May i6, 1903.3 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
S 8 S 
running; but I made it a practice to go on deck very 
often, both day and night, and stand a watch "before 
the mast." I had learned to go aloft and furl and 
reef, and could take my trick at the wheel. I had 
learned that when a boy on an old river steamboat, the 
pilot there taught me to steer; and if there was no one 
around to report us I would put in an hour at a time 
steering for him while he sat behind me smoking and 
passing remarks. It was contrary to law for me to 
touch that wheel of his; I had no pilot's license. It was 
contrary to some more laws for me to do what I was 
doing on this ship; I , had no engineer's license, but 
laws were made to be broken, and they often are 
broken, I was hardly two weeks on this ship before 
I was steering her. I had to learn the compass first; 
that did not take long. Then I had to remember that 
now my tiller ropes were crossed, we steered here by a 
wheel at the stern, we had no pilot house. Next I 
would have to remember when the mate told me to 
"port my helm" to answer "port it is, sir"; and not 
cause him to have to repeat it," then break the seventh 
commandment with his mouth, and my head with a 
hand spike. 
Each member of the watch took his turn at the 
wheel; I often would take it out of my turn, then 
steer for hours while the Kanaka, who was supposed 
to be steering, lay fast asleep at my feet. The mate 
would not object to that, though; it saved him trouble. 
If he Avanted to know "how her head was," I could 
tell him, "Nor'west by west, sir; half west." If the 
Kanaka was steering the mate would have to find out 
how her head was himself. 
So now the next morning, when the "dog watch" 
was called I went on deck with it, and found the ship 
hove to. The third mate, whose watch we relieved, 
said he had hove to at 6 bells, that is three o'clock. 
It was now four, and according to the mate's reckon- 
ing we should be close in to the island. There is no 
light on it, and he might go ashore on it in the dark; 
or what was more likely, might pass it and not know 
it.. 
It was quite dark yet, but after we had been on 
deck a while I went up to the main crosstrees to see 
if I could see anything of the island. I thought I 
saw it, but was not sure, and told the mate that I 
thought it was off our port quarter, about six miles 
away. 
"That is where it should be," he told me, "but we 
will wait until it gets lighter." 
While we were waiting the mate and I compared 
notes as to what each of us knew of the Mutiny of the 
Bounty. The only account of the mutinj'^ that I had 
ever seen was this one that had been given me when 
a boy by Mr. Anderson, and I think it was the only 
one that was ever written. This account had been 
written by an English lady, who had got her version 
of it from the officers themselves; she had no chance 
then to get the men's side of the story, and from her 
comments on what she did get I do not suppose she 
would have given their side of the story even if she 
had it. 
I do not believe that there has been a successful 
mutiny on shipboard since the time of the buccaneers, 
but that the officers were the most to blame for it; 
for if the ship has a good set of officers there are al- 
ways enough men who don't want to mutiny to stand 
bv these officers and put a mutiny down in short order. 
I can imagine about how long a mutiny would last 
on board a ship commanded by this old captain of 
ours, or by any one of the five mates he had here; and 
four at least of these five mates could command any 
ship afloat. It might last ten minutes, or until I had 
got my magazine open and had passed out pistols to 
the part of the crew that did not want to mutiny. 
After that there would be no more mutiny — not on this 
ship. But we are forgetting all about the Mutiny of 
the Bounty. In 1787 the British ship Bounty, Lieu- 
tenant Bligh, with a crew of about 70 men, was scut 
from England on a three-years' voyage among the 
South Pacific islands. They had orders to leave hogs 
and goats on some of the islands for the use of ship- 
wrecked men, and to collect seeds and bread fruit 
trees to be planted on the West India Islands. They 
sailed around Cape Horn and visited a number of the 
islands and had been out about 18 months when the 
mutiny took place. 
Bligh was, from all accounts, a very tyrannical offi- 
cer, who was always quarreling with his men; and he 
seemed to have a quarrel on hand at all times with one 
or more of his petty officers, the very men he should 
have kept friendly with. Fletcher Christian, the 
boatswain, took offense at something Bligh had done 
to him and headed the mutiny. 
