by Tony Abbott
The beach below us was a curving strip of white sand between jagged piles of rock. And just beyond was the ocean, turquoise near shore and green farther out, sending wave after wave crashing onto the sand.
I was just going to say something about how it looked like a travel brochure, when someone shouted.
“Silver! Everybody! Up here! Quickly!”
One of the pirates was jumping up and down and shouting at everyone to hurry.
“Arrh, he can’t have found the treasure yet!” growled Silver, hopping over as fast as he could.
We soon saw what the fuss was about.
At the foot of a pretty big pine tree was a human skeleton. It had obviously been there for years. There were only a few shreds of clothes left on it. Everyone stood staring at it and shivering.
“This is good sea cloth on him,” said the pirate named George Merry, who didn’t seem to mind getting close, pinching the shredded fabric. “He was a sailor.”
Silver snorted. “Arrh, after all, you wouldn’t look to find a bishop here! It’s one of Flint’s dead men.”
It was then that I noticed something odd. The bones were perfectly straight, the feet pointing in one direction, the hands raised above the head as if the man were diving off a diving board.
“What sort of a way is that for bones to be?” I asked. “It doesn’t look too natural.”
Jim nodded. “It’s almost as if someone—”
Frankie gasped. “Someone put him like that. He’s pointing. He’s pointing to the treasure!”
For the next few moments, no one said anything.
And for the first time, I think, the idea that there actually was treasure finally became real.
Silver, making one of those smirky smiles of his, made a sighting with his telescope in the direction that the skeleton was pointing.
He gave out his usual word. “Arrh. The body points straight at one of them trees up there. This is a joke of old Captain Flint himself!”
“He must have been one funny guy,” I said.
“Let’s follow the dead man’s fingers!” said Silver.
We started off up the hill again. But even though we kept heading upward, nobody was running. The terror of the dead buccaneer had scared us all out of our wits.
“I can feel old Captain Flint,” whispered Morgan, glancing about him at the woods. “I fear him, too.”
“He be dead,” said another. “Everyone says so.”
“That’s what bothers me,” said a third. “That he’s dead and yet he’s here. Only a ghost can do both—”
At that moment, out of the middle of a clump of trees in front of us, came a thin, high trembling voice.
“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest!
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”
The song stopped as suddenly as it began.
Well, if you think I freaked out (and you’d be right), you should have seen the pirates. The color drained from their faces, some leaped up, pointing their cutlasses at the trees, others huddled down, hiding their heads.
“It’s Flint’s ghost!” cried Merry.
Shaking in his boot, Silver snarled, “Come now, this be nonsense! It’s no ghost, I tell you, but some real man, playing tricks on us. Besides, I’m here to get that stuff, and I’ll not be beat by man or ghost! There’s seven hundred thousand pounds of treasure, a quarter-mile from here! To the treasure, I say!”
Roused by their captain, the pirates shook off some of their fear and tramped up the wooded hill.
When we got to the first tree, it was clear that there was no treasure buried there. So we trucked up to the second. Same story. It just didn’t match the directions on the map. But from its trunk we could see the third and tallest of the three trees.
“It must rise two hundred feet in the air,” said Jim.
But as we raced toward the giant thing, it wasn’t the size that had everybody loving that tree. It was that under it could be buried the biggest treasure anyone had ever seen. If my math was right, it was easily worth several million dollars. As much money as that is now, back in those days, it was an unbelievable fortune. It could make you the richest person in the world!
Treasure! Unbelievable treasure!
Riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams!
Even Silver hobbled faster on his crutch, huffing and grunting. His nostrils quivered as he struggled to get to the spot as fast as the others. Despite ourselves, Frankie and I felt sorry for the guy and helped him over a broken tree trunk.
“Arrh, arrh,” he mumbled, then hobbled off even faster. The look on his face said only one thing—treasure!
