This last trip was quite different from the others. Our little boat was far too heavy. There were five grown men in it, three of them over six feet tall, and the powder, the pork and the bags of biscuits. The water came almost to the top of the sides, and before we had gone a hundred yards, my coat was wet through.
And the tide was going out. A strong current pulled us away from our landing place, toward the pirates’ boats. I was steering, while the captain and Redruth rowed, and I had to point the boat almost the wrong way just to stay on course.
“The current is weaker now, sir,” said Gray from the front.
“Thank you, my man,” I said, as if nothing had happened, for we had all decided to treat him as one of us.
Suddenly the captain spoke again, and his voice sounded different.
“The cannon!” he said. “Look behind you, doctor.”
We had completely forgotten the ship’s cannon. And there, to our horror, were the five pirates on board, pulling off its cover. We had left the cannon balls and the powder for it on the ship.
“Israel Hands was Flint’s gunner,” said Gray in a rough voice.
We turned the boat straight for the landing place. But now its side faced the Hispaniola, and we were as easy to hit as a barn door.
“Who’s the best shot?” asked the captain.
“Mr. Trelawney, by far,” I said.
“Mr. Trelawney, will you please shoot one of those men, sir? Hands, if possible. Careful, or you’ll sink the boat!”
The squire was as cool as steel. We stopped rowing and leaned to the other side to keep the boat steady while he aimed. Hands was loading the cannon, and he was the easiest man to hit. But just as the squire fired, Hands bent down, the ball flew over his head, and one of the other men fell.
His cry was answered by many voices on the shore. The other pirates ran out from the trees and jumped into their boats.
“Here come their boats, sir,” I said.
“Row hard, then,” cried the captain. “It doesn’t matter now if we sink her. If we can’t get ashore, it’s all over. It’s not their boats I’m worried about. It’s the cannon. Squire, tell us when they’re ready to fire.”
We were now close to the shore. Thirty or forty more strokes, and we would reach the sand. On the ship the pirates did not even look at their wounded mate, who was trying to crawl away.
“Ready!” cried the squire.
“Back!” cried the captain, quick as an echo.
He and Redruth pulled back on their oars so hard that the back of the boat went under water. At the same moment the cannon fired. This was the first shot that Jim heard; he had not heard the squire’s. I think the ball flew over our heads.
Our boat sank slowly, back first, in three feet of water. The captain and I were left standing, facing each other, and the other three came up wet and spitting water.
Nobody was lost, and we could walk ashore safely. But all our stores were at the bottom, and only two guns out of five could still be used. I had held mine above my head, and the captain had carried his on his back. The other three had gone down with the boat.
Worse, we could already hear voices coming nearer through the woods. We were afraid for Hunter and Joyce, too. If half a dozen pirates attacked them, would they stand firm? Hunter was steady, but Joyce was a polite, pleasant servant, better at brushing clothes than at fighting.
So we waded ashore as fast as we could and left behind us our poor small boat and a good half of all our powder and food.