I was happy I'd managed to get away from Long John, so I began to enjoy exploring this strange island.
I crossed a marshy area full of willows, cattails, and odd swamp trees and came out near an open piece of rolling, sandy land.
It was about a mile long and dotted with pines, with a great number of twisted trees, similar to oaks but with paler leaves.
On the far side of this open area was one of the hills, showing two rocky peaks that shone vividly in the sun.
As I was gazing at some unfamiliar flowers,
a snake suddenly raised its head from a nearby rock and hissed at me with a noise that sounded like the spinning of a top.
"I wonder if that snake is poisonous," I thought, backing away.
Later, I would find out that it certainly was and the sound was its rattle.
Eventually, I came to a long thicket of the twisted, oaklike trees, which grew low along the sand like rambling bushes.
This thicket stretched down from the top of one of the hills and grew taller until it reached the edge of the wide wetland.
There, a river made its way to the anchorage, and as the marsh steamed in the strong sun, the outline of Spyglass Hill trembled through the haze.
"What a strange island," I said to myself.
Suddenly a wild duck flew up with a quack, and then another followed.
Soon a great cloud of birds scattered, screaming and circling in the air.
"Some of my shipmates must be near," I thought, and I soon heard the distant, low tones of a human voice, and then another voice.
They were growing louder.
Scared, I crawled under cover of the nearest bush, moments before the speakers paused and, I supposed, sat down.
The birds grew quiet and settled again to their places in the swamp.
I crawled steadily but slowly on all fours toward the speakers until, at last, I raised my head.
I could see between the trees all the way down into a little green clearing beside the marsh.
Long John Silver stood there with the sun beating down on him, conversing with another man.
"Tim Cooper," he said, "it's because I like you that I'm warning you. Join us!"
Tim's face was red and he spoke in a hoarse, shaky voice.
"Silver," he replied, "you have a good reputation—and money too, which lots of sailors don't.
So why are you going along with those swabs? I'd sooner die than turn against my captain."
"An honest man!" I thought.
Then suddenly, from far out in the marsh, a cry of anger rang out.
Could that be another man who didn't want to join the pirates?
The cry, however, was followed by a long, horrible scream, and the boom of a gunshot.
The sound echoed against the rocks of Spyglass Hill.
The whole marsh of birds rose again, darkening the sky.
Then the air became silent except for the rustle of the birds.
Tim jumped at the sound, but Long John didn't even blink.
He stood where he was, resting lightly on his crutch, looking like a snake about to strike.
"John!" Tim said, stretching out his hand. "Please, don't do this."
"Don't touch me!" roared Long John, leaping back with the speed of a trained gymnast.
"All right, I won't touch you," Tim said. "But just tell me, what was all that screaming?"
"That?" said Long John, smiling but warier than ever, his eyes like glass. "Oh, I reckon that was Alan Jenkins."
"Alan!" cried Tim. "Rest his soul, he was a true seaman!
As for you, Long John Silver, you're no mate of mine.
If I die like a dog, I'll die doing the right thing.
You've killed Alan, have you? Kill me too, if you can, but I won't join you."
Then the brave fellow turned his back and started walking toward the beach, but he did not go far.
With a cry, Long John seized a broken tree branch to steady himself and then hurled his crutch like a missile at poor Tim Cooper's back.
It struck him—point first—with stunning violence, right between the shoulders.
Tim's hands flew up, and he gave a sort of gasp and fell.
Long John, agile as a monkey even without a leg or crutch, was on him in a moment and stabbed Tim hard in the back twice with his knife.
I could hear Long John panting as he struck the blows and I must have fainted, because the whole world swam away from me in a whirling mist.
Long John, the birds, and the tall Spyglass hilltop spun around and around.
When I recovered, the monster had his crutch under his arm and his hat on his head.
The murderer wiped his bloodstained knife on a tall wisp of grass beside Tim's motionless body.
I couldn't believe I'd just witnessed a human life cruelly cut short.
Then Long John blew a whistle, and several blasts rang far across the heated air.
I was afraid, knowing more men would come at his signal.
"I've got to get out of here," I thought. "Two honest men are dead—I might be next."
Immediately, I crawled back to the thicket with all the speed and silence I could manage, while Long John and his men shouted to one another.
As soon as I got to the trees, I ran as I'd never run before.
I didn't care which way I went, so long as it was away from the murderers.
After a long while, I neared the foot of the little hill with the two rocky peaks,
and here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill with a thumping heart.