Thirty-two

THE TREASURE HUNT—THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES

When we reached the top of the hill Silver took out his compass and looked again at the map.

"There are three 'tall trees,'" said he, "about in the right line from the small island. It'll be easy to find the treasure now. I'd like to have my dinner first."

"I don't want any food," said Morgan. "Thinking of Flint has set my stomach against food."

"Ah, well, my son, you may praise your stars he's dead," said Silver.

"He was an ugly devil," cried a third pirate; "blue in the face, too!"

"That was how the rum took him," added Merry. "Blue! That's a true word."

Ever since they had found the dead bones and had started thinking of Captain Flint, they had spoken lower and lower, and they had almost got to whispering by now, so that the sound of their talk hardly broke the silence of the woods. All of a sudden, out of the middle of the trees in front of us, a thin, high, shaking voice struck up the well-known words:

Fifteen men on the dead man's chest—

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

I never have seen men more dreadfully moved than the pirates. The colour went from their six faces as if by magic; some leaped to their feet, some caught hold of others; Morgan rolled on the ground.

"It's Flint, by God!" cried Merry.

The song had stopped as suddenly as it began—broken off in the middle of a word, as though someone had laid his hand upon the singer's mouth.

"Come," said Silver, struggling with his white lips to get the word out, "this won't do. This is someone trying to play a trick on us."

His courage had come back as he spoke, and some of the colour to his face along with it. Already the others had begun to believe his words and to feel bolder, when the same voice broke out again—not this time singing, but in a faint distant call.

"Darby M'Graw!" it cried, "Darby M'Graw!" again and again and again; and then rising a little higher, "Fetch the rum, Darby!"

The pirates remained rooted to the ground, their eyes wide with terror. Long after the voice had died away, they still gazed in silence, dreadfully, before them.

"That fixes it!" whispered one. "Let's go."

"Those were his last words," moaned Morgan, "his last words before he died."

Dick had his Bible out and was praying aloud. He had been a good boy once—before he came to sea and fell among bad companions.

Still, Silver was unconquered.

"Nobody in this island ever heard of Darby," he whispered to himself; "no one except us here." And then, gathering up all his courage, "Men," he cried, "I'm here to get that treasure, and I'll not be beaten by man nor devil. I never was afraid of Flint in his life, and, by the powers, I'll face him dead. There's seven hundred thousand pounds not a quarter of a mile from here. When did ever a gentleman of fortune leave that much money, for a drunk old seaman with a blue face—and him dead, too?"

But there was no signs of awakening courage in his followers; rather, indeed, of growing terror at the boldness of his words.

"Silence there, John!" said Merry. "Don't you cross a spirit."

And the rest were all too frightened to reply. They would have run away one by one, had they dared; but fear kept them together, and kept them close by John, as if his daring helped them. He, on his part, had almost fought his weakness down.

"Spirit? Well, it may be," he said. "But there's one thing not clear to me. There was an echo. Now, no man ever saw a spirit with a shadow; well, then, what's he doing with an echo to him, I should like to know? That isn't in nature, surely?"

This reasoning seemed weak enough to me. But, to my wonder, George Merry was greatly moved by it.

"Well, that's so," he said. "You've a head upon your shoulders, John, and no mistake. This crew is on a wrong course, I do believe. And come to think on it, it was like Flint's voice, I grant you, but not so clear. It was more like somebody else's voice now—it was more like—"

"By the powers, Ben Gunn!" roared Silver.

"Ah! so it was," cried Morgan, springing on his knees. "Ben Gunn it was!"

"It doesn't make much difference, does it, now?" asked Dick. "Ben Gunn's not here in the body, any more than Flint."

But the older men laughed at this.

"Why, nobody cares about Ben Gunn," cried Merry; "dead or alive, nobody takes any notice of him."

It was wonderful how their spirits had returned, and how the natural colour had come back to their faces. Soon they were talking together, with pauses to listen; and not long after, hearing no further sound, they set forth again, Merry walking first with Silver's compass to keep them on the right line. He had said the truth; dead or alive, nobody cared about Ben Gunn.

Dick alone still held his Bible, and looked around him as he went, with fearful eyes; but no one took any notice of him, and Silver even laughed at him.

"I told you," said he—"I told you, you had cut your Bible and now it's no protection to you against spirits."

But Dick was not to be comforted; indeed, it was soon plain to me that the lad was falling sick: hastened by heat and the shock of his alarm, his illness was growing swiftly worse.

The first of the tall trees was reached, and by the compass proved the wrong one. So with the second. The third rose nearly two hundred feet into the air. It might be seen far to sea both on the east and west.

Silver hurried on; I could hear his heavy breathing; he cursed like a madman when flies settled on his hot and shining face. He pulled angrily at the rope which held me to him, and from time to time turned his eyes on me with a fearful look.

Certainly Silver took no care to hide his thoughts; and certainly I read them like print. In the immediate nearness of the gold, all else had been forgotten; his promise and the doctor's warning were both things of the past; and I could not doubt that he hoped to seize upon the treasure, find and get on board the Hispaniola under cover of night, cut every honest throat on that island, and sail away as he had at first intended, covered with riches—and blood.

We now drew near to the hiding-place of the treasure.

"Come on, all together," shouted Merry; and the leader broke into a run.

And suddenly, not ten yards farther, we beheld them stop. A low cry arose. Silver rushed on faster, and next moment he and I had come also to a dead stop.

Before us was a great hole, not very new, for the sides had fallen in and grass had grown on the bottom. In this were a broken axe and several pieces of board scattered about. On one of these I saw, burnt with a hot iron, the name Walrus—the name of Flint's ship.

All was clear enough. The place had been found, and the treasure taken away: the seven hundred thousand pounds were gone!