Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dear Reader,

  How to Use This Book

  An Important Note

  Words to Know

  Prologue: Treasure Map

  1. An Old Sea Dog

  2. Long John Silver

  3. Treasure Island

  4. Battle for the Island

  5. The Treasure

  Epilogue: Book Report

  Can You Survive These Titles?

  About Robert Louis Stevenson

  About Treasure Island

  About the Author

  Dedication

  For my mother—my #1 fan

  Edited by Ryan Jacobson

  Cover art by Elizabeth Hurley

  Cover logo by Shane Nitzsche

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904299

  Copyright 2013 by Blake Hoena

  Published by Lake 7 Creative, LLC

  Minneapolis, MN 55412

  www.lake7creative.com

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 978-0-9883662-6-8 (paperback)

  ISBN: 978-1-940647-02-9 (ebook)

  Dear Reader,

  I grew up a huge fan of Walt Disney’s Treasure Island, the classic movie from the 1950s. I wanted to be Jim Hawkins, find a treasure map where X marks the spot, and set sail across the deep blue seas.

  At the time I first saw Treasure Island, I wasn’t much of a reader. So I was amazed to learn that my favorite movie was actually based on a book by Robert Louis Stevenson. I begged my parents to get me the big Illustrated Junior Library version. It was probably the most difficult book I had ever read, but I loved it.

  Treasure Island is a great tale, full of adventure. I thought it would make a fantastic Choose Your Path book. I have taken great care to stay true to the original story and to use as much of Stevenson’s dialogue as possible. Pirates of the 1800s don’t talk like we do today. I wanted the characters in this adaptation to sound as if they were seafaring men.

  When you’re ready, I encourage you to also seek out the original version of Treasure Island and give it a read. For now, please enjoy this adaptation.

  —Blake Hoena

  How to Use This Book

  As you read Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, you will sometimes be asked to jump to a distant page. Please follow these instructions. Sometimes you will be asked to choose between two or more options. Decide which you feel is best, and go to the corresponding page. (But be careful; some options will lead to disaster.) Finally, if a page offers no instructions or choices, just go to the next page.

  Your choices will always be located on their own separate page. This allows us to ensure that your choices appear together, with no page breaks in between.

  Enjoy the story, and good luck!

  An Important Note

  This ebook is best read by holding your eReader vertically, as shown above. It allows the book to be viewed one page at a time, rather than two. This helps to avoid any potential confusion, after making a choice, about which page to read next.

  Words to Know

  Bow: the front of a ship

  Crosstree: a beam at the top of a mast; a ship’s sails are attached to it

  Gangplank: the ramp on which sailors board a ship

  Hold: a storage space in the lower part of a ship

  Hull: the outer shell of a ship

  Mast: a tall pole that holds up a ship’s sails and ropes

  Port: the left side of a ship

  Rigging: ropes that attach a sail to a ship’s mast

  Starboard: the right side of a ship

  Stern: the back of a ship

  Tiller: a lever used for steering a ship

  Topmast: the top of the main, middle pole (or mast) that holds a ship’s sails and ropes

  Prologue: Treasure Map

  Every day this week you’ve raced home from school. Your dad has a rule that if you’re caught up on homework, you get some game time before dinner. And you just bought the new version of Zombie Pirates. It’s what all your friends are playing, and you can’t get enough of it. Not only do you battle zombie pirates, but there are zombie squids and zombie sharks, too.

  You burst through the front door, race to your room, and drop your backpack in the middle of the floor. Sure, you have homework, but it’s nothing you can’t wrap up on the bus tomorrow. Well, except for your book report. It’s already a few days late, but maybe Mrs. Johnson will give you the weekend to finish it.

  You turn on your game system, and you reach for your controller. You always set it next to your console, but now it’s not there! You start checking around your room. You toss aside your blankets, rummage through the junk on your desk, and glance at your bookshelves.

  Nothing.

  You find yourself standing in front of your game system empty-handed.

  Where could the controller have gone? you wonder.

  That’s when you notice the slip of paper folded and tucked under your console; only a sliver of it is showing. You pull it out and unfold it. It’s a note.

  Arr, matey, if it be a real adventure you’re after, follow this here map to find me pirate treasure.

  You roll your eyes. The message is from your dad. You can tell by the handwriting—and the sad attempt at humor. He worries when you get too involved in your video games. He’s probably hidden your controller, so you have to take a break from it. For now, there’s only one thing you can do: follow the map.

  It takes a while to figure out where to start. That’s because your dad hasn’t labeled anything on the map and because of his drawings. What you thought was a stick man with an Afro is actually a tree—the big oak tree in your front yard. That’s the starting point. You dig out a compass from your little brother’s Cub Scout supplies, and you head outside.

