diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-0.txt | 3699 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 74146 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 717249 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/911-h.htm | 3791 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/coverb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 241650 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/covers.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35391 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/fpb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 247330 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/fps.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40423 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/tpb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76076 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 911-h/images/tps.jpg | bin | 0 -> 8244 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/totfp10.txt | 3865 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/totfp10.zip | bin | 0 -> 73127 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/totfp10h.htm | 3242 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/totfp10h.zip | bin | 0 -> 74527 bytes |
17 files changed, 14613 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/911-0.txt b/911-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16192f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3699 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Tales of the Fish Patrol + + +Author: Jack London + + + +Release Date: March 25, 2015 [eBook #911] +[This file was first posted on March 22, 1997] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE FISH PATROL*** + + +Transcribed from the 1914 William Heinemann edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + [Picture: Book cover] + + [Picture: “Now will you keep off?” he demanded] + + + + + + Tales of the + Fish Patrol + + + By + Jack London + Author of “Burning Daylight,” etc. + + [Picture: Decorative graphic] + + London + William Heinemann + 1914 + + + + +WHITE AND YELLOW + + +SAN FRANCISCO BAY is so large that often its storms are more disastrous +to ocean-going craft than is the ocean itself in its violent moments. +The waters of the bay contain all manner of fish, wherefore its surface +is ploughed by the keels of all manner of fishing boats manned by all +manner of fishermen. To protect the fish from this motley floating +population many wise laws have been passed, and there is a fish patrol to +see that these laws are enforced. Exciting times are the lot of the fish +patrol: in its history more than one dead patrolman has marked defeat, +and more often dead fishermen across their illegal nets have marked +success. + +Wildest among the fisher-folk may be accounted the Chinese +shrimp-catchers. It is the habit of the shrimp to crawl along the bottom +in vast armies till it reaches fresh water, when it turns about and +crawls back again to the salt. And where the tide ebbs and flows, the +Chinese sink great bag-nets to the bottom, with gaping mouths, into which +the shrimp crawls and from which it is transferred to the boiling-pot. +This in itself would not be bad, were it not for the small mesh of the +nets, so small that the tiniest fishes, little new-hatched things not a +quarter of an inch long, cannot pass through. The beautiful beaches of +Points Pedro and Pablo, where are the shrimp-catchers’ villages, are made +fearful by the stench from myriads of decaying fish, and against this +wasteful destruction it has ever been the duty of the fish patrol to act. + +When I was a youngster of sixteen, a good sloop-sailor and all-round +bay-waterman, my sloop, the _Reindeer_, was chartered by the Fish +Commission, and I became for the time being a deputy patrolman. After a +deal of work among the Greek fishermen of the Upper Bay and rivers, where +knives flashed at the beginning of trouble and men permitted themselves +to be made prisoners only after a revolver was thrust in their faces, we +hailed with delight an expedition to the Lower Bay against the Chinese +shrimp-catchers. + +There were six of us, in two boats, and to avoid suspicion we ran down +after dark and dropped anchor under a projecting bluff of land known as +Point Pinole. As the east paled with the first light of dawn we got +under way again, and hauled close on the land breeze as we slanted across +the bay toward Point Pedro. The morning mists curled and clung to the +water so that we could see nothing, but we busied ourselves driving the +chill from our bodies with hot coffee. Also we had to devote ourselves +to the miserable task of bailing, for in some incomprehensible way the +_Reindeer_ had sprung a generous leak. Half the night had been spent in +overhauling the ballast and exploring the seams, but the labor had been +without avail. The water still poured in, and perforce we doubled up in +the cockpit and tossed it out again. + +After coffee, three of the men withdrew to the other boat, a Columbia +River salmon boat, leaving three of us in the _Reindeer_. Then the two +craft proceeded in company till the sun showed over the eastern sky-line. +Its fiery rays dispelled the clinging vapors, and there, before our eyes, +like a picture, lay the shrimp fleet, spread out in a great half-moon, +the tips of the crescent fully three miles apart, and each junk moored +fast to the buoy of a shrimp-net. But there was no stir, no sign of +life. + +The situation dawned upon us. While waiting for slack water, in which to +lift their heavy nets from the bed of the bay, the Chinese had all gone +to sleep below. We were elated, and our plan of battle was swiftly +formed. + +“Throw each of your two men on to a junk,” whispered Le Grant to me from +the salmon boat. “And you make fast to a third yourself. We’ll do the +same, and there’s no reason in the world why we shouldn’t capture six +junks at the least.” + +Then we separated. I put the _Reindeer_ about on the other tack, ran up +under the lee of a junk, shivered the mainsail into the wind and lost +headway, and forged past the stern of the junk so slowly and so near that +one of the patrolmen stepped lightly aboard. Then I kept off, filled the +mainsail, and bore away for a second junk. + +Up to this time there had been no noise, but from the first junk captured +by the salmon boat an uproar now broke forth. There was shrill Oriental +yelling, a pistol shot, and more yelling. + +“It’s all up. They’re warning the others,” said George, the remaining +patrolman, as he stood beside me in the cockpit. + +By this time we were in the thick of the fleet, and the alarm was +spreading with incredible swiftness. The decks were beginning to swarm +with half-awakened and half-naked Chinese. Cries and yells of warning +and anger were flying over the quiet water, and somewhere a conch shell +was being blown with great success. To the right of us I saw the captain +of a junk chop away his mooring line with an axe and spring to help his +crew at the hoisting of the huge, outlandish lug-sail. But to the left +the first heads were popping up from below on another junk, and I rounded +up the _Reindeer_ alongside long enough for George to spring aboard. + +The whole fleet was now under way. In addition to the sails they had +gotten out long sweeps, and the bay was being ploughed in every direction +by the fleeing junks. I was now alone in the _Reindeer_, seeking +feverishly to capture a third prize. The first junk I took after was a +clean miss, for it trimmed its sheets and shot away surprisingly into the +wind. By fully half a point it outpointed the _Reindeer_, and I began to +feel respect for the clumsy craft. Realizing the hopelessness of the +pursuit, I filled away, threw out the main-sheet, and drove down before +the wind upon the junks to leeward, where I had them at a disadvantage. + +The one I had selected wavered indecisively before me, and, as I swung +wide to make the boarding gentle, filled suddenly and darted away, the +smart Mongols shouting a wild rhythm as they bent to the sweeps. But I +had been ready for this. I luffed suddenly. Putting the tiller hard +down, and holding it down with my body, I brought the main-sheet in, hand +over hand, on the run, so as to retain all possible striking force. The +two starboard sweeps of the junk were crumpled up, and then the two boats +came together with a crash. The _Reindeer’s_ bowsprit, like a monstrous +hand, reached over and ripped out the junk’s chunky mast and towering +sail. + +This was met by a curdling yell of rage. A big Chinaman, remarkably +evil-looking, with his head swathed in a yellow silk handkerchief and +face badly pock-marked, planted a pike-pole on the _Reindeer’s_ bow and +began to shove the entangled boats apart. Pausing long enough to let go +the jib halyards, and just as the _Reindeer_ cleared and began to drift +astern, I leaped aboard the junk with a line and made fast. He of the +yellow handkerchief and pock-marked face came toward me threateningly, +but I put my hand into my hip pocket, and he hesitated. I was unarmed, +but the Chinese have learned to be fastidiously careful of American hip +pockets, and it was upon this that I depended to keep him and his savage +crew at a distance. + +I ordered him to drop the anchor at the junk’s bow, to which he replied, +“No sabbe.” The crew responded in like fashion, and though I made my +meaning plain by signs, they refused to understand. Realizing the +inexpediency of discussing the matter, I went forward myself, overran the +line, and let the anchor go. + +“Now get aboard, four of you,” I said in a loud voice, indicating with my +fingers that four of them were to go with me and the fifth was to remain +by the junk. The Yellow Handkerchief hesitated; but I repeated the order +fiercely (much more fiercely than I felt), at the same time sending my +hand to my hip. Again the Yellow Handkerchief was overawed, and with +surly looks he led three of his men aboard the _Reindeer_. I cast off at +once, and, leaving the jib down, steered a course for George’s junk. +Here it was easier, for there were two of us, and George had a pistol to +fall back on if it came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, four +Chinese were transferred to the sloop and one left behind to take care of +things. + +Four more were added to our passenger list from the third junk. By this +time the salmon boat had collected its twelve prisoners and came +alongside, badly overloaded. To make matters worse, as it was a small +boat, the patrolmen were so jammed in with their prisoners that they +would have little chance in case of trouble. + +“You’ll have to help us out,” said Le Grant. + +I looked over my prisoners, who had crowded into the cabin and on top of +it. “I can take three,” I answered. + +“Make it four,” he suggested, “and I’ll take Bill with me.” (Bill was +the third patrolman.) “We haven’t elbow room here, and in case of a +scuffle one white to every two of them will be just about the right +proportion.” + +The exchange was made, and the salmon boat got up its spritsail and +headed down the bay toward the marshes off San Rafael. I ran up the jib +and followed with the _Reindeer_. San Rafael, where we were to turn our +catch over to the authorities, communicated with the bay by way of a long +and tortuous slough, or marshland creek, which could be navigated only +when the tide was in. Slack water had come, and, as the ebb was +commencing, there was need for hurry if we cared to escape waiting half a +day for the next tide. + +But the land breeze had begun to die away with the rising sun, and now +came only in failing puffs. The salmon boat got out its oars and soon +left us far astern. Some of the Chinese stood in the forward part of the +cockpit, near the cabin doors, and once, as I leaned over the cockpit +rail to flatten down the jib-sheet a bit, I felt some one brush against +my hip pocket. I made no sign, but out of the corner of my eye I saw +that the Yellow Handkerchief had discovered the emptiness of the pocket +which had hitherto overawed him. + +To make matters serious, during all the excitement of boarding the junks +the _Reindeer_ had not been bailed, and the water was beginning to slush +over the cockpit floor. The shrimp-catchers pointed at it and looked to +me questioningly. + +“Yes,” I said. “Bime by, allee same dlown, velly quick, you no bail now. +Sabbe?” + +No, they did not “sabbe,” or at least they shook their heads to that +effect, though they chattered most comprehendingly to one another in +their own lingo. I pulled up three or four of the bottom boards, got a +couple of buckets from a locker, and by unmistakable sign-language +invited them to fall to. But they laughed, and some crowded into the +cabin and some climbed up on top. + +Their laughter was not good laughter. There was a hint of menace in it, +a maliciousness which their black looks verified. The Yellow +Handkerchief, since his discovery of my empty pocket, had become most +insolent in his bearing, and he wormed about among the other prisoners, +talking to them with great earnestness. + +Swallowing my chagrin, I stepped down into the cockpit and began throwing +out the water. But hardly had I begun, when the boom swung overhead, the +mainsail filled with a jerk, and the _Reindeer_ heeled over. The day +wind was springing up. George was the veriest of landlubbers, so I was +forced to give over bailing and take the tiller. The wind was blowing +directly off Point Pedro and the high mountains behind, and because of +this was squally and uncertain, half the time bellying the canvas out and +the other half flapping it idly. + +George was about the most all-round helpless man I had ever met. Among +his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, and I knew that if he +attempted to bail, it might bring on a hemorrhage. Yet the rising water +warned me that something must be done. Again I ordered the +shrimp-catchers to lend a hand with the buckets. They laughed defiantly, +and those inside the cabin, the water up to their ankles, shouted back +and forth with those on top. + +“You’d better get out your gun and make them bail,” I said to George. + +But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was afraid. The +Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as I could, and their +insolence became insufferable. Those in the cabin broke into the food +lockers, and those above scrambled down and joined them in a feast on our +crackers and canned goods. + +“What do we care?” George said weakly. + +I was fuming with helpless anger. “If they get out of hand, it will be +too late to care. The best thing you can do is to get them in check +right now.” + +The water was rising higher and higher, and the gusts, forerunners of a +steady breeze, were growing stiffer and stiffer. And between the gusts, +the prisoners, having gotten away with a week’s grub, took to crowding +first to one side and then to the other till the _Reindeer_ rocked like a +cockle-shell. Yellow Handkerchief approached me, and, pointing out his +village on the Point Pedro beach, gave me to understand that if I turned +the _Reindeer_ in that direction and put them ashore, they, in turn, +would go to bailing. By now the water in the cabin was up to the bunks, +and the bed-clothes were sopping. It was a foot deep on the cockpit +floor. Nevertheless I refused, and I could see by George’s face that he +was disappointed. + +“If you don’t show some nerve, they’ll rush us and throw us overboard,” I +said to him. “Better give me your revolver, if you want to be safe.” + +“The safest thing to do,” he chattered cravenly, “is to put them ashore. +I, for one, don’t want to be drowned for the sake of a handful of dirty +Chinamen.” + +“And I, for another, don’t care to give in to a handful of dirty Chinamen +to escape drowning,” I answered hotly. + +“You’ll sink the _Reindeer_ under us all at this rate,” he whined. “And +what good that’ll do I can’t see.” + +“Every man to his taste,” I retorted. + +He made no reply, but I could see he was trembling pitifully. Between +the threatening Chinese and the rising water he was beside himself with +fright; and, more than the Chinese and the water, I feared him and what +his fright might impel him to do. I could see him casting longing +glances at the small skiff towing astern, so in the next calm I hauled +the skiff alongside. As I did so his eyes brightened with hope; but +before he could guess my intention, I stove the frail bottom through with +a hand-axe, and the skiff filled to its gunwales. + +“It’s sink or float together,” I said. “And if you’ll give me your +revolver, I’ll have the _Reindeer_ bailed out in a jiffy.” + +“They’re too many for us,” he whimpered. “We can’t fight them all.” + +I turned my back on him in disgust. The salmon boat had long since +passed from sight behind a little archipelago known as the Marin Islands, +so no help could be looked for from that quarter. Yellow Handkerchief +came up to me in a familiar manner, the water in the cockpit slushing +against his legs. I did not like his looks. I felt that beneath the +pleasant smile he was trying to put on his face there was an ill purpose. +I ordered him back, and so sharply that he obeyed. + +“Now keep your distance,” I commanded, “and don’t you come closer!” + +“Wha’ fo’?” he demanded indignantly. “I t’ink-um talkee talkee heap +good.” + +“Talkee talkee,” I answered bitterly, for I knew now that he had +understood all that passed between George and me. “What for talkee +talkee? You no sabbe talkee talkee.” + +He grinned in a sickly fashion. “Yep, I sabbe velly much. I honest +Chinaman.” + +“All right,” I answered. “You sabbe talkee talkee, then you bail water +plenty plenty. After that we talkee talkee.” + +He shook his head, at the same time pointing over his shoulder to his +comrades. “No can do. Velly bad Chinamen, heap velly bad. I t’ink-um—” + +“Stand back!” I shouted, for I had noticed his hand disappear beneath his +blouse and his body prepare for a spring. + +Disconcerted, he went back into the cabin, to hold a council, apparently, +from the way the jabbering broke forth. The _Reindeer_ was very deep in +the water, and her movements had grown quite loggy. In a rough sea she +would have inevitably swamped; but the wind, when it did blow, was off +the land, and scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface of the bay. + +“I think you’d better head for the beach,” George said abruptly, in a +manner that told me his fear had forced him to make up his mind to some +course of action. + +“I think not,” I answered shortly. + +“I command you,” he said in a bullying tone. + +“I was commanded to bring these prisoners into San Rafael,” was my reply. + +Our voices were raised, and the sound of the altercation brought the +Chinese out of the cabin. + +“Now will you head for the beach?” + +This from George, and I found myself looking into the muzzle of his +revolver—of the revolver he dared to use on me, but was too cowardly to +use on the prisoners. + +My brain