bited, and it
is only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No,
Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose."

"Mangareva it is, then," said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's
growling objection. "Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig."

The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully
endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The
cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near
him.

When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his
intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a
background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with
here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney
voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: "Gawd! After bein' in
ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to
sea again?"

The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed
to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until
the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the
captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast
of Pitcairn.

Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy:

"Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving."

"Ay," was the answer, "and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a
spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when
we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the
fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it
was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just
as hungry as they are."

He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing
arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and
third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of
the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored,
more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport
glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged
his shoulders in token of his helplessness.

"You see," the captain said to McCoy, "you can't compel sailors to leave
the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their
floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved
out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn."

But th