The History: The Treasure Island-Chapter 5

Treasure Island

CHAPTER

5

The Map

Por: Shamir Galvá

I

  told Mr. Dance about the package that I had taken from the captain’s chest, and that it was the same package that the blind man had been after. We agreed to ride to Dr. Livesey’s to ask his advice. When we arrived, his maid told us that he was dining at the home of his friend, Squire Trelawney. We followed him there. We were shown into the dining room where they sat eating. Mr. Dance told them his report. The doctor asked to see the package, which once belonged to Captain Flint. “Have you heard of this Flint?” asked the doctor.

“Heard of him!” said the squire. “He was the most bloodthirsty pirate who ever sailed!”

“Supposing that I had some clue as to where Flint buried his treasure. Will that treasure amount to much?” asked the doctor.

“Amount, sir!” cried the squire. “It will amount to this: If that package gives us a clue as to where the treasure is, I will fit out a ship at Bristol. I’ll take you as the ship’s doctor and Jim Hawkins as cabin boy. I’ll have that treasure if I must search for a year!”

The doctor opened the package and found a book and a map inside. The book was marked with crosses and numbers. The crosses stood for the names of the ships that had sunk. The numbers told of the captain’s own share of the treasures that were stolen from the ships. The map showed an island marked with latitude and longitude. It was so clearly drawn that nothing more would be needed to bring a ship safely into harbor. The plan was set. We would find Flint’s treasure.

I spent several weeks at the squire’s house with Redruth, the gamekeeper. I would sit by the fire and spend hours looking over the map, dreaming of strange islands and adventures. Sometimes the island was full of savages with whom we fought. Sometimes it was filled with dangerous animals that hunted us.

The squire’s letter finally arrived. He said that he had found a ship, the Hispaniola, and a sea cook named Long John Silver, who had lost a leg. With Silver’s help, the squire had also hired a crew. The letter ended by telling me that I might spend a last night with my mother before Redruth and I set out for Bristol.

The next morning I went to the Admiral Benbow Inn. My mother was in good health and good spirits. And, thanks to the squire had also found a boy to help my mother while I was away.

The next day Redruth met me outside the Royal George Inn where we took a coach to Bristol. I slept the whole journey. When I opened my eyes, we were in front of a large bustling dock.

We walked along the docks to the inn where Squire Trelawney was staying. He came out to meet us, looking like a sea officer in his blue coat. There we saw a great many ships of all sizes, rigs, and nations. In some, sailors were singing as they worked. In others, there were men hanging on to ropes high above my head. The ropes seemed no thicker to me than a spider’s web.

Though I had lived by the shore all of my life, I seemed never to have been near the sea until then. The smell of tar and salt was something new. I could not have been more delighted. My heart beat faster. Soon I would be on a ship bound for an unknown island—to seek buried treasure!   

From: Treasury of Illustrated Classics Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Adapted by Barbara Green 1996-2004. 

The History: the Treasure Island-Chapter 4

Treasure Island

CHAPTER

4

Storming the Inn

Por: Shamir Galvá

The sound drew nearer and nearer. We sat there holding our breath. Then the stick struck sharply upon the inn door. We could hear the handle being turned. The bolt rattled as that awful man tried to enter the inn. Then there was a long silence. The tapping began once again. But to our joy, it slowly died away.

“Mother,” I said, “takes the whole of it and let’s be going.”

That the door was bolted must have seemed unusual to the blind man, but I was glad I had locked it. Still, my mother, frightened as she was, would not agree to take a bit more of the money than what was owed her. She also would not take less. So she continued her count until a low whistle sounded. That was enough—more than enough—for both of us.

“I’ll take what I have,” she said quickly.

“I’ll take this to even our account,” said I, picking up the package from the chest.

  

We raced down the stairs, opened the door, and made our escape. We had not started a moment too soon. The fog that had hidden the inn from view was disappearing. The moon was shining clearly around us. It was only just around the tavern door that a bit of fog still hung about to cover the first few steps of our escape. We saw that beyond the bottom of the hill, we would come forth into the moonlight. I grasped my mother’s hand tightly.

This was not all. We heard the sound of running footsteps coming toward us.

We had just made it to the little bridge near the inn when my mother and run on. I am going to faint.” This was certainly the end for both of us, I thought.

