A stream of loose gravel suddenly broke free from the steep, rocky hillside and rattled down through the trees.
I turned my eyes toward the sound without thinking.
A figure quickly jumped behind the trunk of a pine tree.
I could not tell what it was.
A bear?
A man?
A strange animal?
It looked dark and covered in hair, but I could see nothing more.
The sight of this new danger stopped me cold.
I felt trapped.
Behind me were the murderers from the ship.
Ahead of me was this unknown creature hiding in the forest.
At that moment, the danger I already knew seemed better than the danger I could not understand.
Compared with this wild thing, even Long John Silver seemed less frightening.
I turned around and started walking back toward the boats, carefully looking over my shoulder.
The creature appeared again at once.
It moved around in a wide circle and tried to cut me off.
I was already tired, and even if I had been as fresh as when I started, I knew I could never outrun it.
It moved from tree to tree like a deer.
It ran on two legs like a man, but it bent almost double as it moved.
It was unlike any man I had ever seen.
But now I was certain.
It was a man.
I suddenly remembered the stories I had heard about cannibals.
I almost shouted for help.
But knowing that this creature was human, no matter how wild he looked, gave me a little courage.
My fear of Silver began to return.
I stopped and tried to think of a way to escape.
Then I remembered my pistol.
The moment I realized I was not helpless, my courage came back.
I faced the island man and walked straight toward him.
By then, he had hidden behind another tree.
But he must have been watching me closely.
The moment I moved toward him, he stepped out and came forward.
Then he stopped.
He moved back.
Then forward again.
Finally, to my surprise, he dropped to his knees and stretched out his hands as if begging for mercy.
I stopped again.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Ben Gunn,” he answered.
His voice was rough and strange, like an old rusty lock.
“I’m poor Ben Gunn, and I haven’t spoken to a civilized man for three years.”
I could now see that he was a white man like me.
His face was actually quite pleasant.
Wherever his skin was exposed, the sun had burned it dark.
Even his lips were black, and his light-colored eyes looked strange against his dark face.
He was the most ragged person I had ever seen.
His clothes were made from old pieces of ship canvas and sailor’s cloth.
The strange collection of rags was held together with all kinds of things—brass buttons, pieces of wood, and loops of rope covered in tar.
Around his waist was an old leather belt with a brass buckle.
It was the only strong and proper thing he owned.
“Three years!” I cried.
“Were you shipwrecked?”
“No, mate,” he replied.
“I was marooned.”
I knew that word.
It meant a terrible punishment used by pirates.
A man would be left alone on a distant island with only a small amount of supplies and no hope of rescue.
“Marooned three years ago,” Ben continued.
“I’ve lived on goats, berries, and oysters ever since.”
“Wherever a man is,” he said, “a man can survive.”
“But, mate, I miss real food.”
“You don’t happen to have a piece of cheese, do you?”
“No?”
“Well, I’ve dreamed about cheese for many a long night.”
“Usually toasted cheese.”
“Then I wake up and find myself still here.”
“If I ever get back aboard the ship,” I said, “I’ll give you a whole mountain of cheese.”
All this time, he had been touching my jacket, looking at my hands, examining my boots, and enjoying every moment of being near another person.
But when I mentioned getting back aboard, his expression suddenly changed.
He became alert and suspicious.
“If ever you can get aboard again?” he repeated.
“Who is stopping you?”
“Not you, I hope,” I answered.
“That’s right!” he cried.
“Now tell me, what’s your name, mate?”
“Jim,” I told him.
“Jim, Jim,” he said happily.
“Well, Jim, I’ve lived a rough life.”
“You probably wouldn’t believe it.”
“Now tell me, would you think I had a very religious mother just by looking at me?”
“Not really,” I answered.
“Ah, but I did,” he said.
“She was extremely religious.”
“I was a good, polite boy once.”
“I could say my prayers and lessons so quickly that nobody could understand a word.”
“But look what happened to me, Jim.”
“It all started with playing games on graves.”
“That was the beginning.”
“My mother warned me it would lead to trouble.”
“And she was right.”
“But Providence brought me here.”
“I’ve thought about everything during my lonely years on this island.”
“I’ve become a better man again.”
“You won’t see me drinking much rum.”
“Only a tiny bit for good luck when I get the chance.”
“I’m going to live properly now.”
Then he looked around carefully and lowered his voice.
“And Jim… I’m rich.”
I became sure that the poor man had gone mad from living alone so long.
He must have seen the doubt on my face, because he repeated himself.
“Rich! Rich, I tell you!”
“And listen, Jim.”
“I’ll make a real man out of you.”
“You’ll thank your lucky stars that you were the first person to find me.”
Suddenly his face became serious.
He grabbed my hand tightly and raised one finger.
“Now, Jim, tell me the truth.”
