October 21, 2023 • 23 mins
Treasure IslandThe story is narrated by young Jim Hawkins, who becomes embroiled in a thrilling tale of piracy and buried treasure. When Jim and his mother discover a map in the chest of their inn's deceased lodger, Billy Bones, they realize it points to the legendary treasure of Captain Flint, a notorious pirate. This discovery leads to Jim embarking on a perilous voyage aboard the Hispaniola to Skeleton Island, where the treasure is believed to be hidden.During the journey, Jim discovers that a large portion of the ship's crew is composed of pirates, formerly under the command of Flint, and now led by the cunning and charismatic Long John Silver. Silver and his crew plan to mutiny once they reach the island and claim the treasure for themselves.The story unfolds with battles, treachery, loyalty, and cunning strategy. Throughout his adventure, Jim encounters danger at every turn, from deadly skirmishes with the pirates to encounters with the island's indigenous inhabitants."Treasure Island" is not just a tale of adventure but also a coming-of-age story for Jim, who must navigate moral ambiguities, learn whom to trust, and grow into his own as a young man. The novel also delves into themes of greed, loyalty, and the unpredictability of human nature.The character of Long John Silver, with his mix of ruthlessness and charm, is one of literature's most famous and complex pirates. Stevenson's vivid characters, combined with the suspenseful narrative, make "Treasure Island" a timeless tale that has captivated readers for generations.
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(00:00):
Treasure Island by Robert Lewis Stevenson.This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
recordings are in the public domain.For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. Treasure Islandby Robert Lewis Stevenson, read by Adrian
(00:21):
Pratzellus, Chapter twenty three. TheEBB Tide runs the Coracle, as I
had ample reason to know before Iwas done with her, was a very
safe boat for a person my heightand weight, both buoyant and clever in
a sea way. But she wasthe most cross grained, lop sided craft
(00:45):
to manage. Do as you pleased. She always made more leeway than anything
else, and turning round and roundwas the maneuver she was best at.
Even ben Gunn himself has admitted thatshe was queer to handle till you knew
her way. Certainly I did notknow her way. She turned in every
(01:06):
direction but the one I was boundto go. The most part of the
time we were broadside on, andI am very sure I never should have
made the ship at all but forthe tide. By good fortune paddler,
as I pleased, the tide wasstill sweeping me down, and there lay
the Hispaniola right in the fairway,hardly to be missed. First she loomed
(01:29):
before me like a blot of somethingyeted blacker than darkness. Then her spars
and hull began to shake shape.And the next moment, as it seemed
for the further, I went tothe brisker grew the current of the ebb.
I was alongside of her hawser andhad laid hold. The hawser was
as taut as a bowstring, andthe current so strong she pulled upon her
(01:53):
anchor all round the hull in theblackness. The rippling current bubbled and chattered
like a little mountain stream. Onecut with my sea gully, and the
Hispaniola would go humming down the tide. So far, so good. But
it next occurred to my recollection thata tight hawser suddenly cut is a thing
(02:15):
as dangerous as a kicking horse.Ten to one. If I were so
fool hardy as to cut the Hispaniolafrom her anchor, I and the coracle
would be knocked clean out of thewater. This brought me to a full
stop, and if fortune had notagain particularly favored me, I should have
had to abandon my design but thelight airs, which had begun blowing from
(02:38):
the southeast and south, had hauledround after nightfall into the southwest. Just
while I was meditating, a puffcame caught the Hispaniola and forced her up
into the current, And to mygreat joy, I felt the horse a
slacken in my grasp, and thehand by which I held it dip for
(03:00):
a second under water. With thatI made my mind up, took out
my gully, opened it with myteeth, and cut one strand after another,
till the vessel swung only by two. Then I lay quiet, waiting
to sever these last when the strainsshould be once more lightened by a breath
(03:20):
of wind. At this time Ihad heard the sound of loud voices from
the cabin, But to say thetruth, my mind had been so entirely
taken up with other thoughts that Ihad scarcely given ear Now, however,
when I had nothing else to do, I began to pay more heed.
