[1] It is to this that Mr. Nobbs referred when, many years later, in his song entitled “Pitcairn,” he speaks of the “ghost that still lingers on Tullaloo’s Ridge.” Tullaloo was the man’s name.
When some degree of peace had been restored, and the suspicions of their masters were quieted, the wronged and oppressed Tahitians, obtaining possession of arms, fell upon the white men while they were quietly working on their allotments of land, and hunted and shot them down. Fletcher Christian, John Mills, Isaac Martin, William Brown, and John Williams were killed. William McCoy and Matthew Quintall escaped into the woods, while John Adams, having at first escaped into the woods, on again showing himself, was shot and severely wounded. Recovering himself, he ran away from his pursuers, and, making for the rocky cliffs, would have thrown himself off, but those in pursuit, by sundry signs, showed that they intended no further harm. Being thus reassured of his safety, he returned with them to one of the houses, where he was kindly treated. Edward Young, a favorite with the women, had been concealed by them, and so escaped the dangers to which the others had been exposed. Thus were the lives of four among the nine mutineers spared. But peace was not yet to be. How was it possible, when the men and women that remained practiced freely every vice that could degrade manhood and womanhood. Treachery and bloodshed still raged among them, and no one felt his life secure.
THE LANDING PLACE, BOUNTY BAY.
A story is told of how the death of one of the native men was accomplished. It was before anyone had been killed. The man, called by the name of Timiti, had been accused of some wrongdoing, and was brought before the Englishmen to be tried. Christian, so the story goes, was, while trying the case, walking backward and forward through the midst of the assembled company met to see the result of the trial. Timiti, learning only too well that his sentence would be death, took the opportunity when Christian was in the act of turning himself around, to make a spring for the open door. Before his judges could recover from their surprise, he was too far on his way to be readily overtaken, and his pursuers were obliged to return without him. Taking a short cut down towards the sea, he speedily descended the steep cliffs, and ran across the rocky shore. Swimming across places where no footpath could be found, and walking the rest of the way, he at length reached a place on the south side of the island known by the name of Taowtama. Here he succeeded in hiding himself for a while, until someone descried him from the heights above, engaged in a favorite pastime, called ihara (pronounced e-hurra).
The news soon spread that Timiti’s hiding place was discovered, and another native, named Menálee, was sent out to secure him. One of his companions also went with him, and before long they were at the place. Timiti, suspecting treachery, would have fled, but the two men, through their fair speeches and the food they had brought him, quickly disarmed him of his suspicions. To further assure him they produced a comb, and prevailed on him to let them comb his hair. Having thus decoyed him into their power, the rest was easy enough, and a few seconds sufficed to dispatch the poor fellow.
After the massacre of Christian and his companions the native men turned upon one another, and the four remaining Englishmen, assisted by the widows of the murdered white men, joined in ridding the island of these “disturbers of the peace,” so that in a short time after the mutineers had been killed every one of the native men was also put to death.
During the occurrence of these shocking scenes, how must every human impulse and every kindly feeling have been nearly extinguished! To add to the dreadful evils that were committed, McCoy, who had been brought up in a distillery, spent much of his time in distilling ardent spirits from the roots of the tee plant. Quintall assisted him, his “teakettle being converted into a still.” These two men succeeded but too well. Drunkenness was added to the already long list of vices, and was of frequent occurrence. In McCoy’s case it brought its own punishment, for in an attack of delirium he made his way to the rocky shore, and, fastening a stone around his body, cast himself off into the sea. The dead body was found by a little girl, a daughter of John Adams, and was brought up to the little settlement and buried.
Quintall, McCoy’s boon companion, met his death at the hands of his two remaining shipmates. Always disorderly and troublesome, provoking a quarrel whenever he could, and frequently threatening the lives of Young and Adams, he became a constant terror to them. As an instance of his ferocious nature, the story is handed down that one day his wife went out fishing, and, not succeeding in obtaining enough to satisfy Quintall, he punished her by biting off her ear.[2] Like Williams, he also lost his wife, and in the same way, she having fallen from the rocks when going after birds. Regardless of the fearful consequences which so quickly followed a crime of the same nature only a short time before, Quintall demanded the wife of one of his two remaining companions. Their refusal to comply with his demands determined him to try to put his oft-repeated threats into execution. Adams and Young, knowing their lives to be in danger, felt themselves justified in putting an end to Quintall’s life.