We left the Okhotsk in September, with twelve hundred and fifty barrels of whale oil and thirteen thousand pounds of bone, besides the sperm we had taken. When it was learned that we were bound home and, presumably, were not to call anywhere, there was discontent and grumbling among the men. The captain was condemned for two reasons. We needed a supply of vegetables and meat, and the men were now so weary of the sea that they wanted shore leave once more. Fancy, then, our satisfaction when word was passed round that the captain proposed to call at Pitcairn Island and remain there for several days. This meant that we would take on board fruit, vegetables, goats, fowl and so forth. When I was a little boy, my father told me all about the mutineers of the Bounty, and their residence on Pitcairn Island for nearly twenty years without the world knowing anything about them or they knowing anything about the world. Later I read the story of Fletcher Christian and his companions, and, in my last year in High School, and not long before shipping on the Seabird, I wrote a composition on the subject, which I now offer as a schoolboy’s narrative:

In the latter part of the eighteenth century, a vessel, named the Bounty, was sent out from England to Tahiti to obtain young breadfruit plants and carry them to the West Indies. It was thought that their cultivation would produce an excellent article of food for the negroes on the plantations. Of this vessel William Bligh was captain and Fletcher Christian was mate. The voyage was not a pleasant one, and there was great discontent because of the poor food and the cruelty of the captain. The vessel arrived at Tahiti in October, 1788, and remained there several months, while officers and crew were engaged in gathering breadfruit plants and stowing them away on the vessel. On April 4, the vessel set sail. There was no abatement of Bligh’s tyranny, his treatment of Christian being particularly harsh and abusive. The accusations of falsehood and theft, and the recollection of the indignities he had been compelled to bear with patience and forbearance during the voyage forced Christian to mutiny, as he knew that it would be fruitless, as a junior officer, to bring his superior to a court martial. Bligh and eighteen others were put in a boat and cut adrift. A landing was effected by them at an island about thirty miles distant, where one of their number was killed by the natives. Thence they set out on the open sea and, after a voyage of over thirty-six hundred miles, and encountering all kinds of weather, and enduring great sufferings from hunger and thirst, they reached a Dutch settlement on the island of Timor. They eventually reached England.

Christian, having become captain of the Bounty, took the vessel to the small island of Toubouai and then to Tahiti. There all the mutineers preferred to remain except Christian, Alexander Smith and seven others. These last took wives at Tahiti and six men as servants, and embarked and set sail. When Bligh and his associates reached England, much interest was manifested in his adventure, and the British Government took steps to apprehend the members of the Bounty’s crew who had remained at Tahiti. A number of them were brought back to England and tried, and three of them were found guilty, and executed.

We now return to the Bounty. Fletcher Christian belonged to an English family of repute and prominence. A brother was a learned man and a college professor.

The design of Fletcher was to seek some island where he and his companions would be safe from discovery. Captain Cartaret, in 1767, discovered a solitary island in the Pacific Ocean between Australia and South America and named it Pitcairn after a midshipman who was the first to observe it. A copy of Captain Cartaret’s “Voyage to the South Seas” was among the books left on board the Bounty, and its description of this lovely island, it is thought, determined Christian to seek it as a probably safe retreat for himself and companions. Because of the want of correctness in the latitude and longitude, laid down by Cartaret in the charts, the cruise lasted several weeks. At last they sighted what was apparently a rock, rising high in the ocean. It was a welcome sight, although there was nothing to indicate that there was a beautiful interior with fertile valleys and mountain sides clothed with palms. The Bounty was beached at a bend in the shore, which has ever since borne the name of “Bounty Bay.”

On landing, Christian divided the island into nine portions, one for himself and the remainder for his companions. Then everything was removed from the vessel—planks from her sides, nails, bolts, masts, spars, sails, and her cargo of provisions, tools, guns, ammunition, implements, goats, pigs and hens. Then they set fire to the hull and it was completely burned up.

