When I came on deck the next morning, the island looked entirely different, a bit colorless and sad.
The trees, which covered most of the surface, looked gray, with only streaks of yellow beach sand breaking up the dreariness.
The three hills were oddly shaped spires of naked rock above the tall, dark pines and low trees.
The Spyglass towered about four hundred feet above everything else, with sheer stone sides and a top that seemed flat enough to be a statue's pedestal.
There was no wind, so we were stopped in the ocean, about half a mile from the coast.
Water rolled across the Hispaniola's deck from the rough waves,
and as the rudder banged to and fro, the whole ship creaked and groaned like some kind of factory.
Though I was a decent sailor when we were moving forward, being rolled about on deck like a bottle in the muggy heat made me seasick.
From the first look, I hated the very thought of Treasure Island.
"We'll have a miserable morning's work," Job told me.
"We have to tow the ship with ropes for three miles to the haven behind Skeleton Island."
"I'll help," I volunteered.
Job commanded my boat. Instead of keeping the crew calm, he grumbled the loudest.
"Well, this misery won't last forever," he said, then spat.
I thought his behavior was a very bad sign.
Up until now, the men had worked willingly, but once we sighted the island, they lost all discipline.
While we towed the ship, Long John gave directions to the steersman, because he knew the area well.
"Move quickly through here with the tide," he said.
"The sea bottom is deep enough here to let a ship pass through easily."
We dropped anchor at the spot where someone had drawn an anchor on the chart,
about a third of a mile from each shore—the main island on one side and Skeleton Island on the other.
The stagnant smell of sodden leaves and rotting tree trunks hung over everything.
"I don't know about treasure," the doctor said to the squire and the captain as he sniffed the air, "but I'll bet there's fever here."
"Coil the ropes," the captain ordered as the men scrambled back on deck.
The men gave him hostile looks and angrily obeyed.
"Resentment is spreading to the honest men too," the doctor observed. "The entire crew is surly."
"Mutiny hangs over us like a thundercloud," the squire whispered back.
Long John, aware of the discontent, forced a smile onto his face and kept it there.
He went about the ship setting a good example for the men, encouraging them to behave like real sailors.
When the captain gave an order, Long John quickly got up with the cheeriest "Aye, aye, sir!"
Later, when there was nothing else to do, he sang one song after another, as if to conceal the discontent of the men.
"Silver's nervousness is the worst omen of the day," the doctor said.
We met in the cabin together with Trelawney's men—Redruth, Hunter, and Joyce—who now knew about the pirate's plans.
Smollett told us, "If I give the men another order, the whole ship will revolt.
We've only one man to rely on now."
"Who?" the squire asked.
"Silver," the captain said. "He's as anxious as we are to keep this situation from exploding, because the time isn't right.
Let's allow the men an afternoon ashore, and if they all go, we'll control the ship.
If none go, we'll hold the cabin. If some go, you mark my words, sir, Silver will bring them aboard again as mild as lambs."
Captain Smollett gave all the loyal men pistols, and then went on deck to address the crew.
"My lads," he said, "it's hot, and we're all tired.
Some time ashore will hurt nobody, and since the boats are still in the water, take them and go ashore for the afternoon.
I'll fire a gun half an hour before sundown as a signal to return."
"Hooray!" they cheered, their bad mood vanishing.
"The silly fellows must think they'll trip over treasure as soon as they land," the squire muttered.
Then Smollett quickly went below, leaving Long John to arrange who would go ashore.
If the captain had remained on deck, he could no longer have pretended not to understand the situation,
because it was plain that Long John was their real captain.
At last, Long John decided six fellows would stay on board; he and the rest would leave the ship.
Right then, a crazy notion, perhaps the one that saved us, came into my head.
If six pirates were left, I knew our party could not take over the ship.
But since there were only six, the cabin party had no need of my assistance, so I decided to go ashore.
Quickly, I slipped over the side, curled up under the canvas on the nearest boat, then shoved off.
No one took notice of me except Alan Jenkins, who said, "Is that you, Jim? Keep your head down."
Long John looked sharply over from the other boat. "Is Jim going ashore too?"
From that moment, I began to regret what I had done.
The shore boats raced for the beach, but the boat I was in, having started first and being lighter and better manned, shot far ahead.
Once the boat neared the trees along the shore, I caught an overhanging branch, swung myself out, and plunged into the nearest thicket.
Long John and the rest were still a hundred yards behind.
"Jim, Jim!" I heard him shouting.
But I paid no heed. Jumping and ducking, I followed my nose and ran until I could run no longer.