Nearby, down the side of the hill, some gravel fell and rattled through the trees.
My eyes turned instinctively in that direction, and I saw a dark figure quickly leap behind the trunk of a large tree.
I couldn't tell if it was a bear or a monkey, but it seemed large and shaggy.
I was cut off on both sides; behind me were murderers, and in front of me was this lurking animal.
Suddenly, Long John seemed the lesser of two evils, so I turned and, looking over my shoulder, started heading back toward the boats.
Instantly, the figure swiftly moved through the trees, running manlike on two legs yet hunched over.
This creature was unlike any man I'd ever seen, but it was a man.
"Maybe it's a cannibal," I said to myself, and I almost called out to the pirates for help.
But the mere fact he was a man, however wild, reassured me.
"Wait, I have a pistol," I thought. "I'm not defenseless!"
So I walked toward the island man, and as soon as I moved in his direction, he stepped toward me.
He hesitated, but at last, to my wonder and confusion, he threw himself on his knees and held out his clasped hands.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I'm poor Ben Gunn," he said in a voice that was hoarse, like a rusty lock.
"I haven't spoken with a soul for three years."
His skin was all sunburned, his lips were black, and his fair eyes looked bright in his dark face.
His clothing was a tattered ship's canvas and ragged, old cloth fastened together with small sticks and loops of animal hide.
"Were you shipwrecked?" I cried.
"No, mate," he said, "marooned."
I knew what that meant.
Being marooned was a horrible punishment in which a pirate was left behind on a desolate island, with only a little gunpowder and one bullet.
"Marooned three years ago," Gunn went on. "I've lived on goats, berries, and oysters. But my heart craves a civilized diet.
You don't happen to have a piece of cheese? No? Well, many long nights I've dreamed of cheese—toasted, mostly."
"If I ever get aboard again," I said, "you shall have plenty of cheese."
As we talked, he was feeling my jacket, smoothing my hands, and generally showing a childish pleasure in the presence of a fellow creature.
"I'm Jim," I said.
"Jim, Jim," he repeated, quite pleased. "Well, now, Jim, can you believe I once had a devoted mother who looked after me?"
"Not really," I answered.
"I was a polite, churchgoing boy too," Gunn said.
"I've thought about it here on this lonely island, and I've decided to go back to church someday.
I'll be good again. I know how. And Jim"—looking all around him and lowering his voice to a whisper—"I'm rich."
This poor fellow was crazy, I thought.
I must have looked unconvinced, for he repeated, "Rich! Rich! And I'll make you rich too, Jim.
You'll be thankful you found me first!"
Suddenly a shadow came over his face, and Gunn grabbed my arm and raised a forefinger threateningly at me.
"Tell the truth—is that Flint's ship?" he asked.
Right then, I knew I'd found an ally. "It's not Flint's ship! Flint is dead.
But some of Flint's men are aboard, which is bad luck for the rest of us."
"Is there a man . . . with one leg?" he gasped.
"He's the cook and the ringleader."
Gunn was still holding me by the wrist, and he squeezed hard.
"If you were sent by Long John Silver," he whispered, "I'm as good as dead."
I told him the whole story of our voyage and predicament, and when I was done, he patted me on the head.
"You're a good lad, Jim," said Gunn. "You're all in a bad situation.
Well, put your trust in me. Would your squire share Flint's treasure and give me passage home?"
"Yes," I cried. "We all planned to share, and besides, without the pirates, we'll need you to help sail the vessel home."
"Ah," said he, "so you would." And he seemed relieved.
"I was on Flint's ship," he continued, "when he and six men buried the treasure.
The rest of us waited on the old Walrus until Flint returned, alone.
It must have been quite a battle, six against one.
Billy Bones was the first mate, and Long John was quartermaster.
The men on board asked Flint where the treasure was, and he said, 'Go ashore, if you like, and stay there—
but as for the ship, she'll hunt for more, by thunder!' That's what he said."
"How were you marooned?" I asked.
"Well, a few years later, I was on another ship and we sighted this island.
'Boys,' I said, 'Flint's treasure is here. Let's find it.'
For 12 days, we looked but didn't find the treasure, and with each passing day, they got angrier at me.
One morning, they just said, 'Here's a musket, spade, and pickax.
Find Flint's money yourself.' And the ship set sail without me.
So, Jim, I've been here three years, and I haven't had a bite of decent food since."
"We need to get back on board the Hispaniola," I said. "But how?"
"I have a small boat I made," answered Gunn.
"I keep her under the white rock. We can try to get to the ship after dark."
Suddenly the island echoed with cannon thunder, and Gunn and I ran toward the anchorage.
We heard gunshots ring out next, and then, not a quarter of a mile away was a startling sight.
Fluttering above the woods was our country's flag, the Union Jack.