were captured in the mountains and brought down to the reef by the natives. Their wrists and ankles had been tied each to the other, and a limb of a tree run through, the ends resting on the shoulders of the natives. This is their mode of carrying burdens. As soon as the deserters had been brought on board they were ordered to take from the capstan the reward of thirty dollars and place it in the hands of those natives who captured them, after which each deserter received thirty-six lashes with the cat on his bare back.
Having finished the survey of this group of islands we bade adieu to the fair Tahitians and their fairy islands. Then we up anchor and stood out of the bay. It was beautiful indeed to sail along these shores and see the villages, in the coves and valleys, surrounded by cocoanut and bread-fruit trees. The day, as all days in Tahiti, was lovely. The night was as fine and clear as the day, although we had much lightning with no thunder.
A day or two afterward we had a sailor’s tea-party. Through the oversight of our purser, his steward, or some one else, our tea, which was not of extra quality, ran short, and the purser took this opportunity to double the price. In consequence, the crew held a council of war. After some debate we left the matter in the hands of a committee, composed of the petty officers, who were to decide our course of action. It was amusing to hear them laying down the law, and talking seriously about mutiny. Jack Kennison, whose father was in the Boston Tea-party, argued the case first, then Sam Williams, one of our gunner’s mates, then many another "old salt." Finally, the committee gave the following verdict: "We
