Mutiny on the Bounty

by Nordhoff

  He was silent for some time, staring gloomily out over the starlit sea. At length he said, "Byam, there's something I wish you would do for me."

  "What is it?"

  "The chances are there'll be no occasion, but on a long voyage like this one never knows what may happen. If, for any reason, I should fail to reach home, I'd like you to see my people in Cumberland. Would that be too much trouble for you?"

  "Not at all," I replied.

  "During the last conversation I had with my father, just before I joined the ship, he asked that I make such an arrangement with someone aboard the Bounty . In case anything should happen, he said that it would be a comfort to him to talk with one of my friends. I promised, and I've let half the voyage pass without fulfilling it. I feel better now that I have spoken."

  "You can count on me," I said, shaking his hand.

  "Good! That's settled, then."

  "Well, Mr. Christian! You're up late."

  We turned quickly to find Bligh standing a yard away. He was barefoot and dressed only in his shirt and trousers. Neither of us had heard him approach.

  "Yes, sir," Christian replied, coldly.

  "And you, Mr. Byam. Can't you sleep?"

  "It's very warm below, sir."

  "I hadn't noticed it. A true sailor can sleep in an oven if the case requires. Or on a cake of ice."

  He stood there for a moment as though expecting us to make some reply; then he turned abruptly and walked to the ladderway, halting to glance at the trim of the sails before going below again. Christian and I talked in desultory fashion for a brief time; then he bade me good-night and went forward somewhere.

  Tinkler, who had been lying in deep shadow by one of the guns, sat up and stretched his arms with a deep yawn.

  "Go below, Byam, and show that you are a true seaman. Damn you and Christian and your gabble! I was just getting drowsy when he came along."

  "Did you hear what he said?" I asked.

  "About notifying his father in case anything happened? Yes; I couldn't help eavesdropping. My father made no such request of me—which only goes to show that he has no hope of my not coming back. I must have a drink. I've been thinking of nothing but water this past hour, and I'm not entitled to one before morning. What would you do, in my case?"

  "Mr. Peckover has just gone below for a moment," I said. "You might chance it."

  "Has he?" Tinkler leaped to his feet. He ran up the shrouds for the gun barrel and had carried it aloft again before Peckover returned. As we went below together I heard three bells strike, and the far-off call of the lookout in the foretop: "All's well!" I settled myself in my hammock and was soon asleep.

  CHAPTER IX.—THE MUTINY

  Shortly after daybreak I was awakened by someone shaking me roughly by the shoulder, and at the same time I was aware of loud voices, Mr. Bligh's among them, and the heavy trampling of feet on deck. Churchill, the master-at-arms, stood by my hammock with a pistol in his hand, and I saw Thompson, holding a musket with the bayonet fixed, stationed by the arms chest which stood on the gratings of the main hatch: At the same time two men, whose names I do not remember, rushed into the berth, and one of them shouted, "We're with you, Churchill! Give us arms!" They were furnished with muskets by Thompson and hurried on deck again. Stewart, whose hammock was next to mine in the larboard berth, was already up and dressing in great haste. Despite the confused tumult of voices overhead, Young was still asleep.

  "Have we been attacked, Churchill?" I asked; for my first thought was that the Bounty must have drifted close to one of the islands thereabout, and that we had been boarded by the savages.

  "Put on your clothes and lose no time about it, Mr. Byam," he replied. "We have taken the ship and Captain Bligh is a prisoner."

  Aroused suddenly from the deepest slumber, I did not even then grasp the meaning of what he said, and for a moment sat gazing stupidly at him.

  "They've mutinied, Byam!" said Stewart. "Good God, Churchill! Are you mad? Have you any conception of what you're doing?"

  "We know very well what we're doing," he replied. "Bligh has brought all this on himself. Now, by God, we'll make him suffer!" Thompson shook his musket in menacing fashion. "We're going to shoot the dog!" he said; "and don't you try any of your young gentlemen's tricks on us, or we'll murder some more of you! Seize 'em up, Churchill! They're not to be trusted."

  "Hold your tongue and mind the arms chest," Churchill replied. "Come, Mr. Byam, hurry into your clothes. Quintal, stand fast by the door there! No one's to come forward without my orders—understand?"