  From the tree, you walk fifteen paces northeast, then another twenty north. That puts you in your backyard. Then it’s fifteen more paces northwest. As you count them off... nine... eight... seven... you notice the sound of singing.

  “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest— Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”

  You stop. Glancing from side to side, behind you and in front of you, you see nothing unusual. Just some trees rustling in the wind.

  You read the next part of the map, “ten paces west,” and you head straight for your brother’s sandbox.

  Ten... nine...

  You hear the crash of waves.

  Six... five...

  Next it’s the sound of clanging swords. You wonder if your dad buried an MP3 player.

  Two... one...

  You stand at the edge of the sandbox.

  “Drink and the devil had done for the rest— Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”

  You hear more singing. More crashing waves. More clanging swords. At this point, you’re beyond curious. You can’t help but wonder what sort of “pirate treasure” your dad has hidden.

  You kneel down in the sandbox, pick up one of your brother’s plastic shovels, and start digging. As you scoop sand, the noises get louder and louder.

  You find a metal box about a foot deep. Could it be filled with treasure? Its clasp is broken, so you throw the lid open. You discover... a book?

  It’s old and tattered, and across the top are the words Treasure Island emblazoned in gold letters.

  You groan, disappointed. Why would Dad bury a book for you to find?

  But then you realize t
hat the sounds are coming from within the book. A part of you wants to pick it up, to find out what the strange noises mean. But you’re afraid of what will happen if you do. There’s a powerful aura coming from that book. You sense that opening it could lead to a dangerous adventure, filled with life-or-death choices.

  The noises start to fade. Your instincts tell you that it’s now or never. You must decide, and you must decide fast. Will you pick up the book, or will you leave it be? What will you choose to do? (Choices are on the next page.)

  Grab the book.

  Leave the book.

  The best thing to do is leave the book alone. After all, it’s just a silly book. So what if it’s making weird noises? What you really want is your controller back.

  You drop the metal box—and the book—back into the hole. Then you kick sand over it.

  You head into the house and go to your room. Your dad is sitting on the bed. He holds your game controller in his hand. “Mrs. Johnson called,” he says. “You haven’t turned in your book report.”

  You look down at your feet. “I know,” you reply.

  Your dad stands and moves toward the doorway. But before he walks through it, he looks back at you.

  You’re unable to meet his eyes.

  “No video games for a week,” he says. “Then we’ll discuss some changes to the rules. After that, maybe you’ll get your controller back.” Without waiting for you to answer, he exits the room.

  You slump down on your bed. Great, you think, no Pirate Zombies for a week. Maybe you should’ve picked up that strange book after all.

  Try again.

  What could be more exciting than an adventure with life-or-death choices? You reach into the metal box and pull out the book. It’s thicker and heavier than you expected. It sends a tingling shock through your fingers and up your arms.

  Suddenly, the strange noises loudly surround you: the singing, the crashing waves, the clanging swords. They’re deafening!

  The book flips open. The pages in front of you begin to glow, and you find that you cannot look away. You grow dizzy. Your head begins to swirl. Your knees buckle. Then you fall forward, into the book, and everything becomes very, very dark.

  1. An Old Sea Dog

  Your name is Jim Hawkins. You help your mother run the Admiral Benbow, an old inn on the outskirts of Black Hill Cove. The small village lies along the western coast of England.

  This morning, there are few customers. You quickly clean up after breakfast is served and head outside. You enjoy watching the sailors walk up the road from the city of Bristol. The sailors are a rough and sea-worn bunch. But you admire them for the places they’ve seen and the adventures they’ve had.

  Every so often, one of those sailors stops and stays at the Admiral Benbow. Today is one of those days.

  While you watch the road, an old “sea dog” of a sailor strolls toward the inn. He’s tall and wearing a dirty blue coat. His hair is pulled back in a pigtail. His hands are rough with black, broken nails. But the detail that you latch onto is the scar, looking like a sabre cut, across his right cheek.

  He must have amazing stories to tell, you think.

  In his arms, the old sailor carries a sea chest. And as he walks, he hums.

  “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest— Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”

  When he reaches the Admiral Benbow’s front door, he stops and glances down at you.

  “This looks like a pleasant grog-shop,” he says. “Much company, mate?”

  You shake your head.

  “Well, then,” he says, “this is the place for me.”

  You open the door for him, and he saunters inside.

  Your mother is waiting in the parlor to greet him. “What can I do for you, sir?” she asks.

  “I think I’ll stay here a bit,” he says. Then turning to you, he adds, “Can you take this up to my room, matey?”

  He hands you his sea chest. Its weight nearly knocks you over, but you grit your teeth and carry it toward the stairs that lead up to the guest rooms.