They surprised Bligh in his cabin, and tying him 
with ropes, brought him on deck, and lowering two of 
the small boats, put him, his officers' and 18 of the 
crew who refused to join the mutiny, in them, then 
giving them five days' rations but no arms, sent them 
adrift. 
Bligh tried to appeal to his crew, asking them to re- 
lease him and return to their duty, promising to treat 
them better hereafter and not to lay this affair up 
against them; but Christian told him that he was in 
command of the Bounty now, and that Bligh should 
do all his talking to him. 
Bligh again addressed the crew, and Christian now 
shoved a musket in the lieutenant's face, telling him 
to leave or be shot. They sailed forty-three days on 
their five days' rations, but got water and a few berries 
on some rocky islands they touched at; rode out one 
storm lying to, using their masts, sails and oars for a 
sea anchor; and at last made land at Timor, 3,500 miles 
from where they had been sent adrift, losing only one 
man on the whole voyage, he being killed' when they 
were trying to land at one of the rocky islands. This 
was probably the longest voyage ever made in ship's 
boats, and only Englishmen or ourselves could have 
made it and come out of it alive. 
In the meantime the crew took the Bounty to the 
Society Islands, where part of them stayed and were 
afterward arrested, brought home to England, tried 
and let go. It is not generally known, at least I have 
never seen any mention of it, but I found out while I 
was among the Society Islands, that some of these men 
had come back here after being released at home 
and had lived and died here. Their descendants are 
here yet. I formed the acquaintance of a number of 
boys who were the great-grandsons of these men. These 
boys were of a lighter color than the rest of the 
natives; they spoke English, and some of tliem could 
both read and write it, though their fathers could not; 
the boys had been taught by a missionary. The father 
of one of the boys was the chief of his island, his 
boy was anxious to go to the "white man's country." 
I started to take him there, but the captain vetoed it — 
but of this later on. 
The men who still stayed on the Bounty next took 
her to Otaheite, the largest of the islands, and here 
took on board twenty native women and a dozen native 
men, then sailed back to Pitcairn's Island; and here, 
after they had broken up and burned the Bounty, they 
built huts on shore and took possession of the island, 
there being no other people on it. For the next few 
years they lived in peace; then the black men mutinied 
in their turn and killed Christian and several others. 
Then the rest of the white men with the help of their 
native women, killed off all the black men. 
There were only four of the white men left now. 
They were Adams, Young and McCoy and another 
whose name I have forgotten; he has no descendants 
on the island now, the others have. 
A year or two after this McCoy made whisky out of 
corn that they raised; but he drank so much of it that 
it killed him. Then old John Adams, who had really 
been the head of the mutiny, for he had furnished the 
brains while Christian had done the work, took charge 
of the island's affairs; he poured out all the whisky 
and forbade any more to be made; built a chapel and 
school for the children who were growing up, and 
brought order out of what had been before this but 
little better than a colony of savages. Nothing was 
heard of the people for many years; it was not known 
in England where the men were. When these islands 
out here had been searched for the mutineers, Pit- 
cairn's Island had not been visited; its existence was 
known, but it had never had any natives on it and 
was thought not fit to live on; so they did not waste 
time searching it. 
In r8o8 the American whaler Topaz, Captain Folger, 
called here. He and others knew of the island, but no 
one had been here for years. When the Topaz was 
still several miles out at sea, it was met by a number 
of small boats that were manned by white men and 
boys, who, mtich to Captain Folger's surprise, hailed 
him in English and bade him welcome. 
Old John Adams was still on deck. He had his 
school for the children and was holding church ser- 
vices, using the Episcopal ritual. The people were still 
good church men when I was there, but since then I 
believe, some missionary has got hold of them and 
"converted" them to some other denomination. Had 
I remained on the island, as the old governor wanted 
me to do, I should have directed that missionary to 
slide out to some of the other islands, where he was 
needed more; he was not needed there. 