Christian now became a changed man. He stocked a cave with water and provisions and would spend whole days there, evidently intending to make it his retreat in the event of pursuit and discovery, and, no doubt, indulging in bitter reflections. For three years all went well, and then trouble began when the whites endeavored to impose upon their native servants. A plot to kill all the white men was discovered by their wives, and thwarted. This plot was followed by another, which partially succeeded. Christian was shot dead, while cultivating his garden, and four of the other Englishmen were also despatched. The survivors, feeling that they were not secure from attacks, determined to destroy all the Tahitian men, and this purpose was carried into effect.

If quiet and contentment followed these barbarities they were of short duration, for tragedies were in store. One of the four, named McCoy, made an ardent spirit from a root, and he and one Quintail were constantly intoxicated. McCoy threw himself from some rocks, and was killed, and Quintail became so threatening and dangerous that Young and Smith, the last of the nine, destroyed him to preserve their own lives. This was the last scene in the dreadful drama.

Edward Young and Alexander Smith now experienced a complete change of life. Resort was made to a Bible and prayer-book, which Christian had brought with him, and which he himself had studied. Daily, morning and evening prayer was established, as well as a system of religious instruction. Young did not long survive, and in 1800 Alexander Smith was the sole surviving man on the island. In the meantime children had been born, and the responsibility and the direction of the affairs of the little colony rested on Smith.

Nearly twenty years passed without the world knowing what had become of the Bounty, when information came in a curious and interesting way. In September, 1808, the attention of Mayhew Folger, captain of the American ship Topaz, was called to a rocky island rising abruptly from the sea. Smoke was seen, and there were other signs of habitation. A tremendous surf was beating on the shore, and the captain was doubtful about a landing place, when a canoe was seen approaching. The occupants hailed the new arrivals in good English, and cordially invited them to land. The captain declined, but a sailor volunteered to go in the canoe, provided the ship stood in near to the land, so that he might swim back, if an attack was attempted. On landing, the sailor was accosted by Smith, who told him the whole tragic story of the Bounty, and informed him that the birth of children had brought the population to thirty-five persons, and that he was the sole guardian and instructor. This intelligence was communicated to the captain, and he landed forthwith. Smith was anxious, after the long exile, to learn the world’s news. So the captain gave him an account of it, laying emphasis on the fact that a little man named Napoleon Bonaparte had come to the front, in France, had usurped the throne and had overrun Europe with his armies, but that England had won great victories on the sea—an announcement which was greeted by Smith with the exclamation, “Old England forever!”

When Captain Folger gave his story to the world, the interest taken in it soon subsided, and six years elapsed before the island was again visited. In 1814 two British frigates—the Briton and the Tagus—appeared, but this was accidental, as the island was not laid down on their charts. A canoe came out to the Briton and there was a request from one of the two occupants, “Won’t you heave us a rope now?” When asked, “Who are you?” he replied, “I am Thursday October Christian, son of Fletcher Christian, the mutineer, by a Tahitian mother, and the first-born on the island.” His companion was Edward Young, son of the midshipman of that name in the Bounty. Thursday October Christian was so named for the day and month of his birth. Every one was impressed by the courteous deportment of the young men, and they were shown over the ship. They were absorbed in everything, astonished when they saw a cow, which they took to be a large goat, and greatly interested in a little, black terrier. Edward Young observed, “I know that is a dog. I have heard of such things.” Refreshments were offered them in the cabin. Before partaking, and at the conclusion of the repast, they sought the divine blessing.

When the captains went ashore, they were received by Smith, who had changed his name to John Adams since the visit of Captain Folger, to avoid recognition. He was hardly more than fifty and was hearty and robust in appearance, but his countenance was that of one aged and worn. He disclosed to his visitors the terrible events which had occurred, but he stoutly maintained that he took no part in the mutiny, and he expressed his disapproval of Captain Bligh’s treatment of both officers and men. When asked if he would like to return to England, he replied in the affirmative and expressed his love for the land of his birth; but his family and friends would not allow of his leaving the island.

The officers were not only impressed with the moral aspect of the community, but were greatly interested in the natural beauty of the island. Its mountains rose to a height of more than a thousand feet above the sea, and about their summits circled countless sea-birds. The slopes down to the water’s edge were covered with groves of palm and coconut and breadfruit trees. In the valleys tropical fruits were produced in abundance, and the visitors were particularly interested in the Taroroot, from which bread was made. The only songster was a small species of flycatcher, but, later, warblers from Valparaiso were introduced.

