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The First Blow
I WAS so pleased at having given the slip to Long John that I began to
enjoy myself and look around me with some interest on the strange land
that I was in.
I had crossed a marshy tract full of willows, bulrushes, and odd,
outlandish, swampy trees; and I had now come out upon the skirts of an
open piece of undulating, sandy country, about a mile long, dotted with a
few pines and a great number of contorted trees, not unlike the oak in
growth, but pale in the foliage, like willows. On the far side of the open
stood one of the hills, with two quaint, craggy peaks shining vividly in
I now felt for the first time the joy of exploration. The isle was
uninhabited; my shipmates I had left behind, and nothing lived in front of
me but dumb brutes and fowls. I turned hither and thither among the trees.
Here and there were flowering plants, unknown to me; here and there I saw
snakes, and one raised his head from a ledge of rock and hissed at me with
a noise not unlike the spinning of a top. Little did I suppose that he was
a deadly enemy and that the noise was the famous rattle.
Then I came to a long thicket of these oaklike trees—live, or
evergreen, oaks, I heard afterwards they should be called—which grew
low along the sand like brambles, the boughs curiously twisted, the
foliage compact, like thatch. The thicket stretched down from the top of
one of the sandy knolls, spreading and growing taller as it went, until it
reached the margin of the broad, reedy fen, through which the nearest of
the little rivers soaked its way into the anchorage. The marsh was
steaming in the strong sun, and the outline of the Spy-glass trembled
through the haze.
All at once there began to go a sort of bustle among the bulrushes; a wild
duck flew up with a quack, another followed, and soon over the whole
surface of the marsh a great cloud of birds hung screaming and circling in
the air. I judged at once that some of my shipmates must be drawing near
along the borders of the fen. Nor was I deceived, for soon I heard the
very distant and low tones of a human voice, which, as I continued to give
ear, grew steadily louder and nearer.
This put me in a great fear, and I crawled under cover of the nearest
live-oak and squatted there, hearkening, as silent as a mouse.
Another voice answered, and then the first voice, which I now recognized
to be Silver's, once more took up the story and ran on for a long while in
a stream, only now and again interrupted by the other. By the sound they
must have been talking earnestly, and almost fiercely; but no distinct
word came to my hearing.
At last the speakers seemed to have paused and perhaps to have sat down,
for not only did they cease to draw any nearer, but the birds themselves
began to grow more quiet and to settle again to their places in the swamp.
And now I began to feel that I was neglecting my business, that since I
had been so foolhardy as to come ashore with these desperadoes, the least
I could do was to overhear them at their councils, and that my plain and
obvious duty was to draw as close as I could manage, under the favourable
ambush of the crouching trees.
I could tell the direction of the speakers pretty exactly, not only by the
sound of their voices but by the behaviour of the few birds that still
hung in alarm above the heads of the intruders.
Crawling on all fours, I made steadily but slowly towards them, till at
last, raising my head to an aperture among the leaves, I could see clear
down into a little green dell beside the marsh, and closely set about with
trees, where Long John Silver and another of the crew stood face to face
The sun beat full upon them. Silver had thrown his hat beside him on the
ground, and his great, smooth, blond face, all shining with heat, was
lifted to the other man's in a kind of appeal.
"Mate," he was saying, "it's because I thinks gold dust of you—gold
dust, and you may lay to that! If I hadn't took to you like pitch, do you
think I'd have been here a-warning of you? All's up—you can't make
nor mend; it's to save your neck that I'm a-speaking, and if one of the
wild uns knew it, where'd I be, Tom—now, tell me, where'd I be?"
"Silver," said the other man—and I observed he was not only red in
the face, but spoke as hoarse as a crow, and his voice shook too, like a
taut rope—"Silver," says he, "you're old, and you're honest, or has
the name for it; and you've money too, which lots of poor sailors hasn't;
and you're brave, or I'm mistook. And will you tell me you'll let yourself
be led away with that kind of a mess of swabs? Not you! As sure as God
sees me, I'd sooner lose my hand. If I turn agin my dooty—"
And then all of a sudden he was interrupted by a noise. I had found one of
the honest hands—well, here, at that same moment, came news of
another. Far away out in the marsh there arose, all of a sudden, a sound
like the cry of anger, then another on the back of it; and then one
horrid, long-drawn scream. The rocks of the Spy-glass re-echoed it a score
of times; the whole troop of marsh-birds rose again, darkening heaven,
with a simultaneous whirr; and long after that death yell was still
ringing in my brain, silence had re-established its empire, and only the
rustle of the redescending birds and the boom of the distant surges
disturbed the languor of the afternoon.
