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Restoration Island had proved well worthy of its name. It might as truthfully have been called Preservation Island, for there is no doubt whatever that, had we been delayed a day or two longer in reaching it, several of our number must have succumbed. Nelson and I would have been two of these; we were drawing upon our last reserves of strength when we passed through the channel into the great lagoons of New Holland. But, after three days of rest and a sufficiency of food, we were wonderfully restored; so much so, that we could take interest and pleasure in the scenes before us.

Ours was, in fact, a great privilege, and I was grateful for the fact that I had recovered strength enough to recognize it. We were coasting the shores of a mighty continent, through waters and among islands all but unknown to white men. Indeed, in so far as I knew, Captain Cook alone had passed this way before us. On our left lay the main, stretching away, we knew not how many hundreds or thousands of leagues, and wrapped in a silence that seemed to have lain there since the beginning of time—a deep, all-pervading stillness like that of mid-ocean on a calm day. Not one of us, I think, but felt the vastness of this presence.

We had in view a low, barren-looking coast that appeared a complete solitude, uninhabited and uninhabitable; and yet we knew, from our experience of the day before, that a few bands of savages, at least, must find sustenance there. We saw more of them before we had sailed many miles.

A number of small islands were in sight to the northeast. Captain Bligh directed our course between them and the main. The strait was no more than a mile wide, and as we were passing through it, a small party of savages like those we had already seen came down to the foreshore on our left hand and stood regarding us.

“Now,” said Bligh, “I mean to have a closer view of those fellows.”

Accordingly, we steered inshore and laid the boat as close as was prudent to the rocks. Meanwhile, the savages, observing our intent, had run away to a distance of about two hundred yards.

Bligh shouted: “Come aboard, there!” and stood in the stern sheets waving a shirt aloft; but not a foot would they stir from their places. They were without a vestige of cloathing, and their bodies looked as black as ink in the clear morning light, against a background of sand and naked rocks. Their timidity was encouraging in our unarmed and weakened condition; we felt that we had little to fear from any small bands of these people.

“They’ll never come,” said Nelson, after we had lain at our oars shouting and beckoning to them. “It’s a pity, too, for they seem harmless enough, and they must have ways of getting food that would be most valuable to us could we learn what they are.”

“No, we may as well proceed,” said Bligh. “I should like to see them near at hand. Sir Joseph Banks is most anxious to have a description of the savages of New Holland. He shall have to be content with the little I can tell him of their general appearance.”

“That is a curious-looking instrument they carry in their left hands,” I observed. “What can its purpose be?”

“In my opinion, it is some sort of a spear thrower,” said Nelson. “One thing you can tell Sir Joseph,” he added: “There are probably no savages in all the South Sea more ugly and uncouth than these. What a contrast they make to the Indians of Otaheite!”

We again hoisted sail, and steered for an island in view before us and about four miles distant from the main. This we reached in about an hour’s time. The shore was rocky, but the water smooth. We made a landing without difficulty, and secured our boat in a little basin, where it rode in complete safety. We brought everything ashore, that the boat might be thoroughly cleaned and dried—putting our water vessels and the carpenter’s chest, with its precious supply of bread, in the shelter of some overhanging rocks.

When we had scrubbed out the boat, Mr. Bligh told off two parties to go in search of shellfish. Purcell was placed in charge of one of these; the other members were Tinkler, Samuel, Smith, and Hall. These men stood waiting for the carpenter, who had seated himself on the beach with the air of one who meant to pass the day there. The other party, in Peckover’s charge, had already gone southward along the beach. Captain Bligh, who had accompanied them a little distance, now returned to where the boat lay.

“Come, Mr. Purcell,” he said brusquely; “set out at once with your men. We have no time to lose here.”

The carpenter remained seated. “I’ve done more than my share of work,” he said, in a surly voice. “You can send someone else with this party.”

Bligh glared down at him. “Do you hear me?” he said. “Get you gone, and quickly!”

