20. CHAPTER XX.
THE ROUND ROBIN.—VISITORS FROM SHORE.
After the captain left, the land-breeze died away; and, as
is usual about these islands, toward noon it fell a dead calm.
There was nothing to do but haul up the courses, run down
the jib, and lay and roll upon the swells. The repose of the
elements seemed to communicate itself to the men; and for a
time, there was a lull.
Early in the afternoon, the mate, having left the captain at
Papeetee, returned to the ship. According to the steward, they
were to go ashore again right after dinner with the remainder
of Guy's effects.
On gaining the deck, Jermin purposely avoided us, and went
below without saying a word. Meanwhile, Long Ghost and
I labored hard to diffuse the right spirit among the crew;
impressing upon them that a little patience and management
would, in the end, accomplish all that their violence could; and
that, too, without making a serious matter of it.
For my own part, I felt that I was under a foreign flag; that
an English consul was close at hand, and that sailors seldom
obtain justice. It was best to be prudent. Still, so much did
I sympathize with the men, so far, at least, as their real grievances
were concerned; and so convinced was I of the cruelty and
injustice of what Captain Guy seemed bent upon, that if need
were, I stood ready to raise a hand.
In spite of all we could do, some of them again became most
refractory, breathing nothing but downright mutiny. When we
went below to dinner, these fellows stirred up such a prodigious
tumult that the old hull fairly echoed. Many, and fierce too,
were the speeches delivered, and uproarious the comments of
the sailors. Among others, Long Jim, or—as the doctor afterward
called him—Lacedæmonian Jim, rose in his place, and
addressed the forecastle parliament in the following strain:
“Look ye, Britons! if, after what's happened, this there craft
goes to sea with us, we are no men; and that's the way to say
it. Speak the word, my livelies, and I'll pilot her in. I've
been to Tahiti before, and I can do it.” Whereupon, he sat
down amid a universal pounding of chest-lids, and cymbaling
of tin pans; the few invalids, who, as yet, had not been actively
engaged with the rest, now taking part in the applause, creaking
their bunk-boards and swinging their hammocks. Cries
also were heard, of “Handspikes and a shindy!” “Out stunsails!”
“Hurrah!”
Several now ran on deck, and, for the moment, I thought it
was all over with us; but we finally succeeded in restoring some
degree of quiet.
At last, by way of diverting their thoughts, I proposed that
a “Round Robin” should be prepared and sent ashore to the
consul, by Baltimore, the cook. The idea took mightily, and
I was told to set about it at once. On turning to the doctor for
the requisite materials, he told me he had none; there was not
a fly-leaf, even, in any of his books. So, after great search, a
damp, musty volume, entitled “A History of the most Atrocious
and Bloody Piracies,” was produced, and its two remaining
blank leaves being torn out, were, by help of a little pitch,
lengthened into one sheet. For ink, some of the soot over the
lamp was then mixed with water, by a fellow of a literary turn;
and an immense quill, plucked from a distended albatros' wing,
which, nailed against the bowsprit bitts, had long formed an
ornament of the forecastle, supplied a pen.
Making use of the stationery thus provided, I indited upon a
chest-lid, a concise statement of our grievances; concluding
with the earnest hope, that the consul would at once come off,
and see how matters stood, for himself. Right beneath the note
was described the circle about which the names were to be
written; the great object of a Round Robin being to arrange
the signatures in such a way, that, although they are all found
in a ring, no man can be picked out as the leader of it.
Few among them had any regular names; many answering
to some familiar title, expressive of a personal trait; or oftener
still, to the name of the place from which they hailed; and in
one or two cases were known by a handy syllable or two, significant
of nothing in particular but the men who bore them.
Some, to be sure, had, for the sake of formality, shipped under
a feigned cognomen, or “Purser's name;” these, however,
were almost forgotten by themselves; and so, to give the
document an air of genuineness, it was decided that every
man's name should be put down as it went among the crew.
The annexed, therefore, as nearly as I can recall it, is something
like a correct representation of the signatures. It is due
the doctor, to say, that the circumscribed device was his.