  "Aye, aye, sir!"

  Turning my head, I saw Matthew Quintal at the rear entrance to the berth. Even as I looked, Samuel appeared behind him, dressed only in his trousers, his thin hair standing awry and his pale face considerably paler than its wont. "Mr. Churchill!" he called.

  "Go back, you fat swine, or I'll run you through the guts!" Quintal shouted.

  "Mr. Churchill, sir! Allow me to speak to you," Samuel called again.

  "Drive him back," Churchill said, and Quintal made so fierce a gesture with his musket that Samuel vanished without waiting to hear more. "Give him a prod in the backside, Quintal," someone shouted, and, looking up, I saw two more armed men leaning over the hatchway.

  Without weapons of any sort, there was nothing that Stewart and I could do but obey Churchill's orders. Both he and Thompson were powerful men and we should have been no match for them even had they been unarmed. I immediately thought of. Christian, a man as quick in action as in decision, but I knew there could be no hope of his still being at liberty. He was the officer of the morning watch and had doubtless been rushed and overwhelmed at the very outset of the mutiny, even before Bligh had been secured. Catching my eye, Stewart shook his head slightly, as much as to say, "It's useless. There's nothing to be done."

  We dressed in short order, and Churchill then ordered us to precede him along the passage to the fore ladderway. "Keep the others in the berth, Thompson," he called back. "Leave 'em to me; I'll mind 'em!" Thompson replied. There were several armed guards at the fore-hatch, among them Alexander Smith, my hammock man, whose loyalty in whatever situation I should have thought unquestionable. It was a shock to see him in Churchill's party, but the scene that presented itself as we came on deck made me forget the very existence of Smith.

  Captain Bligh, naked except for his shirt, and with his hands tied behind his back, was standing by the mizzenmast. Christian stood before him, holding in one hand the end of the line by which Bligh was bound and in the other a bayonet, and around them were several of the able seamen, fully armed, among whom I recognized John Mills, Isaac Martin, Richard Skinner, and Thomas Burkitt. Churchill then said to us, "Stand by here. We mean no harm to either of you unless you take part against us." He then left us.

  Stewart and I had taken it for granted that Churchill was the ringleader of the mutineers. As already related, after his attempted desertion at Tahiti he had been severely punished by Bligh. I knew how deeply he hated him, and it was conceivable that such a man could goad himself even to the point of mutiny. But that Christian could have done so, no matter what the provocation, was beyond anything I could have dreamed of as possible. Stewart's only comment was, "Christian! Good God! Then there's no hope."

  The situation looked hopeless indeed. At this time the only unarmed men I saw on deck were Captain Bligh and ourselves. The ship was entirely in the hands of the mutineers. Evidently we had been brought up to divide the party of midshipmen below, thus preventing any opportunity for our taking concerted action. In the confusion we made our way aft a little way, and as we approached the spot where Bligh was standing, I heard Christian say, "Will you hold your tongue, sir, or shall I force you to hold it? I'm master of this ship now, and, by God, I'll stand no more of your abuse!" Sweat was pouring down Bligh's face. He had been making a great outcry, shouting, "Murder! Treason!" at the top of his voice.

  "Master of my ship, you mutinous dog!" he yelled. "I'll see you hung! I'
ll have you flogged to ribbons! I'll..."

  "Mamu , sir! Hold your tongue or you are dead this instant!"

  Christian placed the point of his bayonet at Bligh's throat with a look in his eye there was no mistaking. "Slit the dog's gullet!" someone shouted; and there were cries of "Let him have it, Mr. Christian!"

  "Throw him overboard!"

  "Feed the bastard to the sharks!" and the like. It was only then, I think, that Captain Bligh realized his true situation. He stood for a moment breathing hard, looking about him with an expression of incredulity on his face.

  "Mr. Christian, allow me to speak!" he begged hoarsely. "Think what you do! Release me—lay aside your arms! Let us be friends again, and I give you my word that nothing more shall be said of this matter."

  "Your word is of no value, sir," Christian replied. "Had you been a man of honour things would never have come to this pass."

  "What do you mean to do with me?"