One I recognized for the coxswains israelhands that had been Flint's gunner in former
(03:45):
days. The other was, ofcourse, my friend of the red night
cap. Both men were plainly theworst of drink, and they were still
drinking. For even while I waslistening, one of them, with a
drunken cry, opened the stern windowand threw out something which I divined to
be an empty bottle. But theywere not only tipsy, it was plain
(04:09):
that they were furiously angry. Oathsflew like hailstones, and every now and
then there came forth such an explosion, as I thought, was sure to
end in blows. But each timethe quarrel passed off, and the voices
grumbled lower for a while, untilthe next crisis came and in its turn
(04:30):
passed away without result. On shore, I could see the glow of the
great camp fire burning warmly through theshore side trees. Someone was singing a
dull, old, droning sailor's song, with a droop and a quaver at
the end of each verse, andseemingly no end to it all but the
patience of the singer. I hadheard it on the voyage more than once
(04:53):
and remembered these words, ah waman of the crew live she is seventy
five. And I thought it wasa ditty, rather too dolefully appropriate for
a company that had met such cruellosses in the morning. But indeed from
(05:14):
what I saw. All these buccaneerswere as callous as the sea they sailed
on. At last, the breezecame, the schooner sidled and drew nearer
in the dark. I felt thehaars a slacken once more, and with
a good tough effort, cut thelast fibers through. The breeze had but
little action on the coracle, andI was almost instantly swept against the boughs
(05:39):
of this spaniola. At the sametime, the schooner began to turn upon
her heel, spinning slowly end forend across the current. I wrought like
a fiend, for I expected everymoment to be swamped. And since I
found I could not push the coracledirectly off, I now shoved straight astern
(06:00):
at length. I was clear ofmy dangerous neighbor, and just as I
gave the last impulsion, my handscame across a light cord that was trailing
overboard across the stern bulwarks. InstantlyI grasped it. Why I should have
done so, I can hardly sayit was at first a mere instinct.
But once I had it in myhands and found it fast, curiosity began
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to get the upper hand and Idetermined I should have one look through the
cabin window. I pulled in handover hand on the cord, and when
I judged myself near enough, roseat infinite risk to about half my height,
and thus commanded the roof and aslice of the interior of the cabin.
By this time, the schooner andher little consort were gliding pretty swiftly
(06:49):
through the water. Indeed, wehad already fetched up level with the camp
fire. The ship was talking,as sailors say, loudly, treading the
measurable ripples with an incessant, welteringsplash. And until I got my eye
above the window, still I couldnot comprehend why the watchman had taken no
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alarm. One glance, however,was sufficient, and it was only one
glance that I durst take from thatunsteady skiff. It showed me hands and
his companion locked together in deadly wrestle, each with a hand on the other's
throat. I dropped upon the thwartagain, none too soon, for I
(07:31):
was near overboard. I could seenothing for the moment but these two furious
and crimsoned faces swaying together under thesmoky lamp, and I shut my eyes,
to let them grow once more familiarwith the darkness. The endless ballad
had come to an end at last, and the whole diminished company about the
camp fire had broken into the chorusI had heard so often, fifty men
(07:59):
on the dead man's chest, yooh, and a bottle of rum drink and
a dev love and feather rest yoo. Ram. I was just thinking how
busy drink and the devil were atthat very moment in the cabin of the
(08:20):
Hispaniola, when I was surprised bya sudden lurch of the coracle. At
the same moment, she yawed sharplyand seemed to change her course. The
speed in the meantime had strangely increased. I opened my eyes at once.
All around me were little ripples combingover with a sharp bristling sound and slightly
(08:43):
phosphorescent. The Hispaniola herself, afew yards in whose wake I was still
being whirled along, seemed to staggerin her course, and I saw her
spars toss a little against the blacknessof the night. Nay. As I
looked long, I made sure shealso was wheeling to the southward. I
(09:03):
glanced over my shoulder, and myheart jumped against my ribs. There right
behind me was the glow of thecamp fire. The current had turned at
right angles, sweeping round along withit the tall schooner and the little dancing
coracle. Ever quickening, ever bubblinghigher, ever muttering louder, it went
(09:24):
spinning through the narrows for the opensea. Suddenly the schooner in front of
me gave a violent yaw, turningperhaps through twenty degrees, and almost at
the same moment, one shout followedanother from on board. I could hear
feet pounding on the companion ladder,and I knew that the two drunkards had
(09:45):
at last been interrupted in their quarrel, and awakened to a sense of their
disaster. I laid down flat inthe bottom of that wretched skiff and devoutly
recommended my spirit to its maker.At the end of the straits, I
had made sure we must fall intosome bar of raging breakers, where all
of my troubles would be ended speedily. And though I could perhaps bear to
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die, I could not bear tolook upon my fate as it approached.
So I must have lain for hours, continually beaten to and fro upon the
billows. Now and again wetted withflying sprays, and never ceasing to expect
death of the next plunge. Graduallyweariness grew upon me, a numbness.