Folded, and sealed with a drop of tar, the Round Robin was
directed to “The English Consul, Tahiti;” and, handed to the
cook, was by him delivered into that gentleman's hands as soon
as the mate went ashore.
On the return of the boat, some time after dark, we learned
a good deal from old Baltimore, who, having been allowed to
run about as much as he pleased, had spent his time gossiping.
Owing to the proceedings of the French, every thing in Tahiti
was in an uproar. Pritchard, the missionary consul, was absent
in England; but his place was temporarily filled by one Wilson,
an educated white man, born on the island, and the son of
an old missionary of that name, still living.
With natives and foreigners alike, Wilson the younger was
exceedingly unpopular, being held an unprincipled and dissipated
man, a character verified by his subsequent conduct.
Pritchard's selecting a man like this to attend to the duties of
his office, had occasioned general dissatisfaction ashore.
Though never in Europe or America, the acting consul had
been several voyages to Sydney in a schooner belonging to the
mission; and therefore our surprise was lessened, when Baltimore
told us, that he and Captain Guy were as sociable as could
be—old acquaintances, in fact; and that the latter had taken
up his quarters at Wilson's house. For us, this bonded ill.
The mate was now assailed by a hundred questions as to
what was going to be done with us. His only reply was, that
in the morning the consul would pay us a visit, and settle every
thing.
After holding our ground off the harbor during the night, in
the morning a shore boat, manned by natives, was seen coming
off. In it were Wilson and another white man, who proved to
be a Doctor Johnson, an Englishman, and a resident physician
of Papeetee.
Stopping our headway as they approached, Jermin advanced
to the gangway to receive them. No sooner did the consul
touch the deck, than he gave us a specimen of what he was.
“Mr. Jermin,” he cried loftily, and not deigning to notice
the respectful salutation of the person addressed, “Mr. Jermin,
tack ship, and stand off from the land.”
Upon this, the men looked hard at him, anxious to see what
sort of a looking “cove” he was. Upon inspection, he turned
out to be an exceedingly minute “cove,” with a viciously
pugged nose, and a decidedly thin pair of legs. There was
nothing else noticeable about him. Jermin, with ill assumed
suavity, at once obeyed the order, and the ship's head soon
pointed out to sea.
Now, contempt is as frequently produced at first sight as
love; and thus was it with respect to Wilson. No one could
look at him without conceiving a strong dislike, or a cordial
desire to entertain such a feeling the first favorable opportunity.
There was such an intolerable air of conceit about this man,
that it was almost as much as one could do to refrain from
running up and affronting him.
“So the counselor is come,” exclaimed Navy Bob, who, like
all the rest, invariably styled him thus, much to mine and the
doctor's diversion. “Ay,” said another, “and for no good, I'll
be bound.”
Such were some of the observations made, as Wilson and the
mate went below conversing.
But no one exceeded the cooper in the violence with which
he inveighed against the ship and every thing connected with
her. Swearing like a trooper, he called the main-mast to witness,
that if he (Bungs) ever again went out of sight of land in
the Julia, he prayed Heaven that a fate might be his—altogether
too remarkable to be here related.
Much had he to say also concerning the vileness of what we
had to eat—not fit for a dog; besides enlarging upon the imprudence
of intrusting the vessel longer to a man of the mate's
intemperate habits. With so many sick, too, what could we
expect to do in the fishery? It was no use talking; come
what come might, the ship must let go her anchor.
Now, as Bungs, besides being an able seaman, a “Cod” in
the forecastle, and about the oldest man in it, was, moreover,
thus deeply imbued with feelings so warmly responded to by
the rest, he was all at once selected to officiate as spokesman,
so soon as the consul should see fit to address us. The selection
was made contrary to mine and the doctor's advice; however,
all assured us they would keep quiet, and hear every thing
Wilson had to say, before doing any thing decisive.
We were not kept long in suspense; for very soon he was
seen standing in the cabin gangway, with the tarnished tin case
containing the ship's papers; and Jermin at once sung out for
the ship's company to muster on the quarter-deck.
