But though the new colony was so small, it had in it all the seeds of dissension and of unhappiness. Even these nine men, though bound together by a common fate and by a common fear, could not agree, could not bear with nor yield to each other in any of the little differences or misunderstandings which arose between them from time to time. Still less could they live in peace with the natives who had accompanied them. They looked on these poor men and women as their slaves, and treated them so unjustly that the Tahitians, who had at first been attached and faithful, now determined on revenge. They were as much less guilty than the English as they were more ignorant; they had never been taught to be merciful, to forgive injuries, to be patient under wrongs; the blessed name of Jesus was not familiar to their ears, nor the lessons of His life and death to their hearts. They knew no law but that of violence and might, and finding themselves unjustly treated by those who had promised to be their friends, they formed a plot to put them all to death, and so to make themselves masters of the island.
Five out of the nine Englishmen were shot, and amongst them was their leader, Fletcher Christian. Ever since he had come to Pitcairn’s Island, he had appeared sunk in sorrow and remorse. All day long he had remained hidden among the rocks, away from his comrades, his eyes fastened on the wide ocean, the barrier which he knew must now divide him for ever from his home and from all he loved. In this solitude his companion was the Bible, brought on shore by him from the ship. In this he was observed to be often reading, and though we know nothing of his thoughts nor of his prayers, it may be that God spake through His word to the heart of His erring child, and bade him, not in vain, to seek His face once more.
Let us hope that this Bible charged with such a blessed mission in years to come, was sent also with a message to this desolate heart, and that ere he died, Christian had sought and found the forgiveness which is given through the cross of Christ our Saviour. Some sign of his repentance may be found in a tradition handed down by the islanders, that he had given orders that everyone on the island should repeat each noontide the prayer of the returning and repentant prodigal: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.”
Four white men had been saved by the interference of the Tahitian women from the fate of their comrades, but they did not feel safe; they believed that the men were still seeking their lives, and, as they imagined, in self-defence, they determined to put these their enemies to death. Thus the evil begun by the mutiny still went on from crime to crime, seeming to grow ever deeper and wider. For the dark and terrible story is not yet ended. Two of the four remaining Englishmen soon after came to a violent end, while intoxicated by a drink which they had contrived to make from some of the plants which they found on the island, thus bringing into this lovely refuge the vice and drunkenness which beset crowded cities.
The sorrowful tale has hitherto been all dark, ever growing more gloomy and hopeless; but now for the first time a faint pencil of light, like the first streak of dawn, marks the sky, a ray which, like all true sunshine, comes from heaven and from God. The great and loving Father had not forgotten the children who had so long forgotten Him; this little island, so far from the eyes of human watchers was not unseen nor unregarded by Him. His messengers, the books which tell of Him, were still there, though forgotten and unread; but the time was now come when they were to speak again, and were to be heard and obeyed.
The two remaining mutineers were a sailor named Alexander Smith, or, as he now called himself, John Adams, and a midshipman named Edward Young. The midshipman had been well educated, and had learnt above all, in his childhood, the blessed lessons of God’s love, and of the grace of Christ. These lessons, too long unremembered, now came back to him. Perhaps he thought of the days when, a young child, he had knelt at his mother’s knee, or standing by her chair, had read one by one, as her finger slowly pointed them out, the words of the Holy Bible.
The good seed had lain long in a barren soil, now God in His mercy sent the rain and sunshine of His grace to cause it to spring up at last. No sooner had Edward Young begun to desire to return to the Saviour whom he had left, than he also wished that those around him should be taught of His love. The helpless women and children were, he felt, a sacred charge for him and his companion, to teach and guide.
Accordingly morning and evening prayers were established in the island, and a sort of school was begun for the children, John Adams being partly a teacher, partly a scholar, and so preparing to take his comrade’s work when, a little time after this change of heart and life, Edward Young died, and left his comrade alone on the island with his untaught charge. He, the only one who had the key to God’s book, the only one in whose memory were stored any lessons of His truth, in whose life lay, as it seemed, the only hope that this little colony might be saved from all the cruelty and ignorance of savage life, and added to the number of the servants of Christ.
Nearly twenty-five years had passed since John Adams was left on Pitcairn’s Island, the sole protector and teacher of the women, and of the young children who were growing up around him. He was himself but a common sailor, who had enjoyed only a few advantages of education, his only acquirements the simple lessons which had been taught him in his boyhood, and a new but straightforward and earnest desire to serve God in the way which God should teach him, and in penitence and faith to walk himself and to lead others to walk in the way that leads to everlasting life.