The carpenter made no motion to obey. “I’m as good a man as yourself,” he replied; “and I’ll stay where I am.”

Nelson, the master, and myself, besides the members of the foraging party, were the witnesses of this scene. I had long expected something of the sort to happen, and had only wondered that an open break between Captain Bligh and the carpenter had not come before this time. There was a deep and natural antagonism between the two men; they were too much alike in character ever to have been anything but enemies.

Bligh strode across the beach to where the carpenter’s chest had been placed, with two of the cutlasses lying upon it. Seizing the weapons, he returned to where Purcell sat and thrust one of them into his hand.

“Now,” he said. “Stand up and defend yourself. Stand up, I say! If you are as good a man as myself, you shall prove it, here and now!”

There was no doubt of the seriousness of Bligh’s intent. Despite the gravity of the situation, as I think of it now, there was something faintly comic in it as well. In the mind’s eye I have the scene clearly in mind: The sandy spit of beach, backed by the naked rocks; the little group of spectators, their cloathes hanging in rags on their emaciated bodies, looking on at these two, who, despite starvation and hardships incredible, still had fight in them. At least, so I thought at first; but the carpenter quickly showed that his relish for it was faint indeed. He rose, holding his cutlass slackly, and gazed at Bligh with a frightened expression.

“Stand back, you others!” said Bligh. “Up with your weapon, you mutinous villain! I’ll soon prove whether you are a man or not!”

He advanced resolutely toward the carpenter, who backed away at his approach.

“Fight, damn you!” Bligh roared. “Defend yourself or I’ll cut you down as you stand!”

Purcell, although a larger man than Bligh, had little of the latter’s inner fire and strength. Bligh was thoroughly roused; and had the carpenter tried to make good his boast, one or the other of them would, I am convinced, have been killed—and I have little doubt as to which would have been the victim. But Purcell made a complete about-face, and ran from his pursuer, who halted and gazed after him, breathing rapidly.

“Come back, Mr. Purcell!” he cried. “You have even less spirit than I gave you credit for! Come here, sir! ... Now then; do you retract what you have said?”

“Yes, sir,” Purcell replied.

“Very well,” said Bligh. “Let me have no more of your insolence in the future. Get about your work.”

It is to Bligh’s credit that he never afterwards mentioned this incident. As for the carpenter, he was willing enough to have it forever put out of mind. He had, I believe, flattered himself that he was a match for his commander. From this time on, the relations of the two men were on a better footing.

The island upon which we had landed was of a considerable height. While the foraging parties were out, Mr. Bligh, Nelson, and myself walked inland to the highest part of it for a better view of our surroundings; but we could see little more of the main than appeared from below. In our weakened condition the climb had been a fatiguing one, and we took shelter in the shade of a great rock to recover our breath. The lagoons were miracles of vivid colouring in the clear morning light. We could plainly see the tiny figures of the foraging parties as they made their way slowly along the shallows, searching for shellfish. Almost directly below us was the launch, looking smaller than a child’s toy in the bight where she lay.

“There she lies,” said Bligh, gazing fondly at the tiny craft. “I love every strake of planking, every nail in her. Mr. Nelson, could you have believed that she could have carried eighteen men such a voyage as we have come? Could you, Mr. Ledward?”

“I was thinking of just that,” Nelson replied. “We have been under God’s guidance. It must have been so.”

“Aye,” said Bligh, nodding gravely. “But God expected us to play our part. We should not have had his help, otherwise.”

“What distance have we come, in all, sir?” I asked.

“I have this morning reckoned it up,” said Bligh. “I think I am not far out in saying that we have sailed, from Tofoa to the passage within the reefs of New Holland, a distance of two thousand, three hundred and ninety miles.”

“God be thanked that we have so much of the voyage behind us,” said Nelson, fervently. “This leaves us with one thousand miles ahead, does it not?”