I nudged Frankie and Jim and we lagged behind the others. “Look in Silver’s eyes,” I said. “He’s totally forgotten all that good stuff about trying to save us. There’s no deal anymore. He’ll get to the money, find the ship, and—kkk!—kill us all. Just like he said he would.”
Frankie nodded, knowing it was true. “Flint killed his six mates. Silver could do that, too. He’s got two pistols and that cutlass, and he’s pretty good with all of them!”
“Not to mention that crutch,” Jim added.
“Hurry, now! The treasure’s in sight!” Morgan shouted, and everybody now broke into a fast run.
We rushed and stumbled over the floor of the forest straight to that tree. Then, not ten feet away from the trunk, everyone stopped.
A low cry arose. “No … no … noooooo!”
“Move aside, move aside!” Silver whacked his way through the stunned crowd. Then he, too, froze in his tracks. Well, in his track.
He stared, red-faced, at the ground.
What stood before us was a great hole dug out of the earth. It wasn’t new, for the sides had fallen in, and grass was sprouting from the bottom. In the hole were the remains of a pick and a shovel and a few rotten boards. One of the boards had a name branded on the side: Walrus.
It was the name of Captain Flint’s old ship.
“Treasure? Treasure?” cried the parrot.
Nope, no treasure.
The entire fortune—seven hundred thousand pounds of loot—was gone!
Chapter 18
Even as the pirates’ faces turned from hope to shock and anger, Long John Silver was forming a new plan.
Step by step he edged around to the far side of the hole, so that it was between him and the angry pirates. Giving a short tug on the rope, he brought Jim, Frankie, and me with him. Then he slipped a pistol from his belt.
“Jim,” he whispered, “take this.”
Jim blinked. “You’re changing sides … again?”
“Arrh,” was the whispered reply.
Even facing all those angry and well-armed buccaneers, I almost laughed. Long John Silver was always looking out for number one. For that, I almost liked him again. I mean, I couldn’t trust the guy for a second, but you had to admire how he always had a plan, always kept going, always adapted to each new situation he found himself in, so that he’d come out on top.
“Nooooo!” howled one of the buccaneers.
One after another, they began crying out and cursing and leaping into the pit, digging madly at the dirt with their fingers. Morgan found a tiny coin worth nearly nothing, but that only seemed to make it worse.
“What? What!” he cried, holding the coin up at Silver. “This is all that’s left of your treasure! You’ve bungled everything! You probably knew it all along, didn’t you? I see it in your old wrinkled face!”
“Ah, now don’t jump to conclusions, mates—”
“That’s right,” said Frankie. “Let’s think about this, and maybe we can work out a deal—”
“I’ll deal you on my cutlass!” growled another pirate.
In a flash, the buccaneers scrambled out of the hole.
George Merry swished his cutlass at us. “Mates,” he said to his pirate pals, “there’s a cabin boy, two dimwits, and a one-legged old sea cook. We are the fiercest pirates ever to sail the seas. Who’s going to win? I say we attack t
hem now! Come, mates!”
I pulled out the book. “Frankie, I think we need to do some serious page flipping. Prepare for lightning, everyone—”
But I didn’t have to flip. Because an instant later—crack! crack! crack!—three musket shots flashed out of the woods behind us.
Two of the pirates tumbled into the pit, howling and clutching their arms. The others turned and ran for it with all their might.
The leaves crashed open and out popped Dr. Livesey, the squire, the limping captain, and none other than Ben Gunn himself!
“Yahoo!” I cried. “We’re saved! Group hug!”
But the doctor wasn’t into it. “Forward! Head off the pirates! They’ll try to escape on the Hispaniola’s rowboats!” At his command, the band of rescuers set off quickly down the hill.
Of course, we followed them. Even Long John Silver hopped and tripped and hobbled after us, trying to keep up. He did a great job, too.
But after a short chase, it was clear that the buccaneers weren’t after the boats. They just wanted to hide.
