Читать книгу Mutiny on the Bounty. Historical Novel онлайн

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As we rounded the northern end of the island, Smith hailed me from the top. “Look, Mr. Byam!” he shouted, pointing ahead eagerly. There, many leagues away, I saw the outlines of a mighty mountain rising from the sea,—sweeping ridges falling away symmetrically from a tall central peak,—all pale blue and ghostly in the morning light.

The breeze was making up now, and the Bounty, heeling a little on the larboard tack, was leaving a broad white wake. When I reached the deck I found Mr. Bligh in a rarely pleasant mood. I bade him good morning, standing to leeward of him on the quarter-deck, and he saluted me with a clap on the back.

“There it is, young man,” he said, pointing to the high ghostly outlines of the land ahead. “Tahiti! We have made a long passage of it, a long hard passage, but, by God, there is the island at last!”

“It looks a beautiful island, sir,” I remarked.

“Indeed it is—none more so. Captain Cook loved it only next to England; were I an old man, with my work done and no family at home, I should ask nothing better than to end my days under its palms! And you will find the people as friendly and hospitable as the land they inhabit. Aye—and some of the Indian girls as beautiful. We have come a long way to visit them! Last night I was computing the distance we have run by log since leaving England. To-morrow morning, when we drop anchor in Matavai Bay, we shall have sailed more than twenty-seven thousand miles!”