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An occasional stupor fell upon my mind, even in the midst of my terrors,
until sleep at last intervened, andin my sea tossed Coracle, I
lay and dreamed of home and theold Admiral Benbo. End of Chapter twenty
three, Chapter twenty four, TheCruise of the Coracle. It was broad
(10:58):
day when I awoke and found myselftossing at the southwest end of Treasure Island.
The sun was up, but wasstill hid from me behind the great
bulk of the Spyglass, which onthis side descended almost to the sea.
In formidable cliffs, Hall Bowline Headand Mizenmass Hill were at my elbow,
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the hill bare and dark, thehead bound with cliffs forty or fifty feet
high and fringed with great masses offallen rock. I was scarcely a quarter
of a mile to seaward, andit was my first thought to paddle in
and land. That notion was soongiven over. Among the fallen rocks,
(11:41):
the breakers spouted and bellowed, loudreverberations, heavy sprays, flying and falling
succeeded one another from second to second, And I saw myself if I ventured
nearer, dashed to death upon therough shore, or spending my strength in
vain to scale the beetling crags.Nor was that all four crawling together on
(12:05):
flat tables of rock, or lettingthemselves drop into the sea with loud reports.
I beheld huge, slimy monsters,soft snails, as it were,
of incredible bigness, two or threescore of them together, making the rocks
to echo with their barkings. Ihave understood since that they were sea lions
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and entirely harmless. But the lookof them added to the difficulty of the
shore and the high running of thesurf, and was more than enough to
disgust me of that landing place.I felt willing rather to starve at sea
than to confront such perils. Inthe meantime, I had a better chance,
as I supposed before me. Northof hall Bowling Head, the land
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runs in a long way, leavingat low tide a long stretch of yellow
sand. To the north of thatagain there comes another cape, cape of
the woods, as it was markedupon the chart buried in tall green pines
which descended to the margin of thesea. I remembered what Silver had said
about the current that sets northward alongthe whole west coast of Treasure Island,
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and seeing from my position that Iwas already under its influence, I preferred
to leave Hall Bowling Head behind meand reserve my strength for an attempt to
land upon the kindlier looking cape ofthe woods. There was a great smooth
swell upon the sea, the windblowing steadily and gentle from the south.
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There was no contrarity between that andthe current, and the billows rose and
fell unbroken. Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished.
But as it was, it issurprising how easily and securely my little and
light boat could ride. Often,as I lay still at the bottom and
kept no more than an above thegunwale, I would see a big blue
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summit heaving close above me. Yetthe coracle would but bounce a little dance,
as if on springs, and subsideon the other side into the trough
as lightly as a bird. Ibegan, after a little to grow very
bold, and sat up to trymy skill at paddling, But even a
(14:22):
small change in the disposition of theweight will produce violent changes in the behavior
of a coracle. And I hadhardly moved before the boat giving up at
once her gentle dancing movement, ranstraight down a slope of water so steep
that it made me giddy, andstruck her nose with a spout of spray
(14:43):
deep into the side of the nextwave. I was drenched and terrified,
and fell instantly back into my oldposition, whereupon the coracle seemed to find
her head again and led me softlyas before among the billows. It was
plain she was not to be interferedwith, and at any rate, since
(15:05):
I could in no way influence hercourse, what hope had I of reaching
land, I began to be horriblyfrightened, but I kept my head for
all that first, Moving with allcare, I gradually baled out the coracle
with my sea cap. Then,getting my eye once more above the gunwale,
I set myself to study how itwas she managed to slip so quietly
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through the rollers. I found eachwave, instead of the big, smooth,
glossy mountain it looks from the shoreor from a vessel's deck, was
for all the world like any rangeof hills on the dry land, full
of peaks and smooth places and valleys. The coracle left to herself, turning
from side to side, threaded soto speak, her way through these lower
(15:54):
parts, and avoided the steep slopesand higher toppling summits of the wave.
