I then completed all my arrangements, being careful to take Carter into my full confidence, and treat him in every respect as master of the ship, assuming for myself rather the character of his first lieutenant than anything else--and then all that remained for us to do was to sit down and patiently await the return of the mutineers.  But the time sped on, the hour of sunset arrived, and darkness fell upon the scene without any sign of the longboat, and I began to feel somewhat uneasy as to the safety of the absentees, for we were in a lonely, and, so far as my knowledge went, an unfrequented part of the coast; and I had heard some rather gruesome stories as to the doings of the natives, and of the treatment that they were wont to mete out to white men--shipwrecked sailors and others--who happened to be so unfortunate as to fall into their hands.  And as the hours drifted past without bringing any news, I at length grew so anxious that I began to consider very seriously the advisability of sending away a boat in search of the missing men.  After fully discussing the matter with Carter, however, I came to the conclusion that our first duty was to take care of the ship and her passengers, and that the mutinous crew must be left to look after themselves.  Finally, having set a strong anchor-watch, I went below and turned in.