“More than that,” Bligh replied. “As nearly as I can recollect, we have between one hundred and fifty and two hundred miles to coast New Holland before we reach Endeavour Straits; but once again in the open sea, we shall have no more than three hundred leagues between us and Timor.”

Nelson turned to me. “Ledward, how long can a man go, in the ordinary course of nature, without passing stool?”

“Ten days is a long period under more normal circumstances,” I replied, “but our situation is anything but a usual one. We have had so little food that our bodies seem to have absorbed the whole of it.”

“So I think,” said Bligh. “There could have been nothing in our bowels until within a day or two past. You look another man, Mr. Nelson, now that you have had rest and better food. We shall all have time to gain new strength before we push off for Timor.”

“I mean to survive,” Nelson replied, smiling faintly; “if only to defeat the purpose of the wretches who condemned us to this misery.”

“Spoken like a man, sir,” said Bligh. A cold glint came into his eyes and his lips were set in a thin line. “By God! I could sail the launch to England, if necessary, with nothing but water in my belly, for the sake of bringing them to justice!”

He rose to his feet and strode back and forth across the little flat-topped eminence where we rested; then he halted before us. Pale, hollow-eyed, his shreds of clothing hanging loosely upon his bones, he yet had within him a fund of energy that amazed me. Mention of the mutineers had stirred him as the call of a trumpet stirs an old cavalry horse. He laughed in his harsh mirthless way. “They flatter themselves that they have seen the last of me,” he said; “the God-damned inhuman, black-hearted bastards! But Divine Providence sees them and will help me to track them down!”

Nelson threw a quick, quizzical glance in my direction. Bligh was quite unconscious of the mixture of blasphemy and reverence in his remark.

“Shall you endeavour to search for them yourself?” Nelson asked.

“Endeavour? By God, I shall more than endeavour! I shall sit on the doorstep at the Admiralty day and night until they give me command of the ship that is to search them out and bring them to justice. I have friends at home who will make my interest their own. I shall not draw a quiet breath until I am outward bound, on their trail.”

“Your family may take a different view of the matter, sir,” I said. “If we are fortunate enough to reach England, Mrs. Bligh will not wish to let you go so soon again.”

“You know me little, Mr. Ledward, if you think I shall dawdle at home with those villains unhung. Not a day shall I spend there if I have my way. As for Mrs. Bligh, she is no ordinary woman. She will be the first to bid me God speed.... Let us go down,” he added, after a moment of silence. “I grudge every moment that we are not proceeding on our way.”

Nelson and I rose to follow him. Bligh stood looking toward a small sandy cay that could be seen at a considerable distance to the northward, and several miles farther from the main than the island upon which we then were.

“We shall go there for the night,” he said. “It will be a safer resting place. The savages yonder must have seen us land here. They seem harmless enough; and yet, without weapons to defend ourselves, I mean to take no risks.”

We went down by another way, to the northern side of the island, stopping now and then to examine the shrubs and stunted trees that grew out of the sand and among clefts in the rocks. We found nothing in the way of food except wild beans, which we gathered in a handkerchief.

“You are sure these are edible, Mr. Nelson?” Bligh asked.

“Yes, there is not the slightest danger,” Nelson replied. “They are dolichos. The flavour is not all that might be wished, but the bean is a nourishing food. It is of the genus of the kidney bean to which the Indian gram belongs.”

“Good,” said Bligh. “Let us hope that the others have collected some as well as ourselves.”

Upon reaching the beach, we discovered an old canoe lying bottom up and half buried in the sand. We dug away around it, but our combined strength was not sufficient to budge it, to say nothing of turning it over. It was about thirty feet long, with a sharp, projecting bow, rudely carved in the resemblance of a fish’s head. We estimated that it would hold about twenty men.

“Here is proof enough,” said Bligh, “that the New Hollanders are not wholly landlubbers. In view of this find, I am all the more willing to proceed farther from the main. We must keep a sharp lookout for these fellows. In our weakened condition they would find us an easy prey.”