Well, now, thought I tomyself. It is plain I must lie
where I am and not disturb thebalance. But it is plain also that
I can put the paddle over theside, and from time to time,
in smooth paces, give her ashove or two towards land. No sooner
(16:18):
thought upon than done. There Ilay on my elbows in the most trying
attitude, and every now and againgave a weak stroke or two to turn
her head to shore. It wasvery tiring and slow work, yet I
did visibly gain ground, and aswe drew near the cape of the woods,
though I saw I must infallibly missthat point, I had still made
(16:42):
some hundred yards of easting. Iwas indeed close in. I could see
the cool green tree tops swaying togetherin the breeze, and I felt sure
I should make the next promontory withoutfail. It was high time for I
now began to be tortured with thirst. The glow of the sun from above,
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its thousandfold reflection from the waves,The sea water that fell and dried
upon me, caking my very lipswith salt, combined to make my throat
burn and my brain ache. Thesight of the trees so near at hand
had almost made me sick with logging. But the current had soon carried me
(17:26):
past the point, and as thenext reach of sea opened out, I
beheld a sight that changed the natureof my thoughts. Right in front of
me, not half a mile away, I beheld the Hispaniola under sail.
I made sure, of course,that I should be taken, but I
was so distressed for want of waterthat I scarcely knew whether to be glad
(17:49):
or sorry at the thought. Andlong before I had come to the conclusion,
surprise had taken possession of my mind, and I could do nothing but
stare and wonder. The Hispaniola wasunder her mainsail and two jibs, and
the beautiful white canvas shone in thesun like snow or silver. When I
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first sighted her, all her sailswere drawing. She was laying a course
about northwest, and I presumed themen on board were going round the island
on their way back to the anchorage. Presently, she began to fetch more
and more to the westward, sothat I thought they had sighted me and
were going about in chase. Atlast, however, she fell right into
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the wind's eye, was taken deadaback, and stood there awhile helpless,
with her sails shivering. Clumsy Fellowssaid, I they must be still drunk
as owls, And I thought howCaptain Smollett would have set them skipping.
Meanwhile, the schooner gradually fell offand filled again upon another tack, sailed
(18:55):
swiftly for a minute or so,and brought up once more dead in the
wind. Again and again this wasrepeated to and fro up and down north,
southeast and west. The Hispaniola sailedby swoops and dashes, and at
each repetition ended as she had begun, with widly flapping canvas. It became
(19:18):
plain to me that nobody was steering, and if so, where were the
men. Either they were dead,drunk, or had deserted her. I
thought, and perhaps if I couldget on board, I might return the
vessel to her captain. The currentwas bearing coracle and schooner southward at an
equal rate as for the latter's sailing. It was so wild and intermittent,
(19:44):
and she hung each time so longin irons that she certainly gained nothing if
she did not even lose. IfI only dared to sit up and paddle,
I made sure that I could overhaulher. The scheme had an air
of adventure that inspired me, andthe thought of the water breaker beside the
fore companion doubled my growing courage.Up I got was welcomed almost instantly by
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another cloud of spray, But thistime stuck to my purpose and set myself
with all my strength and caution topaddle after the unsteered hispaniola. Once I
shipped a sea so heavy that Ihad to stop and bale, with my
heart fluttering like a bird. Butgradually I got into the way of the
thing and guided my coracle among thewaves with only now and then a blow
(20:33):
upon her bows and a dash offoam in my face. I was now
gaining rapidly on the schooner. Icould see the brass glisten on the tiller
as it banged about, and stillno soul appeared upon her decks. I
could not choose, But suppose shewas deserted. If not, the men
were lying drunk below, where Imight batten them down perhaps, and do
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what I chose with the ship.For some time she had been doing the
worst thing possible for me. Standingstill, she headed nearly due south,
yawing of course all the time.Each time she fell off, her sails
partly filled, and these brought herin a moment right to the wind.
Again. I have said this wasthe worst thing possible for me. For
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helpless as she looked in this situation, with the canvas crackling like cannon,
and the blocks trundling and banging onthe deck, she still continued to run
away from me, not only withthe speed of the current, but by
the whole amount of her leeway,which was naturally great. But now at
last I had my chance. Thebreeze fell for some seconds very low,
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and the current gradually turning her.The hispaniola revolved slowly around her center,
and at last presented me her stern, with the cabin windows still gaping open
and the lamp over the table stillburning on into the day, the mainntil
hung drooped like a banner. Shewas stock still but for the current.
