not dangerous. No organ was fatally injured. Anderson's ball —for it was Job that shot him first—had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, not badly; the second had only torn and displaced some muscles in the calf. He was sure to recover, the doctor said, but in the mean time and for weeks to come he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much as speak when he could help it.
My own accidental cut across the knuckles was a flea-bite. Dr. Livesey patched it up with plaster, and pulled my ears for me into the bargain.
After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the captain's side awhile in consultation; and when they had talked to their hearts' content, it being then a little past noon, the doctor took up his hat and pistols, girt on a cutlass, put the chart in his pocket, and, with a musket on his shoulder, crossed the palisade on the north side and set off briskly through the trees.
Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the blockhouse, to be out of earshot of our officers consulting; and Gray took his pipe out of his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back again, so thunderstruck he was at this occurrence.
"Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Dr. Livesey mad?"
"Why, no," says I. "He's about the last of this crew for that, I take it!"
"Well, shipmate," said Gray, "mad he may not be; but if he's not, you mark my words, / am."
"I take it," replied I, "the doctor has his idea; and if I am right he's going now to see Ben Gunn."
I was right, as appeared later; but in the mean time, the house being stifling hot and the little patch of sand inside the palisade ablaze with midday sun, I began to get another thought into my head, which was not by any means so right. What I began to do was to envy the doctor, walking in the cool shadow of the woods, with the birds about him, and the pleasant smell of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to the hot resin, and so much blood about me, and so many poor dead