Daylight arrived, noon came, and still there was no sign of the absentees, and in a fever of anxiety I made my way up to the fore-royal-yard, from which lofty elevation I made a careful survey of the inland district. But there was very little to see beyond a two-mile stretch of a broad, winding river dotted with tree-grown islets here and there. The country itself was so densely overgrown with bush and trees that nothing upon its surface was to be seen. As to the longboat, she was nowhere visible; but I was not much astonished at that, because, from the glimpse that I was able to catch of the river, I had very little doubt that its characteristics were precisely those of all the other rivers in that region, namely, a somewhat sluggish current of water thick with foul and fetid mud, swampy margins overgrown with mangroves, and numerous shallow, winding creeks, mangrove-bordered, discharging into it on either side; and it was highly probable that, failing to find a firm bank upon which to land along the margin of the river itself, the mutineers had proceeded in search of such a spot up one of the creeks. There were no canoes to be seen on that part of the river’s surface which was visible from my look-out, and the only suggestion of human life anywhere in the neighbourhood was to be found in what I took to be a thin, almost invisible, wreath of smoke rising above the tree tops at a spot some two miles distant. That wreath of smoke might, of course, indicate the position of the mutineers’ bivouac; but, on the other hand, it might—and I thought this far more likely—indicate the location of a native village; and if the latter suspicion should prove to be correct I could not but feel that the situation of the mutineers was one full of peril.
Having taken a careful mental note of everything that I had seen, I descended the ratlines, and, making my way aft, invited Carter, the general, and Mr Morton to join me in the main saloon, which happened just then to be vacant. When we arrived there, I told my companions what I had seen, and what I feared, and then laid before them a proposal that I should take the ship’s galley—a very fine six-oared boat—and, with my nine men, and one of the carronades mounted in the bows, go in search of the missing men. But neither the general nor Morton would hear of this for a moment. They were quite willing that a boat should be dispatched to search for the longboat and her crew if the matter could be arranged, but they very strongly protested against the idea that I and all my nine fighting men should leave the ship, which, they pointed out, would be at the mercy of the mutineers if we were to miss them and if they were to get back before us; or, possibly, which would be still worse, open to an attack from hundreds of savages should the natives by any chance have discovered us and observed our helpless predicament. I was pointing out to them that this stand which they were taking rendered the idea of a search impossible, since I considered it neither wise nor prudent to dispatch a weak search party, and that I could not dream of ordering any of my own men away upon such an expedition in the command of anyone but myself, when I heard a call on deck, and the next moment Simpson presented himself at the entrance of the saloon to say that the longboat was in sight, pulling hard for the ship, but that, so far as could be made out, there were only five men in her! Whereupon, with one accord we all dashed out on deck and made the best of our way to the topgallant-forecastle, which afforded a good view of the approaching boat. It was now a few minutes past three o’clock, ship’s time.
Arrived on the forecastle, I snatched the telescope from the hands of the look-out as he flourished the instrument toward the boat, with the remark:
“There she comes, sir, and the buckos in her seem to be in a tearin’ hurry, too. See how they’re makin’ the spray fly and the oars buckle! They’re workin’ harder just now than they’ve done for many a long day, I’ll warrant.”
Levelling the instrument upon the approaching boat, I saw that, as Simpson had informed me, there were only five men in her, who, as the look-out man had observed, were pulling as though for their lives. The boat, although a heavy one, was positively foaming through the water, and the long, stout ash oars, which the men were labouring at, bent and sprang almost to breaking point at every stroke.
“There is something very seriously wrong somewhere,” said I gravely, “and those fellows are bringing the news of it. Let them come alongside, Simpson; but muster the Sharks at the gangway to disarm those men as they come up the side, should they happen to have any weapons about them.”
Two minutes later the longboat dashed alongside, and as the men flung in their oars, the man who had been pulling bow sprang to his feet and yelled:
“Heave me a line, mates, and for God’s sake let us come aboard. We want to see Mr Carter, quick!”
“All right, my bully boy,” answered Simpson. “Here’s a line for ye; look out! But don’t you chaps be in too much of a hurry now; the orders is that you’re to come up the side one at a time. And if you’ve got any such little matter as a knife or a pistol about you, just fork it over. Thank’e! Next man,” as the man climbed inboard and without demur drew an empty pistol and his knife from his belt and handed them over.
“Now then, my lad,” said I, as the fellow faced round and confronted me, “where are the rest of the men who left this ship yesterday? Out with your story, as quick as you please.”