Four of the pirates formed the crew of the boat, and taking the oars, they pulled towards the shore. We did not leave the pirate ship with any regret, though few people would desire to be landed on a desert island in the middle of the Pacific. Tom Congo, the black cook, was the only person who wished us good-bye. He was evidently sorry to lose us. We had no means of showing our gratitude to him, except by a few hurried words. We saw his good-natured black visage grinning at us over the bulwarks, as we left the vessel's side. Suddenly he started back. There was some violent disturbance on deck. Shouts, and cries, and pistol-shots were heard. The outbreak we had anticipated was taking place. There was a mutiny. Some of the crew had risen against the captain; there could be no doubt about that. Some of the men in the boat wanted to go back to join in the fray, but an old man among them shook his head and said, "No! Let the fools fight it out. When we go back we shall know which side to join." The rest saw the worldly wisdom of the advice, and calming down their eagerness, they pulled on to the shore. We quickly passed through the reef, and the boat grounded on the beach, which we found was composed of broken corals and shells, and rose some ten feet out of the water. Had it not been for the disturbance on board, the boat would probably have returned as soon as the stores intended for our use had been landed; but, as an excuse for remaining, the crew offered to carry them up to any place we might select under the trees where to pitch a tent. We selected one to leeward of a heap of coral, where, several trees also growing close together, some shelter might be obtained. Near it was a pure spring of water bubbling up through the hard rock, and flowing into a basin some five feet in diameter, but of its depth we could not judge. The water was so clear that, as we looked into it, it appeared but a shallow pool. Jerry, being very thirsty, stooped down to drink from it, and, baring his arm, intended to rest his hand at the bottom to support himself while he stooped over. Down he went on his knees, but he got more water than he had bargained for. Suddenly over head and heels he went, and was floundering about in the pool, which must have been nearly three feet deep. Sad as was our condition, the doctor and I could not help laughing heartily at his surprised countenance as he popped his head up again after his summerset, and we assisted to haul him out. Even the saturnine pirates joined in the laugh. As the sun was very hot, his clothes quickly again dried, and he was in no way the worse for his ducking.