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We continued a quest that was now all but hopeless. The birds were thoroughly alarmed, and although we waited for a full two hours, they would not again settle. A few ventured down, but before we could reach them they would take wing again. We caught but twelve in all, though we should have returned with our bag filled.

We trudged back slowly, worn out with the fatigue of the journey and reluctant to reach our camp, for we well knew how bitter would be the disappointment of those awaiting our return. This was the first bird island we had met with, and we had looked forward to a meal of roasted sea fowl with an expectation that might have been laughable had it not been so pathetic.

Mr. Cole carried the bag, driving Lamb on before him. The man persisted in his abject entreaties, begging that nothing be said of the matter to Mr. Bligh:—

“I was out o’ me head, Mr. Cole. I was, straight. I was that starved—”

“Starved?” said Samuel. “And what of the rest of us, you bloody thief? Out of your head! You can tell that to Captain Bligh!”