ing a fort at Tubuai, digging himself within the moat which encircled the parapet with a depth of 20 feet. But control the innate passions of his ruffian associates, he could not. Their brutal disregard for human rights brought on a war of extermination between the natives and the whites in which Christian himself was severely wounded. Finally, despairing of the impossible task of restoring order, he yielded to the murmurs of his men and returned once more to Tahiti.
Here, late in September, 1789, the Bounty anchored for the last time and most of her crew deserted to plunge into the riotous pastimes of the shore, while Christian with eight comrades remained on board. Twenty natives, men and women, joined them, and then early in the morning of September 23, Tahiti awakened to watch the Bounty fade from sight beneath the northern horizon.
The expected came to pass, for on March 23, 1791, the British frigate Pandora bore down upon Tahiti and those who survived among the mutineers became captives chained to her decks beneath the torrid sun.
But where was Christian and the Bounty? For three months the avenging Pandora searched in vain, for, like the fate of La Perouse, that of the Bounty had become but one more mystery of the Pacific.
Yet there was intelligent method in Christian's leadership. He knew that one day upon Carteret's voyage in 1767 a young midshipman named Pitcairn had seen from the masthead something which appeared to be a barren rock projecting high above the sea, and Captain Carteret had named it "Pitcairn Island." Three weeks Christian spent searching for this isolated land, and at last when almost in despair he found it nearly 180 miles from the longitude assigned by Carteret, but all the safer for a last retreat.
Lost in the vast ocean, far from the paths of man no spot in all the island world was more remote than this tiny islet with its sheer precipices frowning down from eleven hundred feet upon the sea, while back of the volcanic walls concealed from the view of ships, there lay a valley rich in palms and tropic trees. A slight indentation in the bold and unprotected shore marked the last anchorage for the fated Bounty ere they sank her far from sight beneath the sea.
Christian divided the island into nine parts assigning one to each of his men and to himself, while the natives became wives and servants to the whites.
And Christian who had fled from all, now fell under the sad shadow of his thoughts. Long hours he brooded sullen and alone within a cave that looked upon the sea and here he read his Bible through and through, yet what availed a mumbled creed to one whose life was blasted such as his! A worthy servant of his king and country, he might have been but for a moment's work conceived in rage. All romance of his wild career