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For the last little while I'd evenlost, but now redoubling my efforts,
I began once more to overhaul thechase. I was not one hundred yards
from her when the wind came againin a clap. She filled on the
port tack and was off again,stooping and skimming like a swallow. My
first impulse was one of despair,but my second was towards joy. Round
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she came till she was broadside onto me, round still, till she
had covered a half, and thentwo thirds, and then three quarters of
the distance that separated us. Icould see the waves boiling white under her
forefoot. Immensely tall, she lookedto me from my low station in the
coracle, and then of a suddenI began to comprehend. I had scarce
(22:52):
time to think, scarce time toact and save myself. I was on
the summit of one swell when theschooner came swooping over the next. The
bowsprit was over my head. Isprang on my feet and leapt, stamping
the coracle underwater. With one hand, I caught the jibboom while my foot
(23:12):
was lodged between the stay and thebrace, and as I still clung there,
panting, a dull blow told methat the schooner had charged down upon
and struck the coracle, and thatI was left without retreat on the Hispaniola
end of Chapter twenty four
Treasure Island by Robert Lewis Stevenson.This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
recordings are in the public domain.For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. Treasure Islandby Robert Lewis Stevenson, read by Adrian
(00:21):
Pratzellus, Chapter twenty three. TheEBB Tide runs the Coracle, as I
had ample reason to know before Iwas done with her, was a very
safe boat for a person my heightand weight, both buoyant and clever in
a sea way. But she wasthe most cross grained, lop sided craft
(00:45):
to manage. Do as you pleased. She always made more leeway than anything
else, and turning round and roundwas the maneuver she was best at.
Even ben Gunn himself has admitted thatshe was queer to handle till you knew
her way. Certainly I did notknow her way. She turned in every
(01:06):
direction but the one I was boundto go. The most part of the
time we were broadside on, andI am very sure I never should have
made the ship at all but forthe tide. By good fortune paddler,
as I pleased, the tide wasstill sweeping me down, and there lay
the Hispaniola right in the fairway,hardly to be missed. First she loomed
(01:29):
before me like a blot of somethingyeted blacker than darkness. Then her spars
and hull began to shake shape.And the next moment, as it seemed
for the further, I went tothe brisker grew the current of the ebb.
I was alongside of her hawser andhad laid hold. The hawser was
as taut as a bowstring, andthe current so strong she pulled upon her
(01:53):
anchor all round the hull in theblackness. The rippling current bubbled and chattered
like a little mountain stream. Onecut with my sea gully, and the
Hispaniola would go humming down the tide. So far, so good. But
it next occurred to my recollection thata tight hawser suddenly cut is a thing
(02:15):
as dangerous as a kicking horse.Ten to one. If I were so
fool hardy as to cut the Hispaniolafrom her anchor, I and the coracle
would be knocked clean out of thewater. This brought me to a full
stop, and if fortune had notagain particularly favored me, I should have
had to abandon my design but thelight airs, which had begun blowing from
(02:38):
the southeast and south, had hauledround after nightfall into the southwest. Just
while I was meditating, a puffcame caught the Hispaniola and forced her up
into the current, And to mygreat joy, I felt the horse a
slacken in my grasp, and thehand by which I held it dip for
(03:00):
a second under water. With thatI made my mind up, took out
my gully, opened it with myteeth, and cut one strand after another,
till the vessel swung only by two. Then I lay quiet, waiting
to sever these last when the strainsshould be once more lightened by a breath
(03:20):
of wind. At this time Ihad heard the sound of loud voices from
the cabin, But to say thetruth, my mind had been so entirely
taken up with other thoughts that Ihad scarcely given ear Now, however,
when I had nothing else to do, I began to pay more heed.
One I recognized for the coxswains israelhands that had been Flint's gunner in former
(03:45):
days. The other was, ofcourse, my friend of the red night
cap. Both men were plainly theworst of drink, and they were still
drinking. For even while I waslistening, one of them, with a
drunken cry, opened the stern windowand threw out something which I divined to
be an empty bottle. But theywere not only tipsy, it was plain
(04:09):
that they were furiously angry. Oathsflew like hailstones, and every now and
then there came forth such an explosion, as I thought, was sure to
end in blows. But each timethe quarrel passed off, and the voices
grumbled lower for a while, untilthe next crisis came and in its turn
(04:30):
passed away without result. On shore, I could see the glow of the
great camp fire burning warmly through theshore side trees. Someone was singing a
dull, old, droning sailor's song, with a droop and a quaver at
the end of each verse, andseemingly no end to it all but the
patience of the singer. I hadheard it on the voyage more than once
(04:53):
and remembered these words, ah waman of the crew live she is seventy
five. And I thought it wasa ditty, rather too dolefully appropriate for
a company that had met such cruellosses in the morning. But indeed from
(05:14):
what I saw. All these buccaneerswere as callous as the sea they sailed
on. At last, the breezecame, the schooner sidled and drew nearer
in the dark. I felt thehaars a slacken once more, and with
a good tough effort, cut thelast fibers through. The breeze had but
little action on the coracle, andI was almost instantly swept against the boughs
(05:39):
of this spaniola. At the sametime, the schooner began to turn upon
her heel, spinning slowly end forend across the current. I wrought like
a fiend, for I expected everymoment to be swamped. And since I
found I could not push the coracledirectly off, I now shoved straight astern
(06:00):
at length. I was clear ofmy dangerous neighbor, and just as I
gave the last impulsion, my handscame across a light cord that was trailing
overboard across the stern bulwarks. InstantlyI grasped it. Why I should have
done so, I can hardly sayit was at first a mere instinct.