seemed smitten with a dazzling brightness. The whole situation, +in all its bearings, was focussed sharply before me—the shame of losing +the prisoners, the worthlessness and cowardice of George, the meeting +with Le Grant and the other patrol men and the lame explanation; and then +there was the fight I had fought so hard, victory wrenched from me just +as I thought I had it within my grasp. And out of the tail of my eye I +could see the Chinese crowding together by the cabin doors and leering +triumphantly. It would never do. + +I threw my hand up and my head down. The first act elevated the muzzle, +and the second removed my head from the path of the bullet which went +whistling past. One hand closed on George’s wrist, the other on the +revolver. Yellow Handkerchief and his gang sprang toward me. It was now +or never. Putting all my strength into a sudden effort, I swung George’s +body forward to meet them. Then I pulled back with equal suddenness, +ripping the revolver out of his fingers and jerking him off his feet. He +fell against Yellow Handkerchief’s knees, who stumbled over him, and the +pair wallowed in the bailing hole where the cockpit floor was torn open. +The next instant I was covering them with my revolver, and the wild +shrimp-catchers were cowering and cringing away. + +But I swiftly discovered that there was all the difference in the world +between shooting men who are attacking and men who are doing nothing more +than simply refusing to obey. For obey they would not when I ordered +them into the bailing hole. I threatened them with the revolver, but +they sat stolidly in the flooded cabin and on the roof and would not +move. + +Fifteen minutes passed, the _Reindeer_ sinking deeper and deeper, her +mainsail flapping in the calm. But from off the Point Pedro shore I saw +a dark line form on the water and travel toward us. It was the steady +breeze I had been expecting so long. I called to the Chinese and pointed +it out. They hailed it with exclamations. Then I pointed to the sail +and to the water in the _Reindeer_, and indicated by signs that when the +wind reached the sail, what of the water aboard we would capsize. But +they jeered defiantly, for they knew it was in my power to luff the helm +and let go the main-sheet, so as to spill the wind and escape damage. + +But my mind was made up. I hauled in the main-sheet a foot or two, took +a turn with it, and bracing my feet, put my back against the tiller. +This left me one hand for the sheet and one for the revolver. The dark +line drew nearer, and I could see them looking from me to it and back +again with an apprehension they could not successfully conceal. My brain +and will and endurance were pitted against theirs, and the problem was +which could stand the strain of imminent death the longer and not give +in. + +Then the wind struck us. The main-sheet tautened with a brisk rattling +of the blocks, the boom uplifted, the sail bellied out, and the +_Reindeer_ heeled over—over, and over, till the lee-rail went under, the +cabin windows went under, and the bay began to pour in over the cockpit +rail. So violently had she heeled over, that the men in the cabin had +been thrown on top of one another into the lee bunk, where they squirmed +and twisted and were washed about, those underneath being perilously near +to drowning. + +The wind freshened a bit, and the _Reindeer_ went over farther than ever. +For the moment I thought she was gone, and I knew that another puff like +that and she surely would go. While I pressed her under and debated +whether I should give up or not, the Chinese cried for mercy. I think it +was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. And then, and not until then, +did I luff up and ease out the main-sheet. The _Reindeer_ righted very +slowly, and when she was on an even keel was so much awash that I doubted +if she could be saved. + +But the Chinese scrambled madly into the cockpit and fell to bailing with +buckets, pots, pans, and everything they could lay hands on. It was a +beautiful sight to see that water flying over the side! And when the +_Reindeer_ was high and proud on the water once more, we dashed away with +the breeze on our quarter, and at the last possible moment crossed the +mud flats and entered the slough. + +The spirit of the Chinese was broken, and so docile did they become that +ere we made San Rafael they were out with the tow-rope, Yellow +Handkerchief at the head of the line. As for George, it was his last +trip with the fish patrol. He did not care for that sort of thing, he +explained, and he thought a clerkship ashore was good enough for him. +And we thought so too. + + + + +THE KING OF THE GREEKS + + +BIG ALEC had never been captured by the fish patrol. It was his boast +that no man could take him alive, and it was his history that of the many +men who had tried to take him dead none had succeeded. It was also +history that at least two patrolmen who had tried to take him dead had +died themselves. Further, no man violated the fish laws more +systematically and deliberately than Big Alec. + +He was called “Big Alec” because of his gigantic stature. His height was +six feet three inches, and he was correspondingly broad-shouldered and +deep-chested. He was splendidly muscled and hard as steel, and there +were innumerable stories in circulation among the fisher-folk concerning +his prodigious strength. He was as bold and dominant of spirit as he was +strong of body, and because of this he was widely known by another name, +that of “The King of the Greeks.” The fishing population was largely +composed of Greeks, and they looked up to him and obeyed him as their +chief. And as their chief, he fought their fights for them, saw that +they were protected, saved them from the law when they fell into its +clutches, and made them stand by one another and himself in time of +trouble. + +In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture many +disastrous times and had finally given it over, so that when the word was +out that he was coming to Benicia, I was most anxious to see him. But I +did not have to hunt him up. In his usual bold way, the first thing he +did on arriving was to hunt us up. Charley Le Grant and I at the time +were under a patrolman named Carmintel, and the three of us were on the +_Reindeer_, preparing for a trip, when Big Alec stepped