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PinkMonkey.com-Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson




32. The Treasure-hunt--The Voice Among the
Trees

PARTLY from the damping influence of this alarm, partly
to rest Silver and the sick folk, the whole party sat down as
soon as they had gained the brow of the ascent.

The plateau being somewhat tilted towards the west, this spot
on which we had paused commanded a wide prospect on either
hand. Before us, over the tree-tops, we beheld the Cape of the
Woods fringed with surf; behind, we not only looked down upon
the anchorage and Skeleton Island, but saw--clear across the spit
and the eastern lowlands--a great field of open sea upon the east.
Sheer above us rose the Spy-glass, here dotted with single pines,
there black with precipices. There was no sound but that of the
distant breakers, mounting from all round, and the chirp of
countless insects in the brush. Not a man, not a sail, upon the sea;
the very largeness of the view increased the sense of solitude.
Silver, as he sat, took certain bearings with his compass.
“There are three ‘tall trees’“ said he, “about in the right line
from Skeleton Island. ‘Spy-glass shoulder,’ I take it, means that
lower p’int there. It’s child’s play to find the stuff now. I’ve half a
mind to dine first.”

“I don’t feel sharp,” growled Morgan. “Thinkin’ o’ Flint--I think
it were--as done me.”

“Ah, well, my son, you praise your stars he’s dead,” said Silver.
“He were an ugly devil,” cried a third pirate with a shudder;
“that blue in the face too!”

“That was how the rum took him,” added Merry. “Blue! Well, I

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