AMPLE SHARE OF THE TREASURE

Chapter 11

Seven hundred thousand pounds of treasure gone! The men stood as though struck.
Silver recovered instantly. He kept his head, and began to make plans.
“Jim,” he whispered, “take that, and standby for trouble.” He passed me a double-barrelled pistol. I clung to it, beginning to tremble.
The buccaneers, with oaths and cries, began to leap, one after the other, into the pit and dig with their fingers. Throwing the boards aside as they dug, Morgan found a piece of gold.
Realizing that was all that was left of the treasure the men began to scramble out of the pit. Silver and I on one side and five on the other. Silver never moved. He was brave, and no mistake.
“Mates,” called Merry, “there’s two of them alone there. One’s that cripple that brought us all here, and the other’s that cub that I mean to have the heart of, myself.”
He was raising his arm and his voice, and plainly meant to charge. But just then, crack—crack—crack! Three musket-shots flashed out of the thicket. Merry tumbled head-first into the pit. Another man fell in on top of him. The other three turned and ran for it with all their might.
At the same moment, the doctor, Gray and Ben Gunn joined us, with smoking muskets, from among the nutmeg trees.
“Forward,” called the doctor, “head them off the boats. Double quick!”
I tell you, but Silver was anxious to keep up with us. The work that man went through, leaping on his crutch until the muscles of his chest were fit to burst.
“Doctor,” he hailed, “see there’s no hurry.”
Sure enough there was no hurry. We could see the three survivors still running in the same direction as they had started. We were between them and the boats. We four sat down to breathe, while Long John, mopping his face, came up with us.
“Thank you kindly, doctor,” said he. “You came in the nick of time, for me and Hawkins. And so it’s you Ben’ Gunn!” he added.
“I’m Ben Gunn, I am,” replied the old man. “How do you do, Mr. Silver?”
“Ben, Ben,” murmured Silver, “it’s you!”
The doctor began the story of what had really taken place. Ben Gunn was the real hero.
Ben, in his long, lonely wanderings about the island, had found the skeleton. He had taken the knife and found the treasure. He had dug it up and carried it on his back, in many weary journeys, from the foot of the tall pine to a cave he had on the northeast angle of the island. There it had lain stored in safety since two months before the arrival of the Hispaniola.
When the doctor had wormed this secret from Ben, on the afternoon of the attack, he had made a quick change of plans. The next morning when he saw the ship gone, he had come to Silver and given him the chart, which was useless. He also gave him the stores, for Ben Gunn’s cave was well supplied with goats’ meat salted by Ben himself. The doctor wanted everything moved away from that hill, which he knew to be a bog of malaria.
We reached the gigs and the doctor, with the pickaxe, demolished one of them, and we all got in the other and set out for the North Inlet.
This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost dead from fatigue, set to an oar, like the rest of us.
As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black mouth of Ben Gunn’s cave. A figure stood by it, leaning on a musket. It was the squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any.
Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should we see but the Hispaniola, cruising by herself. Another anchor was made ready, and dropped in a fathom and a half of water. We pulled around again to Rum Cove, the nearest point to Ben Gunn’s treasure house. Gray returned to the Hispaniola to pass the night on guard, though he would like to have stayed with us.

We all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The floor was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain Smollett, and in a far corner I saw great heaps of money and a square construction built of bars of gold. That was Flint’s treasure that we had come so far to seek, and that had cost already the lives of seventeen men from the Hispaniola. How many it had cost in the gathering, what blood and sorrow, what good ships went down in the deep and how many brave men walked the plank, perhaps no man could tell. Yet, there were still three upon that island, Silver, old Morgan, and Ben Gunn, who had each taken his share in these crimes, as each had hoped in vain to share in the reward.

“Hello Jim,” said the captain, “You’re a good boy in your way, Jim, but I don’t think I’ll take you to sea with me again. You’re too much of a born favourite for me.”
What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends around me. What a meal it was! Ben Gunn’s salted goat, and some delicacies, and a bottle of old wine from the Hispaniola. Never, I’m sure people were gayer or happier. There sat Silver, sitting back almost out of the firelight, but eating heartily, and joining quietly in our laughter. He was the same man, now, as when we set sails months ago.
The next morning we went right to work, transporting the great mass of gold nearly a mile by land, and three miles by boat to the Hispaniola. The three men still on the island did not greatly trouble us. A single sentry stood guard and we were not too worried for we thought they had had their fill of fighting. Gray and Ben Gunn came and went with the boat, while the rest piled treasure on the beach. I was kept busy all day, packing the minted money into bread-bags.
It was a strange collection, but so much larger and so much more varied that I think I never did have more joy than in sorting it. There were English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas. I saw the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the last hundred years on the various coins. There were strange Oriental pieces stamped with what looked like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web. There were round pieces and square pieces. Some had holes bored through the middle, as if to wear them around your neck. There must have been some money from all the kinds in the world, for my back ached from stooping and sorting them out.
Day after day this work went on. By each evening a fortune had been stowed aboard the ship. Everyone worked hard.
There was always another fortune waiting for the next day. All this time, we did not hear or see anything of the three surviving mutineers.

On the third night the doctor and I were out strolling on the shoulder of the hill, when out of the darkness below, came great shrieking and singing. It came with the wind and we weren’t sure just what we heard.
“Heaven help them,” said the doctor, “it must be the mutineers.”
“All drunk, sir,” said Silver, from behind us.
“Drunk or raving with fever,” said the doctor.
“Right you may be,” added Silver.
“If I could be sure it was raving, with the fever, I’d go down there,” returned the doctor.
“You would lose your precious life,” said Silver, “You may be sure of that.”
“Silver, you are hardly a humane man, but in this I’m afraid you are right,” said the doctor.
That was about the last news of the pirates. A council was held, and it was decided they must be left on the island. Ben Gunn was delighted! We left them a good stock of powder and shot, the bulk of the salt goat, and a few medicines. Also, all of the tools we could spare.
That was about the last thing we did on the island. Even as we left the pirates could be heard appealing to us for mercy.
Before noon, to my great joy, the highest rock of Treasure Island had sunk into the blue sea. I felt somewhat relieved.
We laid her head for the nearest port in Spanish America because we needed to have new men.

It was just at sundown when we cast anchor in a most beautiful landlocked gulf. We were surrounded at once by boats full of Negroes and Mexican Indians, all selling fresh fruits and vegetables. It was all a beautiful sight to me.
Ben Gunn was on deck alone and suddenly he began to tell us that Silver was gone! He had not left empty handed. He had helped himself to a bag of coins. We were all glad to be so easily rid of him. He had money now for further wanderings.
We got a few hands on board, and made a good cruise home. The Hispaniola reached Bristol just as we had been given up for lost. Only five men of those who had sailed returned with her.
All of us had an ample share of the treasure. Some used it wisely or foolishly, according to our natures. Captain Smollett is now retired. Gray not only saved his money, but is now a mate and part owner of a fine full rigged ship, married and the father of a family. Ben Gunu, spent or lost his treasure in nineteen days and is back begging.
Of Silver we have heard no more. Perhaps he lives in comfort. Who knows?
Some of Flint’s treasure is still there. As for me it can remain buried forever. The worst dreams I ever have are when I wake up to the sharp voice of Captain Flint, ringing in my ears: “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”

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