Rough hew them how we will.”
The following day we spoke the “John Wells,” of New Bedford, Captain Cross. He reported that a mutiny had occurred on board the “William Penn,” by which Captain Hussey had been murdered by a Kanaka. The murder was committed about 4 A.M. Captain H. was in the vicinity of some of the islands of the Group, and, while engaged in looking over the “weather rail” for land, a Kanaka boat-steerer seized a spade and darted it through him, killing him almost instantly. The body was immediately thrown overboard, and the gang (seven or eight of the crew), led by the Kanaka, commenced their murderous work. They killed the steward and cook, severely wounded the mate and second mate, and then, seemingly actuated by some merciful freak, stopped their bloody performances, and promised to leave the vessel quietly if the officers would allow them to take what they wanted. This request was readily granted, as the peaceable portion of the crew and officers were but too willing to have them leave. They accordingly took a boat, and steered for Sydenham’s Island, where the ringleader belonged. The Kanaka took with him a large sum of money belonging to Captain Hussey, and he had not been on shore twenty-four hours ere he was shot by a beachcomber to obtain possession of it. Thus we see the scoundrel met with his deserts.
Captain Hussey also met with the same fate that he consigned one of his own crew to. He murdered his fellow-man in cold blood, and he, in his turn, died a violent death.
The reader must not think, from reading these scenes of violence and murder, that they were continually occurring in this part of our globe. On the contrary, the natives there are generally well-disposed and peaceable; but at this time the islands were thronged with miserable beachcombers—men whose only object and desire appeared to be blood and plunder. The majority of them were escaped convicts from New South Wales, and a more bloodthirsty set of villains never went unhung.
We were now nearly forty months from home, and we found it necessary to prolong the voyage another season. To do this, however, we must have more provisions (bread, meat, and flour) than we now had on board. These could be obtained more advantageously at Hong Kong than at any other port, and our captain accordingly determined to steer for that port. On Sunday, January 16th, spoke her majesty’s brig of war “Serpent,” S. W. Hammett, acting commander. Captain H. inquired very particularly concerning the late transactions at Pleasant Island. On taking his leave, he expressed his determination to proceed to the Group, visit all the islands, and rid them of the rascally beachcombers that infested them.
We touched at the island of Rota, one of the Ladrones, on Tuesday, January 25th, and procured a quantity of fruit, hogs, etc. Among the animals was a ferocious wild boar, which the natives had captured on the mountains. He was securely fastened when brought on board, but, as no one knew he was wild, the thongs were cut, and he was set at liberty. This was no sooner done than he made a rush at some of the men, who fled in double-quick time. Turning, he played the same game on another group, until he had complete possession of the deck, all hands taking to their heels, clambering into the rigging, on to the rail, water-butt, and any place that was the most convenient, without stopping to ask questions. Here was a fix—a wild boar had succeeded in taking the ship! His swinish majesty appeared to enjoy the fun hugely, going about the decks making such observations as suited him best, and driving the other porkers around at his pleasure. Once, however, he over-shot his mark. The cook, ensconced in his galley, with both doors closed, felt secure, and would occasionally push one of them ajar and take a look. Porkey finally discovered this move, and, thinking it an unwarrantable intrusion upon his rights, raised his bristles, showed his teeth, and made for the old doctor. Seeing him coming, the old darkey seized a dipper of scalding-water from his copper, and, as Mr. Hog approached within proper distance, bristling for the fight, gave it to him between the eyes. This was too much for his lordship, and a mode of warfare which he least expected. He did not pay the doctor a second visit alive. A number of plans were now devised for his capture—among the rest, that of lassoing him. Portuguese Manuel, who knew all about managing wild hogs, as he said, volunteered to go down upon deck and slip a running bowline over his head. No sooner, however, did his feet touch the deck, than the boar, seemingly mistrusting his evil designs, rushed after him. Away went Manuel, yelling for dear life, with the boar close at his heels. He finally succeeded in mounting the rail, and, thinking the boar still in close pursuit, kept on ascending the rigging with all possible speed, until the mate cried out, and asked him “where he was going?” On hearing this, Manuel looked about him, and, seeing the boar still on deck, descended to the rail, his hair erect, countenance pale (for a Portuguese)—in fact, frightened out of his wits. The crew, scattered about on the rail and in the rigging, presented a truly laughable sight: one or two with their countenances exhibiting the strongest emotions of fear; others with their faces expanded by a broad grin; some cursing the Spaniards for bringing off a “wild boar;” others looking at it as an excellent joke, and laughing heartily at the whole affair. After some time spent in manœuvring, a bowline was slipped over his head, when he was soon choked down, dispatched, and placed in the hands of the cook.
About the 1st of February we experienced a very heavy gale. We were obliged to take our boats in on deck, heave-to, and secure things generally. The steward, not having taken this precaution in regard to his crockery, etc., found it suddenly coming through the pantry door as the ship gave a sudden lurch. The floor was finely strewed with broken dishes, tea, coffee, molasses, and sundry other articles, gloriously mixed in one heterogeneous mass.
On Sunday, February 6th, we sighted Gad’s Rock; also the southern point of the island of Formosa. The next morning the northern Bashee Islands were in sight, bearing W.N.W. Found our reckoning to be latitude 21° 27´ N., longitude 121° 31´ E.