I helped her to the edge of the bank where, sure enough, she gave a sigh and fell on my shoulder. I do not know how I found the strength to do it, and I am afraid I did it roughly—but I managed to drag her a little way under the bridge. There we were partly hidden; and it was there that we had to stay—within earshot of the inn.

I crept back to the bank again and lay down behind a bush. From where I was, I could see the inn.  I had hardly been there a moment when some men arrived.

There were seven or eight of them.

Their feet were beating out of time along the road. A man with a lantern was leading them.

 Three men ran together. Through the mist I could see that the one in the middle was the blind beggar. At the next moment his voice showed me I was right.

“Down with the door!” he cried.

“Aye, aye sir!” answered two or three of the others. Then a rush was made upon the inn.

I saw them wait. They spoke in low whispers, as if they were surprised to find that the door had already been opened, but the wait was brief. The blind man again gave his orders. His voice sounded louder and higher, as if he were filled with rage.

“In, in, in!” the blind man shouted.

I heard a voice shout from inside—“Bill’s dead!” But the blind man swore at them. “Search him, you shirking lubbers, and get the chest,” he cried.

I could hear their feet rattling up our stairs. The window of the captain’s room opened with a shatter of broken glass. A man called, “Pew, they’ve been here before us. I can’t find the map!”

“it’s that boy,” said Pew. “I wish I had put his eyes out. They were here—they had the door bolted when I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find them!”

Just then we again heard that same low whistle that had frightened us when my mother was counting the dead captain’s money. I understood now that it was a warning signal telling of some danger.

“There’s that whistle again,” said one man. “Let’s go.”

“Scatter and look for them,” cried Pew. “If only I had eyes!”

The men began to run. As they did so, the noise of horses could be heard. Almost at the same time came a pistol shot. The men ran in every direction and, in no time, not a sign of them remained—except for Pew.

Pew was tapping up and down the road calling in vain for his friends. Some riders came at a gallop down the hill. Pew turned and, with a cry, rolled into a ditch. He was on his feet in a second, but being very confused, he fell right under the nearest of the oncoming horses. The rider tried to save him but the blind man fell onto his side and moved no more.

I soon saw that they were officers. I leaped up and called loudly to them. They said that they had heard of a strange ship moored at Kitt’s Hole and were going to see whose it was. As for Pew, he was dead—stone dead.

My mother was brought back to the village and with a little cold water and smelling salts; she was soon back to good health. I went back to the inn. Everything was smashed, and I could see at once that we were ruined.

Mr. Dance and a few of the other officers rode as fast as they could to Kitt’s Hole, but when they got there, the ship was already under sail. He called for them to come back. A voice called back to him saying that he had better keep out of the moonlight or he would get some “lead in him.” Then a bullet whizzed by his arm.

Soon after that, the ship was gone.

“And that,” said Mr. Dance, “is just about as good as nothing. They’ve gotten off clean. Only I’m glad I stomped upon Master Pew.”

From: Treasury of Illustrated Classics Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Adapted by Barbara Green 1996-2004. 

The History: The Treasure Island-Chapter 3

Treasure Island

CHAPTER

3

The Black Spot

Por: Shamir Galvá

h

e said, “Now boy, take me in to your captain.”

“Sir,” said I, “upon my word, I dare not.”

“Oh! That’s it!” he sneered. “Take me straight in or I’ll break your arm.”

As he spoke, he gave my arm such a twist that it made me cry out.

“Come now, march!” he ordered.

I never heard a voice so cruel and cold as that blind man’s. I obeyed him at once. I walked straight through the inn door and into the hallway. I knew the sick old captain sat in the parlor dazed with rum. The blind man was right behind me. Holding me firmly with his iron fist. He leaned almost more weight on me than I could carry.

“Lead me straight up to him. When he sees me I want you to cry out, ‘Here’s a friend for you, Bill.’ If you don’t do this…”

He then gave my arm a terrible twist that nearly had me fainting. I was so terrified of that blind beggar that I forgot my terror of the captain. As I opened the parlor door, I cried out the words he had ordered.

The poor captain raised his eyes. With one look at the blind man, his face became pale. His mouth dropped open. He tried hard to raise himself up, but I do not believe that he had enough strength in his body to do so.

“Now Bill, sit where you are,” said the blind man. “I can’t see–but I can hear a finger stirring. Business is business. Hold out you left hand. Boy, take his left hand by the wrist. Then bring it near my right hand.”