We were now joined by Purcell and his party of foragers, carrying our copper pot on a pole between them. They had had splendid luck—the pot was more than half full of fine, fat clams and oysters. Bligh put the carpenter at ease by greeting him in his usual manner.

“It couldn’t be better, Mr. Purcell,” he said. “Every man shall have a bellyful to-day. A stew of these, mixed with dolicho beans—many a ship’s company will fare worse than ourselves this day.”

I was pleased to find a healthy hunger gnawing at my stomach; nothing could have looked more succulent than the sea food, and every man of us was eager to be at the camp with the pot set over a good fire. It was high noon when we joined the others. Peckover’s party had just come in with a supply of clams and oysters almost equal in amount to that in the pot. They had also found, on the south side of the island, an abundance of fresh water in hollows of the rocks—more than enough to fill our vessels. Every circumstance favoured us. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, so that Captain Bligh was able, with his magnifying glass, to kindle a fire at once. The oysters and clams were now dumped into the pot, together with a quart and a half of dolicho beans. The requisite amount of water was added, and to make our stew yet more tasty, each man’s usual amount of bread was added to it. Smith and Hall, our cooks, had whittled out long wooden spoons with which they stirred the stew as it came to a boil, sending up a savoury steam that made the walls of our empty bellies quiver with anticipation. When the stew had cooked for a good twenty minutes,—the time had seemed hours to most of us,—the pot was set off the fire; and we gathered round with our half-coconut shells, while the cooks ladled into each man’s shell all that it could hold of clams, oysters, beans, and delicious broth; and when all had been served, there was still enough in the pot for a half pint more, all round. The beans were not so tasty as we had hoped, but we made a small matter of that.

After our meal we rested for an hour in the shade of the rocks. I had just fallen into a refreshing sleep when Mr. Bligh aroused me. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Ledward,” he said, “but we must push on. We are too close to the main here, and I have no desire for any night visits from the savages.”

It was then about mid-afternoon. With a light breeze, we directed our course to a group of sandy cays which lay about five leagues off the continental shore. Darkness had fallen before we reached them and, as we could find no suitable landing place, we came to a grapnel and remained in the launch until dawn. All through the night we heard the cries of innumerable sea fowl, and daylight showed us that one of the cays was a place of resort for birds of the noddy kind. We found that we were on the westernmost of four small islands, surrounded by a reef of rocks, and connected with sand banks whose surface was barely above high tide. Within them lay a mirror-like lagoon with a small passage, into which we brought the launch.

This place, so far from the main, seemed designed by nature as a refuge for men in our condition. Captain Bligh named it “Lagoon Island,” and gladdened our hearts by informing us that he proposed to spend the day and the following night here. Unfortunately, the cays were little more than heaps of rock and sand, covered with coarse grass and a sparse growth of bush and stunted trees; but there were enough of these latter to protect us from the heat of the sun.

Our forces were divided so that some could rest while others searched for food. The lagoon abounded in fish; but try as we would, we could catch none. This was a great trial; after repeated unsuccessful efforts, we were forced to fall back upon oysters and clams and the one vegetable which these islands afforded—dolicho beans. Even the shellfish were not abundant here, and the party sent in search of them returned at about ten in the morning with a very small number, so that our dinner this day did little more than aggravate our hunger. During the long voyage from Tofoa we had been so cold and miserable the greater part of the time that the pangs of hunger were kept in check. Furthermore, the constant peril of the sea had prevented us from dwelling upon the thought of food. The case was altered now, and we thought of little else.

After our midday dinner, Elphinstone, with a party of four, was sent to the islet adjoining that at which we lay, to search for sea fowl and their eggs, for we had observed that the birds congregated at that place. The rest of us were glad enough to take our rest, crawling into the shade of bushes and overhanging rocks.