“That ship over there isn’t Flint’s ship, is it?”
I suddenly had a hopeful idea.
Perhaps I had found someone who could help us.
“No,” I answered quickly.
“It isn’t Flint’s ship.”
“Flint is dead.”
“But I’ll tell you the truth.”
“Some of Flint’s old crew are aboard.”
“And that is very bad news for us.”
“Not a man with one leg?” he whispered.
“Silver?” I asked.
“Ah, Silver!” he cried.
“That was his name.”
“He is the cook.”
“And he is also the leader of the pirates.”
He was still holding my wrist.
When he heard this, he squeezed it hard.
“If Long John sent you here,” he said, “then I’m finished.”
“But where did you come from?”
I quickly decided what to do.
I told him everything.
I explained our voyage, the treasure hunt, and the danger we were facing.
He listened carefully.
When I finished, he patted me on the head.
“You’re a good lad, Jim,” he said.
“You’re in a terrible mess, aren’t you?”
“Put your trust in Ben Gunn.”
“Ben Gunn knows what to do.”
“Tell me something.”
“If your squire needed help, do you think he would be generous?”
I told him the squire was the most generous man I knew.
“Yes, but I don’t mean giving me a small job or fancy clothes,” Ben said.
“That’s not what I want.”
“What I mean is…”
“Would he give me, perhaps, one thousand pounds from the treasure?”
“I’m sure he would,” I said.
“We were all going to share it.”
“And a ride home too?” he asked carefully.
“Of course,” I cried.
“The squire is a gentleman.”
“And if we defeat the pirates, we will need your help sailing the ship home.”
“Ah,” Ben said.
“That is good to hear.”
Then he continued:
“I’ll tell you this much, and no more.”
“I was on Flint’s ship when he buried the treasure.”
“He went ashore with six strong sailors.”
“They spent nearly a week on land while the ship waited nearby.”
“One morning, a signal appeared.”
“Then Flint returned alone in a small boat.”
“His head was wrapped in a blue cloth.”
“The sun was rising, and he looked as pale as death.”
“But the six men were gone.”
“They were all dead and buried.”
“How he did it, nobody knew.”
“It must have been a fight, a murder, and a terrible struggle.”
“Flint against six men.”
“Billy Bones was the first mate.”
“Long John Silver was the quartermaster.”
“They asked Flint where the treasure was.”
“He said, ‘You can go ashore if you want and stay there.’”
“But the ship would sail away without them.”
“That was Flint.”
“Three years ago, I was on another ship.”
“We saw this island.”
“I told the crew, ‘This is where Flint’s treasure is. Let’s go find it.’”
“The captain was angry.”
“But the other sailors agreed with me.”
“We landed.”
“For twelve days they searched.”
“Every day they became more angry with me.”
“Then one morning they sailed away.”
“They left me behind.”
“They gave me a gun, a shovel, and a pickaxe.”
“They told me to find Flint’s treasure myself.”
“So here I have been for three years.”
“No real food.”
“No other people.”
“But look at me, Jim.”
“Do I look like an ordinary sailor?”
“No,” I said.
“That’s right.”
“I wasn’t just an ordinary sailor.”
He winked and squeezed my arm.
“Remember these words when you talk to your squire, Jim.”
“Tell him Ben Gunn is a good man.”
“Tell him Ben Gunn trusts a true gentleman much more than those so-called gentlemen of fortune.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t understand everything you’re saying.”
“But that doesn’t matter.”
“How can I get back to the ship?”
“Ah,” Ben said.
“That is the difficult part.”
“But I have a boat.”
“I built it myself.”
“I keep it under the white rock.”
“If things become desperate, we can use it after dark.”
“Wait!”
“What’s that?”
At that moment, although there was still an hour or two before sunset, the whole island suddenly echoed with the thunder of a cannon.
“They have started fighting!” I shouted.
“Follow me!”
I began running toward the anchorage.
My fears were forgotten.
Beside me, the marooned man in his goat-skin clothes ran easily and lightly.
“Left! Left!” he called.
“Keep to the left, Jim!”
“Go under the trees!”
“That’s where I killed my first goat.”
“They don’t come here anymore.”
“They stay up on the hills because they fear Benjamin Gunn.”
“And there’s the cemetery!”
He meant cemetery.
“See those mounds?”
“Sometimes I come here and pray.”
“When I think Sunday has arrived.”
“It isn’t a real church.”
“But it feels more serious.”
“And you can say Ben Gunn had no one to guide him.”
“No priest.”
“No Bible.”
“No flag.”
He continued talking while I ran.
He did not expect an answer.
He only seemed happy to have someone who would listen.
The cannon fire was followed by a long silence.
Then came a sudden burst of gunshots.
Another pause.
And then, less than a quarter of a mile ahead of me, I saw the Union Jack waving above the trees.