aboard. +Carmintel evidently knew him, for they shook hands in recognition. Big +Alec took no notice of Charley or me. + +“I’ve come down to fish sturgeon a couple of months,” he said to +Carmintel. + +His eyes flashed with challenge as he spoke, and we noticed the +patrolman’s eyes drop before him. + +“That’s all right, Alec,” Carmintel said in a low voice. “I’ll not +bother you. Come on into the cabin, and we’ll talk things over,” he +added. + +When they had gone inside and shut the doors after them, Charley winked +with slow deliberation at me. But I was only a youngster, and new to men +and the ways of some men, so I did not understand. Nor did Charley +explain, though I felt there was something wrong about the business. + +Leaving them to their conference, at Charley’s suggestion we boarded our +skiff and pulled over to the Old Steamboat Wharf, where Big Alec’s ark +was lying. An ark is a house-boat of small though comfortable +dimensions, and is as necessary to the Upper Bay fisherman as are nets +and boats. We were both curious to see Big Alec’s ark, for history said +that it had been the scene of more than one pitched battle, and that it +was riddled with bullet-holes. + +We found the holes (stopped with wooden plugs and painted over), but +there were not so many as I had expected. Charley noted my look of +disappointment, and laughed; and then to comfort me he gave an authentic +account of one expedition which had descended upon Big Alec’s floating +home to capture him, alive preferably, dead if necessary. At the end of +half a day’s fighting, the patrolmen had drawn off in wrecked boats, with +one of their number killed and three wounded. And when they returned +next morning with reinforcements they found only the mooring-stakes of +Big Alec’s ark; the ark itself remained hidden for months in the +fastnesses of the Suisun tules. + +“But why was he not hanged for murder?” I demanded. “Surely the United +States is powerful enough to bring such a man to justice.” + +“He gave himself up and stood trial,” Charley answered. “It cost him +fifty thousand dollars to win the case, which he did on technicalities +and with the aid of the best lawyers in the state. Every Greek fisherman +on the river contributed to the sum. Big Alec levied and collected the +tax, for all the world like a king. The United States may be +all-powerful, my lad, but the fact remains that Big Alec is a king inside +the United States, with a country and subjects all his own.” + +“But what are you going to do about his fishing for sturgeon? He’s bound +to fish with a ‘Chinese line.’” + +Charley shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see what we will see,” he said +enigmatically. + +Now a “Chinese line” is a cunning device invented by the people whose +name it bears. By a simple system of floats, weights, and anchors, +thousands of hooks, each on a separate leader, are suspended at a +distance of from six inches to a foot above the bottom. The remarkable +thing about such a line is the hook. It is barbless, and in place of the +barb, the hook is filed long and tapering to a point as sharp as that of +a needle. These hoods are only a few inches apart, and when several +thousand of them are suspended just above the bottom, like a fringe, for +a couple of hundred fathoms, they present a formidable obstacle to the +fish that travel along the bottom. + +Such a fish is the sturgeon, which goes rooting along like a pig, and +indeed is often called “pig-fish.” Pricked by the first hook it touches, +the sturgeon gives a startled leap and comes into contact with half a +dozen more hooks. Then it threshes about wildly, until it receives hook +after hook in its soft flesh; and the hooks, straining from many +different angles, hold the luckless fish fast until it is drowned. +Because no sturgeon can pass through a Chinese line, the device is called +a trap in the fish laws; and because it bids fair to exterminate the +sturgeon, it is branded by the fish laws as illegal. And such a line, we +were confident, Big Alec intended setting, in open and flagrant violation +of the law. + +Several days passed after the visit of Big Alec, during which Charley and +I kept a sharp watch on him. He towed his ark around the Solano Wharf +and into the big bight at Turner’s Shipyard. The bight we knew to be +good ground for sturgeon, and there we felt sure the King of the Greeks +intended to begin operations. The tide circled like a mill-race in and +out of this bight, and made it possible to raise, lower, or set a Chinese +line only at slack water. So between the tides Charley and I made it a +point for one or the other of us to keep a lookout from the Solano Wharf. + +On the fourth day I was lying in the sun behind the stringer-piece of the +wharf, when I saw a skiff leave the distant shore and pull out into the +bight. In an instant the glasses were at my eyes and I was following +every movement of the skiff. There were two men in it, and though it was +a good mile away, I made out one of them to be Big Alec; and ere the +skiff returned to shore I made out enough more to know that the Greek had +set his line. + +“Big Alec has a Chinese line out in the bight off Turner’s Shipyard,” +Charley Le Grant said that afternoon to Carmintel. + +A fleeting expression of annoyance passed over the patrolman’s face, and +then he said, “Yes?” in an absent way, and that was all. + +Charley bit his lip with suppressed anger and turned on his heel. + +“Are you game, my lad?” he said to me later on in the evening, just as we +finished washing down the _Reindeer’s_ decks and were preparing to turn +in. + +A lump came up in my throat, and I could only nod my head. + +“Well, then,” and Charley’s eyes glittered in a determined way, “we’ve +got to capture Big Alec between us, you and I, and we’ve got to do it in +spite of Carmintel. Will you lend a hand?” + +“It’s a hard proposition, but we can do it,” he added after a pause. + +“Of course we can,” I supplemented enthusiastically. + +And then he said, “Of course we can,” and we shook hands on it and went +to bed. + +But it was no easy task we had set ourselves. In order to convict a man +of illegal fishing, it was necessary to catch him in the act with all the +evidence of the crime about him—the hooks, the lines, the fish, and the +man himself. This meant that we must take Big Alec on the open