On this afternoon I enjoyed a long and undisturbed sleep which greatly refreshed me; indeed, I did not waken until near sundown, just as Mr. Elphinstone’s party was returning. They came in all but empty-handed, having gotten no birds and only three eggs. This was, evidently, not the nesting season: they had found the islet practically deserted; the birds were away fishing for themselves, and the few they had seen were too wary to be caught.

“Nevertheless, we must try again,” said Bligh. “They will soon be coming home with full gullets. We can be sure of catching them at night, and there will be a good light from the moon to hunt by.... Mr. Cole, you shall try this time. Go warily, mind! Let the birds settle for the night before you go amongst them.”

“Aye, sir, we’ll see to that,” said Cole. Samuel, Tinkler, Lamb, and myself were told off to make up his party; and, having provided ourselves with sticks, we set out for the bird island.

It was a beautiful evening, cool and fresh now that the sun had set. There was not a breath of air stirring, and the surface of the lagoons glowed with the colours of the western sky. Our way led over a causeway of hard-packed sand, laid over the coral reef. It was scarcely a dozen paces across, and curved in a wide arc across a shallow sea filled with mushroom coral that rose to within a few feet of the surface. The bar connecting the islands was about two miles long. Tinkler and Lamb were soon far ahead; the boatswain, Samuel, and I followed at a more leisurely pace, stopping to examine the rock pools along the reef for clams and oysters, though we found nothing save a few snails, scarcely larger than the end of one’s thumb. Nevertheless, we gathered them into the bread bag we had brought to carry back the birds.

Whilst in Mr. Bligh’s company we had been careful to make no reference to the mutiny. On one occasion, I remember, young Tinkler had ventured to speak in defense of two of the midshipmen who had been left behind on the Bounty; but Bligh had silenced him in such a manner that no one else was tempted to bring up the subject in his presence. But now, the three of us, freed from restraint, fell naturally into talk of the seizure of the ship and of what had led up to it.

“What puzzles me,” said Cole, “is that Mr. Christian could have made his plan without any of us getting wind of it.”

“It was a sudden resolve on his part, I am fairly certain of that,” I replied.

“That’s my opinion,” said Samuel. “No doubt the villain had plotted it long before, but he bided his time before opening his mind to the others.”

Cole nodded. “Aye, it must have been so,” he said. “What could have brought him to such a mad act, Mr. Ledward? Can you reason it out? He’d no better friend than Captain Bligh, and he must have known it in his heart.” He shook his head, wonderingly. “I’d a liking for Mr. Christian,” he added.

Samuel stopped short and gazed at the boatswain in a horrified manner.

“ ‘Liking,’ Mr. Cole?” he exclaimed.

“Aye,” said Cole. “He was hot-tempered and anything but easy under Mr. Bligh’s correction; but I never doubted him a gentleman and a loyal officer.”

“His Majesty can well spare gentlemen of Christian’s kidney from his service,” I replied. “You’re too lenient in your judgments, Mr. Cole. Whatever else may be said of him, Christian is an intelligent man. He must have known that he was condemning us to all but certain death.”

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Ledward, I don’t believe he did know it. He must have been out of his mind.... This I will say: Mr. Christian will never again know peace. He’ll have us on his conscience till the day of his death.”

“He’ll hang,” said Samuel, confidently. “Hide where he may, Captain Bligh will find him and bring him to justice.”

“Let that be as it will, Mr. Samuel,” said Cole. “I’ll warrant he’s been punished enough as it is.”

“Do you think God could forgive him, Mr. Cole?” I asked, out of curiosity more than for any other reason.

“He could, sir. There’s no crime so black that God cannot forgive it if a man truly repents.”

“Have you forgiven him?” I then asked.

He was silent for a moment as he pondered this question. Then, “No, sir,” he replied, firmly. “He shall never have my forgiveness for the wrong he has done Captain Bligh.”

We were now close to the bird island. Tinkler alone was awaiting us there.

“Where’s Lamb, Mr. Tinkler?” Cole asked. “I told both of you to wait for us.”

