a squeaky grunt told him that this
was a mother reposing with her family. He contented himself, therefore,
with a look at them, and gave vent to a shout that sent them scampering
down the hill.

Soon after that he came upon a solitary animal and shot it.

The report of the musket and the accompanying yell brought the Otaheitan
man Tetaheite to his side.

"Well met, Tighty," (so he styled him); "I want you to carry that pig to
Mrs Adams. You didn't see any cats about, did you?"

"No, sar."

"Have you seen Mr Christian at the tanks this morning?"

"Yis, sar; but him's no dere now. Him's go to de mountain-top."

"Ha! I thought so. Well, take the pig to my wife, Tighty, and say I'll
be back before dark."

The native threw the animal over his broad shoulders, and Adams directed
his steps to the well-known cave on the mountain-top, where the chief of
the mutineers spent so much of his leisure time.

After the murder of the two natives, Talaloo and Ohoo, Fletcher
Christian had become very morose. It seemed as if a fit of deep
melancholy had taken entire possession of him. His temper had become
greatly soured. He would scarcely condescend to hold intercourse with
any one, and sought the retirement of his outlook in the cave on the
mountain-top, where few of his comrades ventured to disturb him, save
when matters of importance claimed his immediate attention.

Latterly, however, a change had been observed in his demeanour. He had
become gentle, almost amiable, and much more like his former self before
the blighting influence of Bligh had fallen on him. Though he seldom
laughed, he would chat pleasantly with his companions, as in days gone
by, and frequently took pains to amuse the children. In particular, he
began to go frequently for long walks in the woods with his own sons--
little Charlie on his back, and Thursday October gambolling by his side;
also Otaheitan Sally, for that careful nurse refused to acknowledge any
claim to the guardianship of Charlie as being superior to her own, not
even that of a father.

But Fletcher Christian, although thus changed for the better in many
respects, did not change in his desire for solitude. His visits to the
outlook became not less but rather more frequent and prolonged than
before.

He took no one into his confidence. The only man of the party who ever
ventured to visit him in his "outlook" was Edward Young; but his visits
were not frequent, though they were