had not yet reached the safety of our stockade.