But once I had it in myhands and found it fast, curiosity began
(06:25):
to get the upper hand and Idetermined I should have one look through the
cabin window. I pulled in handover hand on the cord, and when
I judged myself near enough, roseat infinite risk to about half my height,
and thus commanded the roof and aslice of the interior of the cabin.
By this time, the schooner andher little consort were gliding pretty swiftly
(06:49):
through the water. Indeed, wehad already fetched up level with the camp
fire. The ship was talking,as sailors say, loudly, treading the
measurable ripples with an incessant, welteringsplash. And until I got my eye
above the window, still I couldnot comprehend why the watchman had taken no
(07:10):
alarm. One glance, however,was sufficient, and it was only one
glance that I durst take from thatunsteady skiff. It showed me hands and
his companion locked together in deadly wrestle, each with a hand on the other's
throat. I dropped upon the thwartagain, none too soon, for I
(07:31):
was near overboard. I could seenothing for the moment but these two furious
and crimsoned faces swaying together under thesmoky lamp, and I shut my eyes,
to let them grow once more familiarwith the darkness. The endless ballad
had come to an end at last, and the whole diminished company about the
camp fire had broken into the chorusI had heard so often, fifty men
(07:59):
on the dead man's chest, yooh, and a bottle of rum drink and
a dev love and feather rest yoo. Ram. I was just thinking how
busy drink and the devil were atthat very moment in the cabin of the
(08:20):
Hispaniola, when I was surprised bya sudden lurch of the coracle. At
the same moment, she yawed sharplyand seemed to change her course. The
speed in the meantime had strangely increased. I opened my eyes at once.
All around me were little ripples combingover with a sharp bristling sound and slightly
(08:43):
phosphorescent. The Hispaniola herself, afew yards in whose wake I was still
being whirled along, seemed to staggerin her course, and I saw her
spars toss a little against the blacknessof the night. Nay. As I
looked long, I made sure shealso was wheeling to the southward. I
(09:03):
glanced over my shoulder, and myheart jumped against my ribs. There right
behind me was the glow of thecamp fire. The current had turned at
right angles, sweeping round along withit the tall schooner and the little dancing
coracle. Ever quickening, ever bubblinghigher, ever muttering louder, it went
(09:24):
spinning through the narrows for the opensea. Suddenly the schooner in front of
me gave a violent yaw, turningperhaps through twenty degrees, and almost at
the same moment, one shout followedanother from on board. I could hear
feet pounding on the companion ladder,and I knew that the two drunkards had
(09:45):
at last been interrupted in their quarrel, and awakened to a sense of their
disaster. I laid down flat inthe bottom of that wretched skiff and devoutly
recommended my spirit to its maker.At the end of the straits, I
had made sure we must fall intosome bar of raging breakers, where all
of my troubles would be ended speedily. And though I could perhaps bear to
(10:07):
die, I could not bear tolook upon my fate as it approached.
So I must have lain for hours, continually beaten to and fro upon the
billows. Now and again wetted withflying sprays, and never ceasing to expect
death of the next plunge. Graduallyweariness grew upon me, a numbness.
(10:31):
An occasional stupor fell upon my mind, even in the midst of my terrors,
until sleep at last intervened, andin my sea tossed Coracle, I
lay and dreamed of home and theold Admiral Benbo. End of Chapter twenty
three, Chapter twenty four, TheCruise of the Coracle. It was broad
(10:58):
day when I awoke and found myselftossing at the southwest end of Treasure Island.
The sun was up, but wasstill hid from me behind the great
bulk of the Spyglass, which onthis side descended almost to the sea.
