Having taken a careful mental note of everything that I had seen, I descended the ratlines, and, making my way aft, invited Carter, the general, and Mr Morton to join me in the main saloon, which happened just then to be vacant.  When we arrived there, I told my companions what I had seen, and what I feared, and then laid before them a proposal that I should take the ship's galley--a very fine six-oared boat--and, with my nine men, and one of the carronades mounted in the bows, go in search of the missing men.  But neither the general nor Morton would hear of this for a moment.  They were quite willing that a boat should be dispatched to search for the longboat and her crew if the matter could be arranged, but they very strongly protested against the idea that I and all my nine fighting men should leave the ship, which, they pointed out, would be at the mercy of the mutineers if we were to miss them and if they were to get back before us; or, possibly, which would be still worse, open to an attack from hundreds of savages should the natives by any chance have discovered us and observed our helpless predicament.  I was pointing out to them that this stand which they were taking rendered the idea of a search impossible, since I considered it neither wise nor prudent to dispatch a weak search party, and that I could not dream of ordering any of my own men away upon such an expedition in the command of anyone but myself, when I heard a call on deck, and the next moment Simpson presented himself at the entrance of the saloon to say that the longboat was in sight, pulling hard for the ship, but that, so far as could be made out, there were only five men in her!  Whereupon, with one accord we all dashed out on deck and made the best of our way to the topgallant-forecastle, which afforded a good view of the approaching boat.  It was now a few minutes past three o'clock, ship's time.