"I'll tell ye what it is, men. If the skipper dies, all agree to obey
my orders, and in less than three weeks I'll engage to have five
hundred barrels of sperm oil under hatches: enough to give every
mother's son of ye a handful of dollars when we get to Sydney. If ye
don't agree to this, ye won't have a farthing coming to ye."
Doctor Long Ghost at once broke in. He said that such a thing was not
to be dreamt of; that if the captain died, the mate was in duty bound
to navigate the ship to the nearest civilized port, and deliver her
up into an English consul's hands; when, in all probability, after a
run ashore, the crew would be sent home. Everything forbade the
mate's plan. "Still," said he, assuming an air of indifference, "if
the men say stick it out, stick it out say I; but in that case, the
sooner we get to those islands of yours the better."
Something more he went on to say; and from the manner in which the
rest regarded him, it was plain that our fate was in his hands. It
was finally resolved upon, that if Captain Guy was no better in
twenty-four hours, the ship's head should be pointed for the island
of Tahiti.