In formidable cliffs, Hall Bowline Headand Mizenmass Hill were at my elbow,
(11:20):
the hill bare and dark, thehead bound with cliffs forty or fifty feet
high and fringed with great masses offallen rock. I was scarcely a quarter
of a mile to seaward, andit was my first thought to paddle in
and land. That notion was soongiven over. Among the fallen rocks,
(11:41):
the breakers spouted and bellowed, loudreverberations, heavy sprays, flying and falling
succeeded one another from second to second, And I saw myself if I ventured
nearer, dashed to death upon therough shore, or spending my strength in
vain to scale the beetling crags.Nor was that all four crawling together on
(12:05):
flat tables of rock, or lettingthemselves drop into the sea with loud reports.
I beheld huge, slimy monsters,soft snails, as it were,
of incredible bigness, two or threescore of them together, making the rocks
to echo with their barkings. Ihave understood since that they were sea lions
(12:28):
and entirely harmless. But the lookof them added to the difficulty of the
shore and the high running of thesurf, and was more than enough to
disgust me of that landing place.I felt willing rather to starve at sea
than to confront such perils. Inthe meantime, I had a better chance,
as I supposed before me. Northof hall Bowling Head, the land
(12:52):
runs in a long way, leavingat low tide a long stretch of yellow
sand. To the north of thatagain there comes another cape, cape of
the woods, as it was markedupon the chart buried in tall green pines
which descended to the margin of thesea. I remembered what Silver had said
about the current that sets northward alongthe whole west coast of Treasure Island,
(13:16):
and seeing from my position that Iwas already under its influence, I preferred
to leave Hall Bowling Head behind meand reserve my strength for an attempt to
land upon the kindlier looking cape ofthe woods. There was a great smooth
swell upon the sea, the windblowing steadily and gentle from the south.
(13:39):
There was no contrarity between that andthe current, and the billows rose and
fell unbroken. Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished.
But as it was, it issurprising how easily and securely my little and
light boat could ride. Often,as I lay still at the bottom and
kept no more than an above thegunwale, I would see a big blue
(14:01):
summit heaving close above me. Yetthe coracle would but bounce a little dance,
as if on springs, and subsideon the other side into the trough
as lightly as a bird. Ibegan, after a little to grow very
bold, and sat up to trymy skill at paddling, But even a
(14:22):
small change in the disposition of theweight will produce violent changes in the behavior
of a coracle. And I hadhardly moved before the boat giving up at
once her gentle dancing movement, ranstraight down a slope of water so steep
that it made me giddy, andstruck her nose with a spout of spray
(14:43):
deep into the side of the nextwave. I was drenched and terrified,
and fell instantly back into my oldposition, whereupon the coracle seemed to find
her head again and led me softlyas before among the billows. It was
plain she was not to be interferedwith, and at any rate, since
(15:05):
I could in no way influence hercourse, what hope had I of reaching
land, I began to be horriblyfrightened, but I kept my head for
all that first, Moving with allcare, I gradually baled out the coracle
with my sea cap. Then,getting my eye once more above the gunwale,
I set myself to study how itwas she managed to slip so quietly
(15:30):
through the rollers. I found eachwave, instead of the big, smooth,
glossy mountain it looks from the shoreor from a vessel's deck, was
for all the world like any rangeof hills on the dry land, full
of peaks and smooth places and valleys. The coracle left to herself, turning
from side to side, threaded soto speak, her way through these lower
(15:54):
parts, and avoided the steep slopesand higher toppling summits of the wave.
Well, now, thought I tomyself. It is plain I must lie
where I am and not disturb thebalance. But it is plain also that
I can put the paddle over theside, and from time to time,
in smooth paces, give her ashove or two towards land. No sooner
(16:18):
thought upon than done. There Ilay on my elbows in the most trying
attitude, and every now and againgave a weak stroke or two to turn
her head to shore. It wasvery tiring and slow work, yet I
did visibly gain ground, and aswe drew near the cape of the woods,
though I saw I must infallibly missthat point, I had still made
(16:42):
some hundred yards of easting. Iwas indeed close in. I could see
the cool green tree tops swaying togetherin the breeze, and I felt sure
I should make the next promontory withoutfail. It was high time for I
now began to be tortured with thirst. The glow of the sun from above,
(17:04):
its thousandfold reflection from the waves,The sea water that fell and dried
upon me, caking my very lipswith salt, combined to make my throat
burn and my brain ache. Thesight of the trees so near at hand
had almost made me sick with logging. But the current had soon carried me
(17:26):
past the point, and as thenext reach of sea opened out, I
beheld a sight that changed the natureof my thoughts. Right in front of
me, not half a mile away, I beheld the Hispaniola under sail.