  "Shoot you, you bloody rogue!" cried Burkitt, shaking his musket at him.

  "Shooting's too good for him! Seize him up at the gratings, Mr. Christian! Give us a chance at him with the cat!"

  "That's it! Seize him up! Give him a taste of his own poison!"

  "Flay the hide off him!"

  "Silence!" Christian called, sternly; and then, to Bligh: "We'll give you justice, sir, which is more than you have ever given us. We'll take you in irons to England..."

  A dozen protesting voices interrupted him.

  "To England? Never! We won't have it, Mr. Christian!"

  Immediately the deck was again in an uproar, all the mutineers clamouring against Christian's proposal. Never was the situation with respect to Bligh so critical as at that moment, and it was to his credit that he showed no sign of flinching. The men were in a savage mood, and it was touch and go as to whether he would be shot where he stood; but he glared at each of them in turn as though challenging them to do so. Luckily a diversion was created when Ellison came dashing up flourishing a bayonet. There was no real harm in this lad, but he loved mischief better than his dinner, and, being thoughtless and high-spirited, he could be counted upon to get himself into trouble whenever the opportunity presented itself. Evidently he considered joining in a mutiny nothing more than a fine lark, and he now came dancing up to Bligh with such a comical expression upon his face that the tension was relieved at once. The men broke into cheers. "Hooray, Tommy! Are you with us, lad?"

  "Let me guard him, Mr. Christian!" he cried. "I'll watch him like a cat!" He skipped up and down in front of Bligh, brandishing his weapon. "Oh, you rogue! You old villain! You'd flog us, would you? You'd stop our grog, would you? You'd make us eat grass, would you?"

  The men cheered him wildly. "Lay on, lad!" they shouted. "We'll back you! Give him a jab in the guts!"

  "You and your Mr. Samuel! A pair of swindlers, that's what you are! Cheating us out of our food! You've made a pretty penny between you! You old thief! You should be a bumboat man. I'll lay you'd make your fortune in no time!"

  It was a bitter experience for Bligh to be baited thus by the least of his seamen, but as a matter of fact nothing more fortunate for him could have happened. His life at that moment hung in the balance, and Ellison, in giving vent to his feelings, relieved the pent-up emotions of men who were not glib of speech and could express their hatred of Bligh only in action. Christian realized this, I think, and permitted Ellison to speak his mind, but he soon cut him short and put him in his place.

  "Clear the cutter!" he called. "Mr. Churchill!"

  "Aye, aye, sir!"

  "Fetch up Mr. Fryer and Mr. Purcell! Burkitt!"

  "Here, sir!"

  "You and Sumner and. Mills and Martin—stand guard here over Mr. Blight"

  Burkitt took the end of the line in one of his huge hairy fists. "We'll mind him, sir! I'll lay to that!"

  "What's your plan, Mr. Christian? We've a right to know," said Sumner. Christian turned quickly and looked at him. "Mind what you're about, Sumner!" he said quietly. "I'm master of this ship! Lively, men, with the cutter."

  Several men climbed into the boat to clear out the yams, sweet potatoes, and other ship's stores which were kept there, while others unlashed it and got ready the tackle for hoisting it over the side. Burkitt stood directly in front of Captain Bligh, holding the point of a bayonet within an inch of his breast. Sumner stood behind him with his musket at ready, and the other men on either side. Thompson excepted, they were the hardest characters among the sailors, and Bligh wisely said nothing to arouse them further. Others of the mutineers were stationed about the decks, and there were three at each of the ladderways. I wondered how the affair had been so well and secretly planned. I searched my memory, but could recall no incident of a character in the least suspicious.

  I had been so intent in watching the scene of which Bligh was the centre that I had forgotten Stewart. We had become separated, and while I was searching for him Christian saw me for the first time. He came at once to where I was standing. His voice was calm, but I could see that he was labouring under great excitement.

  "Byam, this is my affair," he said. "Not a man shall be hurt, but if any take part against us it will be at the peril of the entire ship's company. Act as you think best."

  "What do you mean to do?" I asked.

  "I would have carried Bligh to England as a prisoner. That is impossible; the men won't have it. He shall have the cutter to go where he chooses. Mr. Fryer, Hayward, Hallet, and Samuel shall go with him."