When Captain Folger got home, he reported where 
the people were, and a British man-of-war was sent 
to the island. John Adams was the only one of the 
mutineers alive, and he asked to be left to die here. 
They let him remain, and he died years after, a very 
old man. 
This was all I knew of this affair then, but after I 
had seen the island I was curious to find out what had 
become of Bligh. I knew that he had not died a vice 
admiral. The captain had a small library in his cabin 
that he let us use, and going to it I got an English 
encyclopedia, and on looking in it for Bligh I found 
him. After h^ had got home offer losing the Bounty, 
they gave him another ship and sent him back after 
those bread-fruit trees; and this time he got them 
and got home without having had another mutiny. A 
few years after this, when England was at war with 
Spain, he was given another ship. The crew of this 
one mutinied, and taking him and the ship into a 
French port turned both over to the enemy. He 
never got another ship, but a year or two after this 
he was sent to govern a colony in Australia. In a 
year lie had got to be so tyrannical that they threw 
him into prison; and while he was waiting for his 
trial he died. 
While the mate and I were telling each other what 
we knew of the mutiny, it had been getting lighter all 
the time, and now the island could be seen from the 
deck. It was just where I thought I had seen it, so 
now we squared away for it. It was now six o'clock 
and time to call the watch. The dog watch that we 
were on only stands two hours, the others stand four. 
The new watch came on deck with the fifth mate, Mr. 
Watson, in charge of it. We were standing right down 
to the island with all sails set; on most vessels the 
light sails would have been taken in by this time, but 
we carried such a large crew, each watch of ours being 
as large as most crews are, that we generally waited 
until the last minute before doing any thing. There 
was plenty of time yet, but Watson, when he saw how 
close in he was, started in to do half a dozen things 
at once as was usual with him. He sent a man for- 
ward to heave the lead, had the courses brailed up, 
the light sails taken in, and the anchors cleared to let 
got; and "all this time the leadsman could find no bot- 
tom. 
There was one thing he did not do, though, that I 
wondered at, he had not sent up his colors yet. 
The captain made it a rule to fly his colors on Sun- 
day, no matter where we were, and we were going into 
port now, and on Sunday, too, and they should be up, 
I knew that if the captain should come on deck about 
the first thing he would miss would be those colors, 
and then Watson would hear about them. So when 
he had at last stopped his "Stand by" long enough to 
take breath and think of what he wanted stood by 
next (every order given on ship board is prefaced by 
"Stand by!" it means attention), I said, "You have 
not got your ensign up yet, sir; shall I send it up?" 
"Yes, please do, I forgot it. Lucky the old man is 
not up yet." 
The colors were down in the captain's cabin, and 
going down there I found that he was up, and telling 
him that I had come for the colors I went to the 
signal locker to get them. 
We had a number of our own flags here, a set of 
foreign ones, and under all of them a large new one 
that we seldom used; I got it out and taking it on 
deck bent it on and sent it up just as Watson was sing- 
ing out, "Stand by to let go your anchors, let go!" 
We anchored within 500 yards of shore, letting go 
both anchors. The watch had the deck to wash down 
and an awning to put up. I had nothing to do, but re- 
inained on deck, seated on the rail looking at the 
island. _ Nobody seemed to be stirring on it yet. I 
could just see the village back behind the trees that 
lined the beach. 
After a while a man came down to the beach and 
put a canoe into the water, then paddled out to us, 
coming alongside, just under where I was seated. He 
was a rather old man and was dressed in a shirt and 
pair of trousers of native cloth, with a red cotton 
handkerchief around his neck, but no hat nor shoes. 
Looking up at me he asked, "What ship is this?" 
I told him. 
"Is she a whale ship?" 
"Yes, sir, she is an American whaler." 
"She is a big one, though," he says, looking at her 
from stem to stern. 
"Yes, sir, she is the largest one in the trade now." 