Tom had leaped at the sound, like a horse at the spur, but Silver had not
winked an eye. He stood where he was, resting lightly on his crutch,
watching his companion like a snake about to spring.
"John!" said the sailor, stretching out his hand.
"Hands off!" cried Silver, leaping back a yard, as it seemed to me, with
the speed and security of a trained gymnast.
"Hands off, if you like, John Silver," said the other. "It's a black
conscience that can make you feared of me. But in heaven's name, tell me,
what was that?"
"That?" returned Silver, smiling away, but warier than ever, his eye a
mere pin-point in his big face, but gleaming like a crumb of glass. "That?
Oh, I reckon that'll be Alan."
And at this point Tom flashed out like a hero.
"Alan!" he cried. "Then rest his soul for a true seaman! And as for you,
John Silver, long you've been a mate of mine, but you're mate of mine no
more. If I die like a dog, I'll die in my dooty. You've killed Alan, have
you? Kill me too, if you can. But I defies you."
And with that, this brave fellow turned his back directly on the cook and
set off walking for the beach. But he was not destined to go far. With a
cry John seized the branch of a tree, whipped the crutch out of his
armpit, and sent that uncouth missile hurtling through the air. It struck
poor Tom, point foremost, and with stunning violence, right between the
shoulders in the middle of his back. His hands flew up, he gave a sort of
gasp, and fell.
Whether he were injured much or little, none could ever tell. Like enough,
to judge from the sound, his back was broken on the spot. But he had no
time given him to recover. Silver, agile as a monkey even without leg or
crutch, was on the top of him next moment and had twice buried his knife
up to the hilt in that defenceless body. From my place of ambush, I could
hear him pant aloud as he struck the blows.
I do not know what it rightly is to faint, but I do know that for the next
little while the whole world swam away from before me in a whirling mist;
Silver and the birds, and the tall Spy-glass hilltop, going round and
round and topsy-turvy before my eyes, and all manner of bells ringing and
distant voices shouting in my ear.
When I came again to myself the monster had pulled himself together, his
crutch under his arm, his hat upon his head. Just before him Tom lay
motionless upon the sward; but the murderer minded him not a whit,
cleansing his blood-stained knife the while upon a wisp of grass.
Everything else was unchanged, the sun still shining mercilessly on the
steaming marsh and the tall pinnacle of the mountain, and I could scarce
persuade myself that murder had been actually done and a human life
cruelly cut short a moment since before my eyes.
But now John put his hand into his pocket, brought out a whistle, and blew
upon it several modulated blasts that rang far across the heated air. I
could not tell, of course, the meaning of the signal, but it instantly
awoke my fears. More men would be coming. I might be discovered. They had
already slain two of the honest people; after Tom and Alan, might not I
Instantly I began to extricate myself and crawl back again, with what
speed and silence I could manage, to the more open portion of the wood. As
I did so, I could hear hails coming and going between the old buccaneer
and his comrades, and this sound of danger lent me wings. As soon as I was
clear of the thicket, I ran as I never ran before, scarce minding the
direction of my flight, so long as it led me from the murderers; and as I
ran, fear grew and grew upon me until it turned into a kind of frenzy.
Indeed, could anyone be more entirely lost than I? When the gun fired, how
should I dare to go down to the boats among those fiends, still smoking
from their crime? Would not the first of them who saw me wring my neck
like a snipe's? Would not my absence itself be an evidence to them of my
alarm, and therefore of my fatal knowledge? It was all over, I thought.
Good-bye to the HISPANIOLA; good-bye to the squire, the doctor, and the
captain! There was nothing left for me but death by starvation or death by
the hands of the mutineers.
All this while, as I say, I was still running, and without taking any
notice, I had drawn near to the foot of the little hill with the two peaks
and had got into a part of the island where the live-oaks grew more widely
apart and seemed more like forest trees in their bearing and dimensions.
Mingled with these were a few scattered pines, some fifty, some nearer
seventy, feet high. The air too smelt more freshly than down beside the
And here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill with a thumping heart.