  As you’re stumbling away, you hear the old sailor say to your mom, “You ought call me Captain.”

  Captain’s stay at the inn turns from days into weeks, from weeks into months. Each month, your mother has to hound him to settle his bill. After much grumbling, he tosses her a few silver coins.

  In the mornings, Captain hangs around the cove. He watches the ships sailing into the harbor through his brass telescope. At night, he sits by the fireplace and drinks rum. He’s secretive and keeps mostly to himself.

  On some nights, he sings loudly in the parlor.

  “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest— Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest— Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”

  You wonder if the “dead man’s chest” is the chest you carried to his room. But you’re too afraid to ask him.

  Yet, one day, he pulls you aside and holds out a silver coin. “Listen, lad, I’ll give you a fourpenny on the first of every month if you’d do me a favor,” he says as he squeezes your arm. There’s a strange quiver of fear in his voice. His eyes dart about wildly, as if danger lurks around every corner. “Keep a lookout for a seafaring man with one leg. Can you do that for me?”

  Captain is big and a cutlass sword dangles from his belt. You wonder what sort of man could scare him. Would it be safe to get involved in his affairs? And is a little extra money worth the risk? What will you choose to do? (Choices are on the next page.)

  Agree to help Captain.

  Say no.

  You worry it could be dangerous getting involved in Captain’s affairs. So you tell him, “No, I don’t think I can help you.”

  “Why not, matey?” he asks.

  “I— I— I’m busy with chores,” you say, stumbling for an answer. “My mom wouldn’t like it if I didn’t get to them.”

  Captain runs his thumb along the scar on his cheek and scowls at you. You can tell he’s mad, and you worry about what he might do. You don’t think he will harm you, but you back away.

  As you do, Captain spins on his heels and turns from you. He stomps up the stairs. A moment later, you hear his door slam shut.

  The next morning, as you’re helping your mom prepare breakfast, you see Captain at the top of the stairs. His sea chest is in his arms. Slowly, he waddles down the steps.

  “Are you leaving?” your mother asks. She’s worried that she’ll have one less paying guest.

  “Aye,” he says. “It’s not safe in these here parts for an old sea dog like me.”

  He casts a dark glance in your direction. You know he’s leaving because you refused to help him.

  Your mom holds the door open for him as he squeezes past you.

  If you let him leave, you’ll never know about the one-legged man. And you’ll never know what’s in that chest of his. But then, as he said, it’s not safe here for him. That also means it’s probably not safe for you or your mother. Will you change your mind and offer to help Captain, or will you let him go? What will you choose to do?

  Offer to help Captain

  Let Captain leave.

  You will never know or understand Captain’s secrets, but you feel that it’s far too dangerous to be involved with him. You let him walk out the door, and you go back to your morning chores.

  As the days, weeks, and months pass, you continue to enjoy watching the sailors come up the road from Bristol. Most often, they just walk on by. But sometimes they stop at the Admiral Benbow and share with you stories of their adventures.

  As you listen, you think back on Captain. You do not know how he’s fared with the one-legged seafaring man. Part of you wishes you’d said yes when he asked for help. If you had, perhaps you would’ve experienced your own adventure. Instead, you rem
ain stuck here, at the Admiral Benbow, where you will probably work for the rest of your life.

  Try again.

  Curiosity gets the best of you. You decide to change your mind and offer to help Captain. You want to know about the seafaring man with one leg. More importantly, you hope to find out what’s in Captain’s chest.

  You sprint through the door. “Captain, wait!”

  He is only a few steps ahead of you and stops when you call to him. “What is it, lad? Come to see me off, did ye?”

  Click here to continue.

  You tell Captain, “I will help you.” After all, business has been slow at the Admiral Benbow. Any amount of money will benefit you and your mother.

  Captain places a coin in your palm. “Good, now get along. And remember, if you see a seafaring man with one leg, you let me know.”

  Every day, as he returns from the cove, Captain asks, “Have you seen him?”

  Every day, you tell him, “No.”

  As the days wear on, visions of the man with one leg begin to haunt your dreams. Did he lose his leg in an accident? A battle? Was it cut off at the knee? The hip? Is he a criminal? Or worse, a pirate? You soon develop as much fear of the one-legged man as Captain has.

  On some nights during Captain’s stay, he tells tales of life on the high seas: deadly storms, men walking the plank, and wild exotic places. You find the stories both frightening and thrilling. You hope that you will hear about the one-legged man. But Captain never mentions him in his stories.

  One day, as you clean up after breakfast, you watch Captain leave for the cove. His cutlass sword swings at his hip, and the brass telescope is tucked under his arm. As you continue with your chores, you wonder what he’s looking for. It must be important. He’s been carrying on with this odd habit for several months now.