One day Talaloo’s wife went, with some of the other women, to the southern side of the island to fish from the rocks. They were soon busily at work. The lines used had been made by themselves from the fibrous husk of the cocoa-nut. The hooks had been brought on shore from the Bounty. Chattering and laughing with the free-and-easy gaiety of savages, they plied their work—it seemed more like play—with varying success.
Suddenly the wife of Talaloo heard a faint hiss behind her. Turning her head, she saw her former husband in the bushes. He beckoned to her, and disappeared. None of the other women appeared to have heard or observed the man. Presently, Talaloo’s wife rose, and going into the woods, joined her husband. She found him in company with Timoa.
“Is Talaloo become a dog that he should be driven to live in the bush?” demanded the man, with a stern air.
“The white men are strong,” answered his wife, with a subdued look; “the women can do nothing.”
“You can stay with me here in the bush if you will,” said Talaloo. “The white men are strong, but we are stronger. We will kill the white men.”
He turned with an air of offended dignity, and strode away. His wife meekly followed, and Timoa went with them.
Now, there was one woman among the fishers whose eyes were sharp and her hearing was keen.
This was Susannah, the wife of the midshipman Edward Young. She had followed Talaloo’s wife, saw what occurred, and carried back a report to the settlement. A council of war was at once held.
“If we leave these men at liberty,” said Williams, “we shall never again be able to go to rest in security.”
“Something must be done,” said Christian, with the air of a man whose mind wanders far away from the subject in hand.