water, +where he could see us coming and prepare for us one of the warm +receptions for which he was noted. + +“There’s no getting around it,” Charley said one morning. “If we can +only get alongside it’s an even toss, and there’s nothing left for us but +to try and get alongside. Come on, lad.” + +We were in the Columbia River salmon boat, the one we had used against +the Chinese shrimp-catchers. Slack water had come, and as we dropped +around the end of the Solano Wharf we saw Big Alec at work, running his +line and removing the fish. + +“Change places,” Charley commanded, “and steer just astern of him as +though you’re going into the shipyard.” + +I took the tiller, and Charley sat down on a thwart amidships, placing +his revolver handily beside him. + +“If he begins to shoot,” he cautioned, “get down in the bottom and steer +from there, so that nothing more than your hand will be exposed.” + +I nodded, and we kept silent after that, the boat slipping gently through +the water and Big Alec growing nearer and nearer. We could see him quite +plainly, gaffing the sturgeon and throwing them into the boat while his +companion ran the line and cleared the hooks as he dropped them back into +the water. Nevertheless, we were five hundred yards away when the big +fisherman hailed us. + +“Here! You! What do you want?” he shouted. + +“Keep going,” Charley whispered, “just as though you didn’t hear him.” + +The next few moments were very anxious ones. The fisherman was studying +us sharply, while we were gliding up on him every second. + +“You keep off if you know what’s good for you!” he called out suddenly, +as though he had made up his mind as to who and what we were. “If you +don’t, I’ll fix you!” + +He brought a rifle to his shoulder and trained it on me. + +“Now will you keep off?” he demanded. + +I could hear Charley groan with disappointment. “Keep off,” he +whispered; “it’s all up for this time.” + +I put up the tiller and eased the sheet, and the salmon boat ran off five +or six points. Big Alec watched us till we were out of range, when he +returned to his work. + +“You’d better leave Big Alec alone,” Carmintel said, rather sourly, to +Charley that night. + +“So he’s been complaining to you, has he?” Charley said significantly. + +Carmintel flushed painfully. “You’d better leave him alone, I tell you,” +he repeated. “He’s a dangerous man, and it won’t pay to fool with him.” + +“Yes,” Charley answered softly; “I’ve heard that it pays better to leave +him alone.” + +This was a direct thrust at Carmintel, and we could see by the expression +of his face that it sank home. For it was common knowledge that Big Alec +was as willing to bribe as to fight, and that of late years more than one +patrolman had handled the fisherman’s money. + +“Do you mean to say—” Carmintel began, in a bullying tone. + +But Charley cut him off shortly. “I mean to say nothing,” he said. “You +heard what I said, and if the cap fits, why—” + +He shrugged his shoulders, and Carmintel glowered at him, speechless. + +“What we want is imagination,” Charley said to me one day, when we had +attempted to creep upon Big Alec in the gray of dawn and had been shot at +for our trouble. + +And thereafter, and for many days, I cudgelled my brains trying to +imagine some possible way by which two men, on an open stretch of water, +could capture another who knew how to use a rifle and was never to be +found without one. Regularly, every slack water, without slyness, boldly +and openly in the broad day, Big Alec was to be seen running his line. +And what made it particularly exasperating was the fact that every +fisherman, from Benicia to Vallejo knew that he was successfully defying +us. Carmintel also bothered us, for he kept us busy among the +shad-fishers of San Pablo, so that we had little time to spare on the +King of the Greeks. But Charley’s wife and children lived at Benicia, +and we had made the place our headquarters, so that we always returned to +it. + +“I’ll tell you what we can do,” I said, after several fruitless weeks had +passed; “we can wait some slack water till Big Alec has run his line and +gone ashore with the fish, and then we can go out and capture the line. +It will put him to time and expense to make another, and then we’ll +figure to capture that too. If we can’t capture him, we can discourage +him, you see.” + +Charley saw, and said it wasn’t a bad idea. We watched our chance, and +the next low-water slack, after Big Alec had removed the fish from the +line and returned ashore, we went out in the salmon boat. We had the +bearings of the line from shore marks, and we knew we would have no +difficulty in locating it. The first of the flood tide was setting in, +when we ran below where we thought the line was stretched and dropped +over a fishing-boat anchor. Keeping a short rope to the anchor, so that +it barely touched the bottom, we dragged it slowly along until it stuck +and the boat fetched up hard and fast. + +“We’ve got it,” Charley cried. “Come on and lend a hand to get it in.” + +Together we hove up the rope till the anchor I came in sight with the +sturgeon line caught across one of the flukes. Scores of the +murderous-looking hooks flashed into sight as we cleared the anchor, and +we had just started to run along the line to the end where we could begin +to lift it, when a sharp thud in the boat startled us. We looked about, +but saw nothing and returned to our work. An instant later there was a +similar sharp thud and the gunwale splintered between Charley’s body and +mine. + +“That’s remarkably like a bullet, lad,” he said reflectively. “And it’s +a long shot Big Alec’s making.” + +“And he’s using smokeless powder,” he concluded, after an examination of +the mile-distant shore. “That’s why we can’t hear the report.” + +I looked at the shore, but could see no sign of Big Alec, who was +undoubtedly hidden in some rocky nook with us at his mercy. A third +bullet struck the water, glanced, passed singing over our heads, and +struck the water again beyond. + +“I guess we’d better get out of this,” Charley remarked coolly. “What do +you think, lad?” + +I thought so, too, and said we didn’t want the line anyway. Whereupon we +cast off and hoisted the spritsail. The bullets ceased at once, and we +sailed away, unpleasantly confident that Big Alec was laughing at our +discomfiture. + +And more than that, the