“He was here a moment ago. I ordered him to help me look for clams while we waited. I’m damned if I know where he’s got to.”

“It’s your place to know, Mr. Tinkler,” said Samuel shortly. “Captain Bligh shall hear of this if anything goes wrong.”

“Now don’t be a telltale, Samuel, for God’s sake,” said Tinkler anxiously. “What did you expect me to do—throw him down and sit on his head? He can’t have gone far.”

“The man’s a fool,” said Samuel. “He’s not to be trusted out of sight.”

“Aye,” said Cole, “if there’s a wrong way of doing a thing, Lamb will find his way to it. We may as well wait here. There’s time enough.”

No Lamb appeared, for all our waiting. The afterglow faded from the sky, and the moon, nearing the full, shone with increasing splendour, paling all but the brightest of the stars. The birds must have sensed the presence of enemies, for they were long in settling. They circled in thousands over the island, filling the air with their grating cries, but at last the deafening clamour died away and we ventured to proceed on our expedition. The island was, roughly, a mile long and about half as wide, and the birds appeared to have congregated for the night on the farthest part of it. We separated to a distance of about fifty yards and had gone but a little way when the air was again filled with their cries and the moon all but darkened by their bodies. I could guess what had happened: the precious Lamb, without waiting for us, had blundered in amongst the birds, to the ruin of our plans. I saw Tinkler and the boatswain break into a run. My own legs were not equal to the added exertion; indeed, I had so little strength that I had drawn to the limit of it in reaching the bird island, and it was all I could now do to walk, to say nothing of running. By pure chance I managed to knock down two noddies that circled low over my head. One of them was only slightly hurt, and fluttered away from me, but I at length managed to capture it. Having done so, I myself fell down, completely exhausted. Shortly afterward I felt an attack of tenesmus coming on, but to my surprise and relief I discovered that I was evacuating, for the first time in thirty-three days. Perhaps I should pass over this matter in silence; it is not, under ordinary circumstances, one to be referred to; but members of my own profession will understand the interest I took both in the performance of a function so long delayed, and the result of it. The excrement was something curious to see—hard, round pellets not so large as sheep’s turds, and looking perfectly black in the moonlight. The amount was woefully small, and yet I believe that it was all my bowels contained at that time. It confirmed me in the opinion I had ventured to Mr. Nelson—that our bodies had absorbed all but an infinitesimal amount of the little nourishment they had received.

With my two precious birds, I now walked feebly on after my companions, whom I at length found in one spot, gathered around the crouching form of the recreant Lamb.

“Look at this wretch, Mr. Ledward!” Samuel shouted, his voice trembling with rage. “Do you see what he has done?”

Cole said nothing, but stood with his arms folded, gazing at the man. Overhead, the noddies circled about in thousands; but they were far beyond reach. Their cries were all but deafening; we had to shout to make ourselves heard.

But no words were needed to tell me the tale of what had happened. Lamb’s face and hands were smeared with blood, and around him lay the gnawed carcasses of nine birds which he had caught and devoured. I must do him the credit to say that he had made a good job of them; scarcely anything remained but feathers, bones, and entrails. He was making some whining appeal that could not be heard above the tumult of birds’ cries. Of a sudden the boatswain gave him a cuff that knocked him sprawling at full length in the sand. Then Mr. Cole bent over him. “Stop here!” he roared. “If you move from this spot, you rogue, I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life!”

We continued a quest that was now all but hopeless. The birds were thoroughly alarmed, and although we waited for a full two hours, they would not again settle. A few ventured down, but before we could reach them they would take wing again. We caught but twelve in all, though we should have returned with our bag filled.

We trudged back slowly, worn out with the fatigue of the journey and reluctant to reach our camp, for we well knew how bitter would be the disappointment of those awaiting our return. This was the first bird island we had met with, and we had looked forward to a meal of roasted sea fowl with an expectation that might have been laughable had it not been so pathetic.

