“Oct. 6th, 4 p.m.—­At about 1.30 a.m.  I was sleeping when Mrs. Concanen woke me on hearing a noise by the skylight.  The mutineers, finding this to be the only point from which they could attack us with any safety, had hit upon the plan of lashing knives to the end of long sticks and were attempting to stab us with these clumsy weapons.  It was so dark that I could hardly see to aim, but a couple of shots fired in rapid succession drove them quickly away.  The rest of the night was passed quietly enough, except for the cries of the infant, which are very pitiable.  The day, too, has been without event, except that I have heard occasional sounds in the neighbourhood of the forecastle, which I think must come from the sick men imprisoned there, and attempting to cut their way out.

“Oct. 7th.—­We are still let alone.  Doubtless the mutineers think to starve us out or to lull us into a false security and catch us unawares.  As for starvation, the box of biscuits will last us both for a week or more; and they stand little chance of taking us by surprise, for one of us is always on the watch whilst the other sleeps.  They spent last night in drinking.  Railton’s voice was very loud at times, and I could hear Colliver singing his infernal song—­

    “‘Sing hey! for the dead man’s lips, my lads.’

“That man must be a fiend incarnate.  I have but little time to write, and between every word have to look about for signs of the mutineers.  I wonder whither they are steering us.

“Oct. 8th.—­A rough day evidently, by the way in which the vessel is pitching, but I expect the crew are for the most part drunk.  We must find some way of getting rid of the dead bodies soon.  I hardly like to speak to Mrs. Concanen about it.  Words cannot express the admiration I feel for the pluck of this delicate woman.  She asked me to-day to show her how to use a gun, and I believe will fight to the end.  Her child is ailing fast, poor little man!  And yet he is happier than we, being unconscious of all these horrors.

“Oct. 9th, 3.30 p.m.—­Sick of this inaction I made another expedition up the companion to-day.  Rogerson was steering, and Railton standing by the wheel talking to him.  He had a bottle in his hand and seemed very excited.  I could not see Colliver at first, but on glancing up at the rigging saw a most curious sight.  There was a man on the main-top, the boatswain, Kelly, apparently asleep.  Below him Colliver was climbing up, knife in mouth, and was already within a couple of yards of him.  I fired and missed, but alarmed Kelly, who jumped up and seized a block which he had cut off to defend himself with.  At the same moment Railton and Rogerson made for me.  As I retreated down the ladder I stumbled, the gun went off and I think hit Rogerson, who was first.  We rolled down the stairs together, he on top and hacking at me furiously with a knife.  At this moment I heard the report of a gun, and my assailant’s