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“It is now or never, lads,” he said. “Hall, serve out quickly the water Mr. Cole has brought in.”

The calabash was passed rapidly from hand to hand, for we knew it would be impossible to get the water to the launch; each man had a generous sup, and it was needed, for we had been on short rations for three days. All this while Bligh had kept a firm grip with his left hand on Nageete’s arm, holding his cutlass in his right. He was determined that, if we were to die, Nageete should die with us. The man’s face was a study. I have not been able to determine in my own mind, to this day, whether he was playing a part or was genuinely friendly towards us. I imagine, however, that he had a heart as treacherous as those of his countrymen.

Bligh had already instructed us in what order we should proceed to the beach. Cole, also armed with a cutlass, took his station with the captain on the other side of Nageete; and the rest of us fell in behind, with Purcell and Norton bringing up the rear.

“Forward, lads!” said Bligh. “Let these bastards see how Englishmen behave in a tight place!”