We both obeyed him instantly. I saw him pass something from his hand into the captain’s.

“And now that’s done,” he said.

And with those words, he suddenly let go of me and, with incredible swiftness, he skipped out of the parlor and into the road. As I stood there, I could hear his stick go tap-tap-tapping into the distance.

It was some time before either one of us came to our senses. But finally, I let go of the captain’s wrist, which I found myself still holding. He drew back his hand and looked hard into his palm.

“Ten o’clock!” the captain cried. “Six hours. We’ll do them yet.” He then sprang to his feet.

Just as the stood up, he swayed. Then he grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. I ran to him at once, calling to my mother. My haste was in vain—the captain had been struck dead! It is a strange thing to understand, for I certainly had never liked the man, but lately I had begun to pity him. As soon as I saw that he was dead, I burst into a flood of tears. It was the second death I had known, and the sorrow of the first was still fresh in my heart.

I lost no time in telling my mother all that I knew. Perhaps I should have told her long before. The captain owed us money from his stay at the inn and it was surely due us.

But we could not stay at the house much longer; the very ticking of the clock frightened us. And, at any moment, Black Dog and his friends might arrive.We stood alone in the house with the captain’s dead body. My mother got a candle. On the floor, close to his hand, we saw a small, round piece of paper. It was blackened on one side. This was the black spot! On the other side was written, “You have till ten tonight.”

“He has till ten, Mother,” I said. Just as I said these words, our old clock began striking. This sudden noise shocked us—but we were grateful that it was only six o’clock. We found his key tied around his neck.

We left the captain where he lay and hurried upstairs to where his chest had stood since the day he’d arrived. It was like any seaman’s chest on the outside, but once the lid was lifted, a strong smell of tobacco rose up from the inside. We saw a suit of very good clothes that had never been worn. Under that there were all kinds of things: an old Spanish watch, two fine pistols, some silver, a bag of money, and a package wrapped up tightly in oilcloth.

“I’ll have what’s due me, but not a penny more,” said my mother. She began to count the money in the captain’s bag. It took a long time, for the coins were all from different countries and were of different sizes.

When we were about halfway through. I suddenly put my hand upon her arm, for I had heard in the silent, frosty air a sound that brought shivers to my body—the tap- tapping of the blind man’s stick upon the frozen road.

From: Treasury of Illustrated Classics Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Adapted by Barbara Green 1996-2004. 

The Treasure Island: Chapther 2

Treasure Island

CHAPTER

2

The Blind Beggar

Escrito por: Albert Shamir Galvá de Jesús

it was on that January morning that the captain had awakened earlier  than usual. He had gone down to the beach. His sword was swinging under his old, blue coat. His telescope was under his arm. It was so cold that his breath hung in the air like smoke.

On that clear, frosty day, Black Dog came to the inn. This was the first of the strange events that rid us, at last, of the captain.

“I’ll have a glass of rum from this child here,” said Black Dog to the captain, “and we will sit and talk like old shipmates.”

When I came back with the rum, I found them seated at the table. They told me to go away. For a ,long time I did my best to listen, but could hear nothing. Then I heard the captain say, “No, no, no—and an end of it!”

All of a sudden there was a terrific outburst. Their voices were so loud that I felt certain that they could be heard a mile away. A chair and table fell over. A clash of swords followed. Then I heard a cry of pain. In the next instant. I saw Black Dog run past me in flight. The captain, with his sword flashing, ran right after him. At the door, the captain raised his sword to aim one last blow—but he hit the signpost of the inn instead. To this day, you can still see where the sword struck. That blow was the last of the battle. Black Dog disappeared over the edge of the hill. I turned to the captain. His color was gray. Finally, he spoke. “Jim,” said the captain, “rum.”

He was not steady on his feet and he leaned against the wall.

“Are you hurt?” I cried.

“Rum,” he said again. “I must get away from here. Rum. Rum, I say!”

I ran to fetch it as I hurried, I heard a loud noise. Running back into the parlor, I saw the captain Iying on the floor. At the same moment, my mother, who had been alarmed by all the noise, came running downstairs to help me. We lifted the captain’s head. He was breathing hard, and his face had a horrible color. I tried to put the rum down his throat—but his teeth were tightly shut. We were glad when the door opened and Dr. Livesey came in. He was on his way to visit my father.

“Oh, Doctor,” we cried, “what shall we do? Where is he wounded?”