Mr. Cole carried the bag, driving Lamb on before him. The man persisted in his abject entreaties, begging that nothing be said of the matter to Mr. Bligh:—

“I was out o’ me head, Mr. Cole. I was, straight. I was that starved—”

“Starved?” said Samuel. “And what of the rest of us, you bloody thief? Out of your head! You can tell that to Captain Bligh!”

The boatswain halted. “Mr. Samuel, we’d best not let him know the whole truth of it.”

“What?” exclaimed Samuel. “Would you shield such a villain? When he’s robbed some of us, it may be, of the very chance of life?”

“It’s not that I’d shield him,” said Cole, “but I’d be ashamed to let Captain Bligh know what a poor thing we’ve got amongst us.”

“He knows already,” Samuel replied. “Hasn’t the man been a dead weight to us all the way from Tofoa? He’s done nothing but lie and whine in the bottom of the boat all the voyage. We’ve him to thank, I’ll be bound, for the stolen pork!”

“I didn’t touch it, sir! I didn’t!”

“You did, you rogue! It must have been you! There’s none but yourself would have been such a cur as to steal from his shipmates!”

He was, in all truth, a wretched creature, the inestimable Lamb. I have little doubt that Samuel was right in surmising that he was the thief of the pork. But as that was gone, and the birds as well, I agreed with Cole that nothing was to be gained by disclosing Lamb’s gorge of raw bird flesh. Tinkler sided with us, and Samuel at length agreed to keep that point a secret.

“But Captain Bligh shall know whose fault it was that the birds were frightened,” he said.

“Aye,” said Cole. “We owe it to ourselves that that should be told.” And so it was agreed.

Captain Bligh was, of course, furious. He took the man’s bird stick and thrashed him soundly with it; and never was punishment more richly deserved.

We were a sad company that evening. A fire of coals had been carefully tended against our return, when the fowls were to be roasted, and every man had promised himself at least two of the birds. But when Mr. Bligh saw the miserable result of our expedition, although the twelve birds were dressed and cooked, they were carefully packed away for future use; and we had for supper water, the handful of sea snails we had found, and a few oysters. Elphinstone and Hayward were then set at watch, and the rest of us lay down to sleep.

It seemed to me that I had no more than closed my eyes when I was aroused to find the island in a glare of light. The night was chill and the master had kindled a fire for himself at a distance from the rest of us. Some coarse dry grass which covered the island had caught from this, and the fire spread rapidly, burning fiercely for a time. It was the last straw for Mr. Bligh. We made a vain effort to beat out the flames, and when at last they had burned themselves out, he gave the company in general, and Mr. Fryer in particular, a dressing down that lasted for the better part of a quarter of an hour.

“You, sir,” he roared at Fryer, “who should set an example with myself to all the rest, are a disgrace to your calling! You are the most incompetent bloody rascal of the company! Mark my words! We’ll have the savages on us as a result of this! And serve you right if we do! What are you worth, the lot of you? A more useless set of rogues it has never been my misfortune to command! I send you out for birds, to an island where they congregate in thousands. You frighten them like a lot of children, and get none. I send you out for shellfish. You get none. I set you to fishing. You get none. And yet you expect me to feed you! And if I close my eyes for ten minutes, you’re up to some deviltry that may be the ruination of us all! And you expect me to take you safe to Timor! By God, if I do, it will be thanks to none of you!”

He quieted down presently. “Get you to sleep,” he said gruffly. “This may be our last night ashore till the end of the voyage, so make the most of it.”

I lay awake for some time. Nelson, who was lying beside me, turned presently to whisper in my ear.

“What a man he is, Ledward,” he said. “It comforted me to see him in a passion again. We’ll fetch Timor. I did him a great injustice ever to doubt it.”

I had precisely the same feeling, and I thanked God, inwardly, that Bligh and no other was in command of the Bounty’s launch.