Finally, Dr. Livesey slowed down. “No hurry. We’ll find them soon enough.”
“All right, then,” added Captain Smollett. “Let’s get to the ship right away. Jim, Devin, Frankie, you know the way?”
“We do, sir,” said Jim.
“Then lead on!”
We did just that. On our way there, Long John sidled up to the skinny figure of Ben Gunn. He chuckled to see the small man. “Ah, so it is you, after all, Ben Gunn! I thought it was your voice singing in the woods. Well, well, after so many years!”
“Aye, John, it’s Ben Gunn in the flesh,” the leafy wild man squeaked. “Do you have any cheese, perhaps?”
Silver shook his head. “No cheese, my little friend, no treasure, and still no leg. I’m a broken man, I am.”
It was actually sad to see Silver now. The first time we saw him, gathering the pirates together to get this treasure, he was in total command. Now, it was all over for him. It was like the fall of a great big statue. It was sad.
Ben Gunn was cheery, though. He didn’t seem afraid of Silver anymore. He was the hero of his own story, and he told us every word of it.
“In my lonely wanderings about the island, I found the skeleton,” Ben chirped. “Following it, I discovered Flint’s buried treasure and dug it up. Oh, in many weary journeys I carried the heaviness of it on my back to my secret cave. There it has been for many a month, safe and sound!”
Frankie smiled. “So that’s why the doctor gave away the map. You told him the treasure wasn’t there.”
“Right!” chirped Ben.
Dr. Livesey laughed. “That day I went to see Ben Gunn, he told me that the treasure was no longer under the tree. Not telling Silver this, I used the map to make a deal with Silver to get our men free and away from the stockade, which the pirates threatened to burn down.”
“Arrh, this treasure was my downfall,” said Silver.
Only a few miles away, the Hispaniola was still in the inlet where Frankie, Jim, and I had left it. When we got to the ship, the tide had floated it up off the beach and, with the captain at the helm again, we had an easy time sailing it to Ben Gunn’s treasure cave.
A half hour later, we were staring into the black mouth of the little guy’s hideout. In a far corner, glinting in the light of our torches, were great heaps of coin and stacks of gold bars. Chests overflowed with jewelry and silver. It was the hugest treasure you could ever imagine.
“And I haven’t spent a single cent of it,” said Ben with a chuckle.
Frankie, Jim, and I trembled, just looking at it.
When Long John Silver beheld the treasure, his eyes blazed with greed. “The immense fortune! How it makes me weep!”
“How many men have died over this treasure?” Captain Smollett asked. “I’ll tell you—too many!”
“Still, it’s pretty awesome,” I said. “I wish we could take some home with us. I could buy a lot of CDs with that. And a lot of books for Mrs. Figglehopper.”
Frankie just stood there, shaking her head. “Sorry, Devin. As nice as that is, there’s only one thing we can take back with us. And we still haven’t found it—”
“Found it! Found it!”
I turned and squinted at Silver’s green parrot. I think it even squinted back. Yeah, I thought, I always knew that parrot and I would have to have one serious talk before this story was over. “Okay, my feathery friend. It’s you and me. Kid vs. parrot. Let’s settle this once and for all. I don’t know where my feather is, but I can take one from you. So just stand still ….”
I leaped at Long John’s shoulder and grabbed for the bird.
“Arrrrh!” cried the parrot. It fluttered up out of reach. I jumped for it, but it managed to fly just too high.
“Get back here!” I shouted.
But the green bird flew up over our heads, out of the cave, and away over the island.
“Captain Flint!” Silver boomed. “Come back to me!”
But the parrot—and all those green feathers—didn’t come back. I glanced at Frankie. “Did I just do something really dumb?”
She nodded. “I’m pretty sure, Devin, yeah.”
Chapter 19
Making me feel even worse, Frankie cracked open the book and showed me that there were only a few pages left. Our adventure, which seemed so long when we started, had moved so fast that it was now nearly over.