“Wounded? A fiddlestick’s end!” said the doctor. “He’ s not wounded. The man has had a stroke. I must do what I can to save his worthless life.”

Between us, and with much trouble, we carried him upstairs and laid him on his bed.

“He should lie where he is for a week. That is the best thing for him,” said Dr. Livesey. 

“another stroke is sure to kill him.”

At noon, I stopped at the captain’s door with cool drinks and medicines.

The captain said, “Black Dog is a bad one, but  there are worse. If they give me the black spot, it is my old sea chest they are after. There is something in there from Captain Flint. I was his first mate.”

“What is the black spot, Captain?” I asked. But the captain gave no answer.

My poor father had been ill all winter, and he died quite suddenly that evening. Because of our sorrow, planning the funeral, and all of the work of the inn that still had to be done, I hardly had time to think of the captain.

He came downstairs the next morning. No one dared to bother him. His temper was more violent than ever.

On the night before the funeral, the captain got drunk. It was shocking to hear him singing his ugly old sea-song in that sad house. As weak as he was, he still climbed up and down the stairs. He went from the parlor to the bar and back again, sometimes putting his nose outdoors to smell the sea. He had a frightful way of laying his sword before him on the table. But with all that, the captain would mind his own business and seemed shut up in his own thoughts.

On a chilly afternoon the day after the funeral, I was standing by the inn door. I saw someone coming slowly up the road. It was a blind man, and he tapped before him with a stick. Bent over and wearing a tattered cloak with a hood, he looked like a hunchback. Raising his voice in a strange way, he spoke to the air in front of  him saying, “will a kind friend tell a poor blind man where he is?”

“You are at the Benbow Inn, my good man,” said I.

“I hear a young voice,” he said. “Give me your hand, my kind young friend, and lead me in.”

I held out my hand and that horrible, soft-spoken, eyeless man gripped it like a vise. I was so surprised that I struggled to draw my hand away. But the blind man pulled me close with his strong grip.

From: Treasury of Ilustrated Classics Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Adapted by Barbara Green 1996-2004.

The History: The Treasure Island

Treasure Island

Robert Louis Stevenson

CHAPTER

1

A Fine Excitement in a Quiet Country Life

Escrito por: Albert Shamir Galvá de Jesús

I, Jim Hawkins, will write my tale. I will keep nothing back from you except the location of Treasure Island. I cannot tell you this because there are still treasures there to be found. My story begins long ago when my father was the innkeeper of the Admiral Benbow Inn. It was then that the old seaman with the terrible scar on his cheek first came to live under our roof. I remember him as if it were yesterday. He was a big, heavy man. A pigtail fell over the shoulder of his dirty, blue coat. His hands were twisted, and that shiny, white scar —I shall never forget it!

He looked along the seacoast, and whistled to himself. Then, with a voice high and shaking, he broke out in an old sea song that he would sing so often after: “Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest—yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”  

He was a silent man, but was used to being obeyed. We called him Captain. All day he hung about the cliffs with his brass telescope. All evening he sat in the parlor by the fire, drinking strong rum and water. Every day he asked if there were any sailors who had gone by along the road. At first, we thought that he asked because he wanted company, but soon we began to see that he was afraid. 

He promised me a silver four penny if I would keep watch for a seafaring man with one leg. How that one-legged sailor haunted my dreams! On stormy nights when the wind shook the four corners of the inn and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliff, he would appear with a thousand cruel expressions.

There were nights when the captain drank a lot more rum than his head could handle. Then he would sing his wild sea songs. Sometimes he would call for glasses for all and would force the trembling company to sing along. Often I would hear the house shaking with “Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum” —all the neighbors joining in with the fear of death upon them. Each would sing louder than the other to avoid an angry remark from the captain.

His stories were what frightened people most of all. Dreadful stories they were—about hanging, walking the plank, storms at sea, and wild deeds on the Spanish Main. He must have lived a life among some of the wickedest men upon the sea. The people were scared but, looking back upon it, it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life. He was a true “sea dog” and the sort of man who made seafaring so terrifying.

One day in January a stranger came. He had a nasty look, and I saw that he was missing two fingers on his left hand. “Is my mate Bill here?” he sneered. The captain looked as if he had seen a ghost. “Black Dog!” he gasped.

From: Treasury of Ilustrated Classics Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Adapted by Barbara Green 1996-2004.

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