I began to think that I had the governor of the island 
here, and invited him to board us. He paddled for- 
ward, and the mate had his watch open the hatch, and 
I helped the old fellow on board just as Captain Will- 
iams came on deck. He walked forward, and taking 
the old man by the hand says, "I am glad to see you 
again, Governor." 
"And I am glad' to see you among us once more. 
Captain Williams; you have a fine ship this time, sir. 
I took it to be one of your men-of-war when I first 
saw it; but your young man here tells me it is a 
whaler." 
"Yes, I am not commanding men-of-war now. The 
war is over, you know." 
Captain Williams had commanded a naval vessel in 
the War of_ the Rebellion; he ranked as commander 
then, and tried to act like one yet; this was why some 
men did not like him. 
The captain and the governor walked back now, and 
taking seats under the awning, held a long confab. 
At last they came forward to where I was standing 
leaning against the foremast fife rail, and the first 
thing I heard the governor say was, "Well, Captain, 
to-day is Sunday." 
Yes, the captain believed it was. 
"Yes, it is. Sunday, and now I don't want any trad- 
ing done to-day; but if there is anything you want 
for your crew, tell me and I will send it off." 
No, there was nothing the captain wanted very badly, 
he had just called in to see how they were getting 
along. 
"Well, now that you are here, you most remain with 
us a few days, won't you?" 
Yes, the captain wanted to give his topmasts an 
overhauling; he would be here for several days. 
"Then I can send you off plenty of fresh vegetables 
to-morrow?" 
"Yes, send them off, and in the meantime I will see 
my steward and find out what he can let you have; I 
don't suppose you want anything loaded to-day?" 
No, to-morrow would be soon enough; he never 'had 
anything done on Sunday that he could possibly help. 
The steward came on deck to call the captain to 
breakfast; he asked the old governor down, too; but 
he would not go; he had eaten his breakfast long ago, 
he said. Then turning to me as the captain left him, 
he asked, "Have you any Englishmen on board?" 
"No, sir; we are all Americans here. Captain 'Will- 
iams won't carry a foreigner in his crew." 
One of our big bare-footed Kanakas walked past us 
just then; and the governor, pointing to him, said, 
"You don't call him an American, do you?" 
"Oh, yes; or at least he will be one of us as soon 
as we take in his islands; those fellows will make good 
enough Americans." 
"Are you going to take the islands?" 
"Yes, just as soon as England or Germany makes a 
move to take them; then we will. We need them our- 
selves then; we don't need them before that though." 
"The captain tells me that he has a fine crew here." 
"Yes, sir, we are a pretty civil lot, that is for sailors; 
we try to be gentlemen; when we go ashore you won't 
have to call on j^our police to keep us in order." 
"Oh! I have no police, nor any whisky, either." 
"That we don't Avant. This is a temperance ship; it 
has got to be while Captain Williams sails it." 
The old fellow laughed, then turning to the white 
members of the watch who stood near, he said, "Gen- 
tlemen, I welcome you all to our island, I am the gov- 
ernor here; when you come ashore call on me, I have 
church up in my chapel at three o'clock to-day, I would 
like to see as many of you there as can come; you 
will come, won't you?" 
"Yes, governor; I mean to call on you to-day if I 
can get ashore. I have come many thousand miles 
just to see your island. I read about it when I was a 
small boy and have been trying to visit it ever since." 
The governor left us, and had not been ashore more 
than ten minutes before his boat came off again with a 
younger man, who had it loaded with fresh pork, yams, 
dressed chickens and a basket of eggs. He said that 
these were for the captain's dinner. The steward was 
called, and he and I helped to get the stuff out of the 
boat; then the man was about to shove off. 
"Hold on," I told him, "don't go yet. You must 
come down and take breakfast with us." 
He hung back and did not want to board us, but I 
at last got him to come and took him down to break- 
fast, which was ready. Our mess was made up of the 
petty officers, the engineers, steward and boat steerers, 
and I seated our visitor with us. He told us that about 
one ship a year called, and ours was the first one that 
had been here in a year on which they spoke English. 
A French man-of-war had been the last ship to ca.ll. 