next day on the fishing wharf, where we were +inspecting nets, he saw fit to laugh and sneer at us, and this before all +the fishermen. Charley’s face went black with anger; but beyond +promising Big Alec that in the end he would surely land him behind the +bars, he controlled himself and said nothing. The King of the Greeks +made his boast that no fish patrol had ever taken him or ever could take +him, and the fishermen cheered him and said it was true. They grew +excited, and it looked like trouble for a while; but Big Alec asserted +his kingship and quelled them. + +Carmintel also laughed at Charley, and dropped sarcastic remarks, and +made it hard for him. But Charley refused to be angered, though he told +me in confidence that he intended to capture Big Alec if it took all the +rest of his life to accomplish it. + +“I don’t know how I’ll do it,” he said, “but do it I will, as sure as I +am Charley Le Grant. The idea will come to me at the right and proper +time, never fear.” + +And at the right time it came, and most unexpectedly. Fully a month had +passed, and we were constantly up and down the river, and down and up the +bay, with no spare moments to devote to the particular fisherman who ran +a Chinese line in the bight of Turner’s Shipyard. We had called in at +Selby’s Smelter one afternoon, while on patrol work, when all unknown to +us our opportunity happened along. It appeared in the guise of a +helpless yacht loaded with seasick people, so we could hardly be expected +to recognize it as the opportunity. It was a large sloop-yacht, and it +was helpless inasmuch as the trade-wind was blowing half a gale and there +were no capable sailors aboard. + +From the wharf at Selby’s we watched with careless interest the lubberly +manœuvre performed of bringing the yacht to anchor, and the equally +lubberly manœuvre of sending the small boat ashore. A very +miserable-looking man in draggled ducks, after nearly swamping the boat +in the heavy seas, passed us the painter and climbed out. He staggered +about as though the wharf were rolling, and told us his troubles, which +were the troubles of the yacht. The only rough-weather sailor aboard, +the man on whom they all depended, had been called back to San Francisco +by a telegram, and they had attempted to continue the cruise alone. The +high wind and big seas of San Pablo Bay had been too much for them; all +hands were sick, nobody knew anything or could do anything; and so they +had run in to the smelter either to desert the yacht or to get somebody +to bring it to Benicia. In short, did we know of any sailors who would +bring the yacht into Benicia? + +Charley looked at me. The _Reindeer_ was lying in a snug place. We had +nothing on hand in the way of patrol work till midnight. With the wind +then blowing, we could sail the yacht into Benicia in a couple of hours, +have several more hours ashore, and come back to the smelter on the +evening train. + +“All right, captain,” Charley said to the disconsolate yachtsman, who +smiled in sickly fashion at the title. + +“I’m only the owner,” he explained. + +We rowed him aboard in much better style than he had come ashore, and saw +for ourselves the helplessness of the passengers. There were a dozen men +and women, and all of them too sick even to appear grateful at our +coming. The yacht was rolling savagely, broad on, and no sooner had the +owner’s feet touched the deck than he collapsed and joined, the others. +Not one was able to bear a hand, so Charley and I between us cleared the +badly tangled running gear, got up sail, and hoisted anchor. + +It was a rough trip, though a swift one. The Carquinez Straits were a +welter of foam and smother, and we came through them wildly before the +wind, the big mainsail alternately dipping and flinging its boom skyward +as we tore along. But the people did not mind. They did not mind +anything. Two or three, including the owner, sprawled in the cockpit, +shuddering when the yacht lifted and raced and sank dizzily into the +trough, and between-whiles regarding the shore with yearning eyes. The +rest were huddled on the cabin floor among the cushions. Now and again +some one groaned, but for the most part they were as limp as so many dead +persons. + +As the bight at Turner’s Shipyard opened out, Charley edged into it to +get the smoother water. Benicia was in view, and we were bowling along +over comparatively easy water, when a speck of a boat danced up ahead of +us, directly in our course. It was low-water slack. Charley and I +looked at each other. No word was spoken, but at once the yacht began a +most astonishing performance, veering and yawing as though the greenest +of amateurs was at the wheel. It was a sight for sailormen to see. To +all appearances, a runaway yacht was careering madly over the bight, and +now and again yielding a little bit to control in a desperate effort to +make Benicia. + +The owner forgot his seasickness long enough to look anxious. The speck +of a boat grew larger and larger, till we could see Big Alec and his +partner, with a turn of the sturgeon line around a cleat, resting from +their labor to laugh at us. Charley pulled his sou’wester over his eyes, +and I followed his example, though I could not guess the idea he +evidently had in mind and intended to carry into execution. + +We came foaming down abreast of the skiff, so close that we could hear +above the wind the voices of Big Alec and his mate as they shouted at us +with all the scorn that professional watermen feel for amateurs, +especially when amateurs are making fools of themselves. + +We thundered on past the fishermen, and nothing had happened. Charley +grinned at the disappointment he saw in my face, and then shouted: + +“Stand by the main-sheet to jibe!” + +He put the wheel hard over, and the yacht whirled around obediently. The +main-sheet slacked and dipped, then shot over our heads after the boom +and tautened with a crash on the traveller. The yacht heeled over almost +on her beam ends, and a great wail went up from the seasick passengers as +they swept across the cabin floor in a tangled mass and piled into a heap +in the starboard bunks. + +But we had no time for them. The yacht, completing the manœuvre, headed +into the wind with slatting canvas, and righted to an even keel. We were +still plunging ahead, and directly in our path was the skiff. I