On an elevated platform stood the little village of Pitcairn. The houses surrounded a grassy square, protected by palisades to preserve it from the depredations of goats, hogs, and poultry which roamed about the island. The houses were built of boards, the sides and ends planed and made to ship and unship on account of the warm weather. The interior of the houses bespoke comfort and cleanliness, and the beds and bedding were very neat. Each dwelling had a pen for hogs, another for fowl and a building for manufacturing cloth. The linen was made of the bark of the paper mulberry tree, steeped in water, and then beaten out to the proper thickness by pieces of wood. Varieties of cloth were also made from the breadfruit tree and a kind of fig.

The visitors were assured that each person considered his possession as held for the general good, so disputes were easily settled; and, if hasty words were uttered, the offender was ever willing to make amends. Adams deeply impressed the captains of the frigates. They made a favorable report to the Admiralty, but little interest was taken, and Pitcairn was neglected.

At length, John Buffett, one of the crew of a whale ship which touched there, was so pleased with the place that he manifested a desire to remain, and he was released from the ship. Not long after another sailor, John Evans, joined the community. Both men married Pitcairn girls. In 1825 the Blossom, Captain Beechy, a British man-of-war, appeared off the island. During his stay of three weeks, Captain Beechy gave close attention to conditions, customs and proceedings. Sunday was strictly observed, and there were five services in the day. Meals were prepared the day before, so that there might be little work on the Sabbath. The fare consisted of pork or fowl, which, according to the Tahitian method, was baked between stones. There were vegetables, bread or pudding made of the taroroot, and breadfruit. At this time there was enough water for all wants, the supply coming from tanks cut in the rocks. There was only a small natural stream. Captain Beechy touched upon the mutiny. Adams talked freely, but affirmed that he had taken no part in it.

In 1828 a third seafaring man came to the island and became, like Evans and Buffett, a permanent settler. His name was George Hunn Nobbs. On March 29, 1829, John Adams, the beloved pastor and teacher, passed away, and Nobbs succeeded him.

On his return, Captain Beechy memorialized the Admiralty, stating that as the population increased there would be a scarcity of both water and food.

In 1830 there were eighty-seven persons in the colony, which was visited by a long drought; and fears of a famine were entertained. On the Government’s proposal, they all removed to Tahiti, where Thursday October Christian died. The lax morals of the inhabitants were distasteful to the Pitcairners, and the Buffett family and a few others returned to the island only to find their plantations ruined by the animals which had run wild in their absence. Soon after an American brig brought back the remaining families, and all set to work to restore their ravaged houses and gardens.

Now all seemed favorable again, but a bitter experience was awaiting them. Soon appeared a man named Joshua Hill, who announced that he had been sent out by the Government to assume direction of the affairs of the island. He assumed absolute authority and proved himself as great a tyrant as he was imposter. Nobbs, Buffett and Evans were compelled to leave the island. Fortunately in 1838 Hill was taken away to Valparaiso, and the exiled men returned.

The island now was more frequently visited by ships, and Pitcairn became better known to the world. In 1848 the surgeon of a vessel named the Colypso was conducted to the east end of the island and, reaching a place, the approach to which was extremely dangerous, he made drawings of figures on the face of the rocks which represented the sun, moon, birds and even human beings. On his return the people showed him ancient spear and arrowheads.

Captain James Wood of the Pandora, which arrived in July, 1849, gave, in a letter, an interesting account of the settlement and people. He described the young folks as good looking, having fine teeth, pleasant faces and fine figures, generally clad in a long white jacket with a dark-colored wrapper fastened around the waist and hanging down to the ankles, wearing neither shoes nor stockings, and having large and broad feet. He also said that their hair was long, kept clean by the aid of coconut oil, and so turned up behind as not to need a comb.

As the population increased, it was regarded as desirable for the whole colony to be transported to Norfolk Island. This conclusion was reached with profound regret. The total number thus conveyed was one hundred and ninety-four. Elaborate preparations were made for them, and their reception was a kind one.

After writing my composition it appeared that, in 1858, two families by the name of Young returned to Pitcairn and other families soon followed. In October, 1860, the inhabitants numbered seventeen.