I made sure, of course,that I should be taken, but I
was so distressed for want of waterthat I scarcely knew whether to be glad
(17:49):
or sorry at the thought. Andlong before I had come to the conclusion,
surprise had taken possession of my mind, and I could do nothing but
stare and wonder. The Hispaniola wasunder her mainsail and two jibs, and
the beautiful white canvas shone in thesun like snow or silver. When I
(18:10):
first sighted her, all her sailswere drawing. She was laying a course
about northwest, and I presumed themen on board were going round the island
on their way back to the anchorage. Presently, she began to fetch more
and more to the westward, sothat I thought they had sighted me and
were going about in chase. Atlast, however, she fell right into
(18:33):
the wind's eye, was taken deadaback, and stood there awhile helpless,
with her sails shivering. Clumsy Fellowssaid, I they must be still drunk
as owls, And I thought howCaptain Smollett would have set them skipping.
Meanwhile, the schooner gradually fell offand filled again upon another tack, sailed
(18:55):
swiftly for a minute or so,and brought up once more dead in the
wind. Again and again this wasrepeated to and fro up and down north,
southeast and west. The Hispaniola sailedby swoops and dashes, and at
each repetition ended as she had begun, with widly flapping canvas. It became
(19:18):
plain to me that nobody was steering, and if so, where were the
men. Either they were dead,drunk, or had deserted her. I
thought, and perhaps if I couldget on board, I might return the
vessel to her captain. The currentwas bearing coracle and schooner southward at an
equal rate as for the latter's sailing. It was so wild and intermittent,
(19:44):
and she hung each time so longin irons that she certainly gained nothing if
she did not even lose. IfI only dared to sit up and paddle,
I made sure that I could overhaulher. The scheme had an air
of adventure that inspired me, andthe thought of the water breaker beside the
fore companion doubled my growing courage.Up I got was welcomed almost instantly by
(20:08):
another cloud of spray, But thistime stuck to my purpose and set myself
with all my strength and caution topaddle after the unsteered hispaniola. Once I
shipped a sea so heavy that Ihad to stop and bale, with my
heart fluttering like a bird. Butgradually I got into the way of the
thing and guided my coracle among thewaves with only now and then a blow
(20:33):
upon her bows and a dash offoam in my face. I was now
gaining rapidly on the schooner. Icould see the brass glisten on the tiller
as it banged about, and stillno soul appeared upon her decks. I
could not choose, But suppose shewas deserted. If not, the men
were lying drunk below, where Imight batten them down perhaps, and do
(20:56):
what I chose with the ship.For some time she had been doing the
worst thing possible for me. Standingstill, she headed nearly due south,
yawing of course all the time.Each time she fell off, her sails
partly filled, and these brought herin a moment right to the wind.
Again. I have said this wasthe worst thing possible for me. For
(21:18):
helpless as she looked in this situation, with the canvas crackling like cannon,
and the blocks trundling and banging onthe deck, she still continued to run
away from me, not only withthe speed of the current, but by
the whole amount of her leeway,which was naturally great. But now at
last I had my chance. Thebreeze fell for some seconds very low,
(21:42):
and the current gradually turning her.The hispaniola revolved slowly around her center,
and at last presented me her stern, with the cabin windows still gaping open
and the lamp over the table stillburning on into the day, the mainntil
hung drooped like a banner. Shewas stock still but for the current.
(22:04):
For the last little while I'd evenlost, but now redoubling my efforts,
I began once more to overhaul thechase. I was not one hundred yards
from her when the wind came againin a clap. She filled on the
port tack and was off again,stooping and skimming like a swallow. My
first impulse was one of despair,but my second was towards joy. Round
(22:29):
she came till she was broadside onto me, round still, till she
had covered a half, and thentwo thirds, and then three quarters of
the distance that separated us. Icould see the waves boiling white under her
forefoot. Immensely tall, she lookedto me from my low station in the
coracle, and then of a suddenI began to comprehend. I had scarce
(22:52):
time to think, scarce time toact and save myself. I was on
the summit of one swell when theschooner came swooping over the next. The
bowsprit was over my head. Isprang on my feet and leapt, stamping
the coracle underwater. With one hand, I caught the jibboom while my foot
(23:12):
was lodged between the stay and thebrace, and as I still clung there,
panting, a dull blow told methat the schooner had charged down upon
and struck the coracle, and thatI was left without retreat on the Hispaniola
end of Chapter twenty four
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