It was the old story of mutiny, but in this case for no reason whatever except that the mutineers saw a good chance of taking the vessel. The ringleaders must have laid their plans before the Battles sailed, Captain Coffin thought, and have enlisted some of the crew in the scheme. Possibly Wallet knew about it also. They met the Clearchus at every opportunity, until Wallet went aboard of the Battles, where he was at the time when Captain Coffin told the story, so far as he knew; but he had turned out to be such a pusillanimous cuss that he had not been able to maintain himself in the position first given him. The bothering of the Clearchus was but incidental; but the crew got so much fun out of their sport with us—or Drew did, which was more to the point—that they could not resist the temptation to try it whenever they had the chance. Sam Drew was the leader in the mutiny. At the name Captain Nelson grunted, and said that he knew Sam Drew, and had never known any good of him. Captain Coffin nodded, and went on with the story. It had all happened before they got to Fayal. Drew was a boatsteerer. One morning, as Captain Coffin came on deck, six men fell upon him at once, pinioning his hands, his arms and his legs, and throttling him. They must have rehearsed their {271} parts pretty thoroughly, for each man seized some particular member, and clung to it; he was seized around the knees, as in a tackle at football—football had hardly developed the tackle at that time—and thrown to the deck, while the sixth man choked him. Captain Coffin is a tough customer to attack, and the men knew it. With two men on each arm, and choked by another, while the man who had tackled him took a turn about his ankles with the slack of the main sheet, he still put up a stiff fight, and almost got the two men on his right arm overboard. The odds were too great, however. He was soon bound hand and foot, tied to a stanchion, gasping for breath. He had been aware of a struggle going on forward. He now saw Mr. Mayhew, his first mate, beheaded by a single stroke of a spade, and Jim Carter, the second mate, badly wounded by a lance. The third mate was not to be seen, but he was soon brought up from below. Then Drew called a council of a few of his cronies—a Council of State, perhaps—and spoke briefly to them. Captain Coffin could not hear what he said to them, but he heard plainly what he said afterward. “Over with him, men,” he said, indicating the body of poor Mayhew. The body was unceremoniously pitched into the sea, and the head after it. Then the men hesitated. “Over with him!” said Drew impatiently. “You know what happens to the man who refuses to obey orders.” The men laid hold of the wounded Carter and began dragging him to the rail. He was too badly wounded to resist, but Captain Coffin struggled and roared at them. The men hesitated again, but Drew smiled. “Never mind him,” he said. “He can’t do anything. I ’m in command of this vessel now. Over with him!”