The Book of the Bush | Page 8

side. The men worked together from training and habit. They swung the body athwart the deck like a pendulum, and with a "one! two! three!" it cleared the bulwark, and the devil went head foremost into the deep sea. The cook, looking on from behind the mast, gave a deep sigh of relief.
Thus it was that a great breach of the peace was committed on the Pacific Ocean; and it was done, too, on a beautiful summer's evening, when the sun was low, a gentle breeze barely filled the sails, and everybody should have been happy and comfortable.
Captain Blogg rose to the surface directly and swam after his schooner. The fury of his soul did not abate all at once. He roared to the mate to bring the schooner to, but there was no responsive "Aye, aye, sir." He was now outside of his jurisdiction, and his power was gone. He swam with all his strength, and his bloated face still looked red as the foam passed by it. The helmsman had resumed his place, and steadied the tiller, keeping her full, while the other men looked over the stern. Secker said: "The old man will have a long swim."
But the "old man" swam a losing race. His vessel was gliding away from him: his face grew pale, and in an agony of fear and despair, he called to the men for God's sake to take him on board and he would forgive everything.
But his call came too late; he could find no sureties for his good behaviour in the future; he had never in his life shown any love for God or pity for man, and he found in his utmost need neither mercy nor pity now. He strained his eyes in vain over the crests of the restless billows, calling for the help that did not come. The receding sails never shivered; no land was near, no vessel in sight. The sun went down, and the hopeless sinner was left struggling alone on the black waste of waters.
The men released the cook and held a consultation about a troublesome point of law. Had they committed mutiny and murder, or only justifiable homicide? They felt that the point was a very important one to them--a matter of life and death--and they stood in a group near the tiller to discuss the difficulty, speaking low, while the cook was shivering in the forecastle, trying to ease the pain.
The conclusion of the seamen was, that they had done what was right, both in law and conscience. They had thrown Blogg overboard to prevent him from murdering the cook, and also for their own safety. After they had done their duty by seizing him, he would have killed them if he could. He was a drunken sweep. He was an outlaw, and the law would not protect him. Anybody could kill an outlaw without fear of consequences, so they had heard. But still there was some doubt about it, and there was nobody there to put the case for the captain. The law was, at that time, a terrible thing, especially in Van Diemen's Land, under Colonel Arthur. He governed by the gallows, to make everything orderly and peaceable, and men were peaceable enough after they were hanged.
So Secker and his mates decided that, although they had done nothing but what was right in throwing Blogg over the side, it would be extremely imprudent to trust their innocence to the uncertainty of the law and to the impartiality of Colonel Arthur.
Their first idea was to take the vessel to South America, but after some further discussion, they decided to continue the voyage to Hokianga, and to settle among the Maoris. Nobody had actually seen them throw Blogg overboard except the cook, and him they looked upon as a friend, because they had saved him from being flogged to death. They had some doubts about the best course to take with the mate, but as he was the only man on board who was able to take the schooner to port, they were obliged to make use of his services for the present, and at the end of the voyage they could deal with him in any way prudence might require, and they did not mean to run any unnecessary risks.
They went to the house on deck, and Secker called the mate, informing him that the captain had lost his balance, and had fallen overboard, and that it was his duty to take charge of the 'Industry', and navigate her to Hokianga. But the mate had been thoroughly frightened, and was loth to leave his entrenchment. He could not tell what might happen if he opened his cabin door: he might find himself in the sea in another minute. The men who had