James Norman Hall - The Mutiny on the Bounty - Complete Trilogy

Between ten and eleven Bligh came on deck to leave his orders for the night. He paced up and down the quarter-deck for some time, paying no attention to anyone. Presently he stopped near Fryer, who ventured to say: “Sir, I think we shall have a fine breeze by and by. This moon coming on will be fortunate for us when we approach the coast of New Holland.”

“Yes, Mr. Fryer, so it will,” he replied. A few minutes later he gave his orders as to the course to be steered, and returned to his cabin.

Fryer’s prediction of wind was not to be fulfilled. At midnight, when our watch went off duty, the sea was like a mill pond, with a glassy sheen upon the water, reflecting the Southern constellations. Going below, I found it much too hot for sleep. Tinkler and I came on deck together and stood for a while by the rail aft, talking of home and what we would choose for our first meal on shore. Presently, looking around cautiously, he said: “Byam, do you know that I am a double-dyed villain? I stole one of Mr. Bligh’s missing coconuts.”

“So it’s you we have to thank for our dressing-down, you little rascal,” I replied.

“Alas, yes. I’m one of the damned rogues and thieves. I could tell you the names of two others, but I forbear. We were thirsty and too lazy to go to the main top for the gun barrel. And there were the coconuts, such a tempting sight, a great heap of them between the guns on the quarter-deck. I wish they were there now; I’d steal another. There’s nothing more refreshing than coconut water. Curse old Nelson’s breadfruit garden! It keeps a man thirsty all the time.”

We were all, in fact, envious of our breadfruit plants. Whatever happened, they had to be watered regularly, and in order to cut down the amount drunk by the ship’s company Bligh had thought of a very excellent and ingenious arrangement to prevent us from quenching our thirst too often. Any man who wanted a drink had first to climb to the main top to fetch a gun barrel left there. He then climbed down with this to the scuttle butt, outside the galley, inserted the gun barrel into the bunghole, and, having sucked up his drink, he was required to carry the drinking tube to the main top again. No man, no matter how thirsty he might be, was permitted to make more than two of these gun-barrel climbs during his watch, and a lazy man did without his drink until thirst got the better of him.

“God be thanked! For once I wasn’t suspected,” Tinkler went on. “How do you explain that? If he had asked me I should have denied, of course, that I’d had anything to do with his rotten coconuts. But I’m afraid my guilty conscience might have given me away this time. I was so damned sorry for Christian.”

“Did Christian know that you had taken some of the nuts?”

“Not some—only one, mind you! As I’ve told you, there were fellow conspirators. Of course he did. In fact, he saw me do it and looked the other way, as any decent officer was bound to do. It wasn’t as though we were endangering the safety of the vessel. Four coconuts missing, that’s all—I give you my word. Four out of how many thousands? And I was responsible for only one. Well, if I sleep over my sins, perhaps they won’t seem so black to-morrow.”

Tinkler was like the ship’s cat; he could curl up anywhere for a nap. He now lay down by one of the quarter-deck guns, with his arm for a pillow, and, as I thought, was soon fast asleep.

It was then about one o’clock, and with the exception of the watch there was no one on deck but Tinkler and myself. Mr. Peckover was standing at the rail on the opposite side of the deck. I could make out his form dimly in the starlight. Someone appeared at the after ladderway. It was Christian. After half a dozen turns up and down the deck, he observed me standing between the guns.

“Oh, it’s you, Byam?” He came and stood beside me, his elbows on the rail. I had not seen him since the affair of the afternoon.

At length he asked, “Did you know that he had invited me to sup with him? Why? Can you tell me that? After spitting on me, wiping his feet on me, he sent Samuel to ask me to eat at his table!”

“You didn’t go?”

“After what had happened? God in heaven, no!”

I had never before seen a man in a mood of such black despair. He seemed at the last extremity of endurance. I was glad to be there, to be of service as a confidant, for it was plain that he was in desperate need of unburdening himself. That Bligh should have asked him to supper was, in truth, all but incredible, after the events of the afternoon. I suggested that it might be taken as evidence of an unsuspected delicacy of conscience in Bligh, but I believed this no more than did Christian himself.

“We’re in his power. Officers and men alike, he considers us so many dogs to be kicked or fondled according to his whim. And there can be no relief. None. Not till we reach England. God knows when that will be!”

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.

Table of Contents

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.