  There was no time for further talk. Churchill came up with the master and Purcell. The carpenter, as usual, was surly and taciturn. Both he and Fryer were horror-stricken at what had happened, but they were entirely self-possessed. Christian well knew that these two men would seize the first opportunity, if one presented itself, for retaking the ship, and he had them well guarded.

  "Mr. Byam, surely you are not concerned in this?" Fryer asked. "No more than yourself, sir," I replied.

  "Mr. Byam has nothing to do with it," said Christian. "Mr. Purcell..."

  Fryer interrupted him.

  "In God's name, Mr. Christian! What is it you do? Do you realize that this means the ruin of everything? Give up this madness, and I promise that we shall all make your interest our own. Only let us reach England..."

  "It is too late, Mr. Fryer," he replied, coldly. "I have been in hell for weeks past, and I mean to stand it no longer."

  "Your difficulties with Captain Bligh give you no right to bring ruin upon the rest of us."

  "Hold your tongue, sir," said Christian. "Mr. Purcell, have your men fetch up the thwarts, knees, and gear bolts for the large cutter. Churchill, let the carpenter go below to see to this. Send a guard with him."

  Purcell and Churchill went down the forward ladderway. "Do you mean to set us adrift?" Fryer asked.

  "We are no more than nine leagues from the land here," Christian replied. "In so calm a sea Mr. Bligh will have no difficulty in making it."

  "I will stay with the ship."

  "No, Mr. Fryer; you will go with Captain Bligh. Williams! Take the master to his cabin while he collects his clothes. He is to be kept there until I send word."

  Fryer requested earnestly to be allowed to remain with the vessel, but Christian well knew his reason for desiring this and would not hear to the proposal. He put an end to the matter by sending the master below.

  Purcell now returned, followed by Norman and McIntosh, his mates, carrying the gear for the cutter. Purcell came up to me at once.

  "Mr. Byam, I know that you have no hand in this business. But you are, or have been, a friend to Mr. Christian. Beg him to give Captain Bligh the launch. The cutter is rotten and will never swim to the land."

  This, I knew, was the case. The cutter was riddled with worms and leaked so badly as to be almost useless. The carpenters were to have started repairing her that same morning. Purcell would not come with me to speak of the matter, giving as a reason Christian's dislike of him. "He would not care to grant an
y request of mine," he said. "If the cutter is hoisted out, it will be almost certain death for Captain Bligh and all who are permitted to go with him."

  I wasted no time, but went to Christian at once. Several of the mutineers gathered round to hear what I had to say. Christian agreed at once. "He shall have the launch," he said. "Tell the carpenter to have his men fit her." He then called, "Leave off with the cutter, my lads! Clear the launch."'

  There were immediate protests, led by Churchill, against this new arrangement.

  "The launch, Mr. Christian?"

  "Don't let him have it, sir! The old fox'll get home in her!"

  "She's too bloody good for him!"

  There was an argument over the matter, but Christian forced his will upon the others. In fact, they made no determined stand. All were eager to be rid of the captain, and they had little reason to fear that he would ever see England again.

  The mutineers were in such complete control of the situation that Christian now gave orders for the rest of those who were not of his party to be brought on deck. Samuel, Bligh's clerk, was among the first to appear. He was anything but a favourite with the ship's cormpany, and was greeted with jeers and threats by his particular enemies. I had supposed that he would make a poor showing in such a situation. On the contrary, he acted with spirit and determination. Disregarding the insults of the sailors, he went directly to Captain Bligh to receive his orders. He was permitted to go to Bligh's cabin with John Smith, the captain's servant, to fetch up his clothes. They helped him on with his boots and trousers and laid his coat over his shoulders.

  I saw Hayward and Hallet standing aft by the rail. Hallet was crying, and both of them were in a state of great alarm. Someone touched my shoulder and I found Mr. Nelson standing beside me.

  "Well, Byam, I'm afraid that we're even farther from home than we thought. Do you know what they plan to do with us?"

  I told him the little I knew. He smiled ruefully, glancing toward the island of Tofoa, now a faint blur on the horizon.