But before it was, the captain put us both to work.
“Ugh! Ooof!” In bag after bag, in chest after chest, we helped to lug the heavy treasure onto the ship and stow it down below. Frankie and I kept our eyes peeled, but we found no green feathers. No parrot, either.
When we finally got all the treasure and supplies on board, the captain set sail away from the island. As we rounded the northern tip, we heard faint yells coming from the rocks. And there they were, the last of the pirates, calling out to us not to leave them behind.
“Their hearts are black,” said Silver, shaking his head. “If they see the treasure on the ship, they’ll turn against you as quickly as—”
“As you would?” interrupted the captain.
Silver grinned. “Arrh, quicker!”
But as a final gesture to his bad-guy friends, Silver yelled out as we sailed past. He told the pirates there were lots of supplies left in Ben Gunn’s cave. They should be able to make it until the next ship passed by. The doctor and the captain nodded in approval, but said nothing.
Frankie, Jim, and I watched as Silver gave a final wave to his old crew.
“I know he’s a bad man who has sort of tried to kill us and stuff,” I said. “But you know …”
Frankie nodded. “I know. He’s sort of very likable.”
“I feel it, too,” Jim said with a smile. “Even though he deserves to be punished, it’s hard to think that when we get back to England, he’ll go on trial and probably, well, you know …”
“Lose more than his leg?” I said.
“Exactly.”
It was sad. Long John Silver really was a broken man.
Everyone was quiet now, gathered on deck and watching the island fade away in the distance.
When Spyglass Hill—the highest point on Treasure Island—sank away beneath the horizon, all we could see was the empty blue ocean around us.
I turned to Frankie. “So, what happens now? I mean, here we are, it’s near the end of the story, and we’ve found no green feather bookmark. We’re sunk.”
“Never say ‘sunk’ on a ship,” she said. She held up the book. “We have five pages left. You gotta have hope.”
“Arrh,” said Long John Silver, overhearing us. “I know I always do.”
It was just about sundown when we dropped anchor in a really beautiful bay of a populated island nearby.
Boats filled with people came out to meet us and sell us fruits and veggies and, most importantly for Ben Gunn, chunk upon chunk of ripe cheese. He must have spent half his share of the treasure right
there on the dock.
Seeing all those happy island people, the cool little buildings of their village, and all that food cheered everybody up, including Silver. We even started to forget how frightened we’d been on Treasure Island.
That night, as we were anchored in the bay, we all sat around and talked about our plans for the money.
Between bites of cheese, Ben Gunn told us he would build a house entirely of blocks of Parmesan. Jim was planning to help his mother open an even bigger and nicer inn. The doctor and the squire would give lots to charity. Captain Smollett wanted to buy a farm, far away from any boats, and never sail again.
After a while, the grown-ups went on night watch, leaving Frankie, Jim, and me to keep our eyes on Long John to see that he didn’t escape.
“And what would you do with the treasure?” I asked Long John Silver. “Not that you can have any, I mean.”
“I wouldn’t want more than a little,” he said with a sigh. “Then, I’d make myself a gentleman and find that bookish lady I met once. She’d keep me honest, I suppose. I’d settle down and read the good books she’d give me.”
Frankie laughed. “I know what you mean. Devin and I have people trying to get us to read all the time, too.”
“By the way, what is that book you two have been reading all this time?” asked Jim.
Frankie glanced at me. “It’s about a boy who goes on an adventure and grows up a little on the way.”
“Sounds like a good story,” said Jim.
“It’s been fun, most of it,” said Frankie. “So was our adventure on Treasure Island. Pretty soon we’ll have to say good-bye.”
Jim smiled. “I don’t know if I would have done those dangerous things if you two friends weren’t there.”
“I think you probably would have,” I said, taking the book from Frankie. “It’s in your character.”
But when I opened to the page we were on, it struck me that we were only three pages from the end.
And there was no green feather in sight.