saw Big +Alec dive overboard and his mate leap for our bowsprit. Then came the +crash as we struck the boat, and a series of grinding bumps as it passed +under our bottom. + +“That fixes his rifle,” I heard Charley mutter, as he sprang upon the +deck to look for Big Alec somewhere astern. + +The wind and sea quickly stopped our forward movement, and we began to +drift backward over the spot where the skiff had been. Big Alec’s black +head and swarthy face popped up within arm’s reach; and all unsuspecting +and very angry with what he took to be the clumsiness of amateur sailors, +he was hauled aboard. Also he was out of breath, for he had dived deep +and stayed down long to escape our keel. + +The next instant, to the perplexity and consternation of the owner, +Charley was on top of Big Alec in the cockpit, and I was helping bind him +with gaskets. The owner was dancing excitedly about and demanding an +explanation, but by that time Big Alec’s partner had crawled aft from the +bowsprit and was peering apprehensively over the rail into the cockpit. +Charley’s arm shot around his neck and the man landed on his back beside +Big Alec. + +“More gaskets!” Charley shouted, and I made haste to supply them. + +The wrecked skiff was rolling sluggishly a short distance to windward, +and I trimmed the sheets while Charley took the wheel and steered for it. + +“These two men are old offenders,” he explained to the angry owner; “and +they are most persistent violators of the fish and game laws. You have +seen them caught in the act, and you may expect to be subpœnaed as +witness for the state when the trial comes off.” + +As he spoke he rounded alongside the skiff. It had been torn from the +line, a section of which was dragging to it. He hauled in forty or fifty +feet with a young sturgeon still fast in a tangle of barbless hooks, +slashed that much of the line free with his knife, and tossed it into the +cockpit beside the prisoners. + +“And there’s the evidence, Exhibit A, for the people,” Charley continued. +“Look it over carefully so that you may identify it in the court-room +with the time and place of capture.” + +And then, in triumph, with no more veering and yawing, we sailed into +Benicia, the King of the Greeks bound hard and fast in the cockpit, and +for the first time in his life a prisoner of the fish patrol. + + + + +A RAID ON THE OYSTER PIRATES + + +OF the fish patrolmen under whom we served at various times, Charley Le +Grant and I were agreed, I think, that Neil Partington was the best. He +was neither dishonest nor cowardly; and while he demanded strict +obedience when we were under his orders, at the same time our relations +were those of easy comradeship, and he permitted us a freedom to which we +were ordinarily unaccustomed, as the present story will show. + +Neil’s family lived in Oakland, which is on the Lower Bay, not more than +six miles across the water from San Francisco. One day, while scouting +among the Chinese shrimp-catchers of Point Pedro, he received word that +his wife was very ill; and within the hour the _Reindeer_ was bowling +along for Oakland, with a stiff northwest breeze astern. We ran up the +Oakland Estuary and came to anchor, and in the days that followed, while +Neil was ashore, we tightened up the _Reindeer’s_ rigging, overhauled the +ballast, scraped down, and put the sloop into thorough shape. + +This done, time hung heavy on our hands. Neil’s wife was dangerously +ill, and the outlook was a week’s lie-over, awaiting the crisis. Charley +and I roamed the docks, wondering what we should do, and so came upon the +oyster fleet lying at the Oakland City Wharf. In the main they were +trim, natty boats, made for speed and bad weather, and we sat down on the +stringer-piece of the dock to study them. + +“A good catch, I guess,” Charley said, pointing to the heaps of oysters, +assorted in three sizes, which lay upon their decks. + +Pedlers were backing their wagons to the edge of the wharf, and from the +bargaining and chaffering that went on, I managed to learn the selling +price of the oysters. + +“That boat must have at least two hundred dollars’ worth aboard,” I +calculated. “I wonder how long it took to get the load?” + +“Three or four days,” Charley answered. “Not bad wages for two +men—twenty-five dollars a day apiece.” + +The boat we were discussing, the _Ghost_, lay directly beneath us. Two +men composed its crew. One was a squat, broad-shouldered fellow with +remarkably long and gorilla-like arms, while the other was tall and well +proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat of straight black hair. So +unusual and striking was this combination of hair and eyes that Charley +and I remained somewhat longer than we intended. + +And it was well that we did. A stout, elderly man, with the dress and +carriage of a successful merchant, came up and stood beside us, looking +down upon the deck of the _Ghost_. He appeared angry, and the longer he +looked the angrier he grew. + +“Those are my oysters,” he said at last. “I know they are my oysters. +You raided my beds last night and robbed me of them.” + +The tall man and the short man on the _Ghost_ looked up. + +“Hello, Taft,” the short man said, with insolent familiarity. (Among the +bayfarers he had gained the nickname of “The Centipede” on account of his +long arms.) “Hello, Taft,” he repeated, with the same touch of +insolence. “Wot ’r you growling about now?” + +“Those are my oysters—that’s what I said. You’ve stolen them from my +beds.” + +“Yer mighty wise, ain’t ye?” was the Centipede’s sneering reply. “S’pose +you can tell your oysters wherever you see ’em?” + +“Now, in my experience,” broke in the tall man, “oysters is oysters +wherever you find ’em, an’ they’re pretty much alike all the Bay over, +and the world over, too, for that matter. We’re not wantin’ to quarrel +with you, Mr. Taft, but we jes’ wish you wouldn’t insinuate that them +oysters is yours an’ that we’re thieves an’ robbers till you can prove +the goods.” + +“I know they’re mine; I’d stake my life on it!” Mr. Taft snorted. + +“Prove it,” challenged the tall man, who we afterward learned was known +as “The Porpoise” because of his wonderful swimming abilities. + +Mr. Taft shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Of course he could not prove +the oysters to be his, no matter how certain he might be. + +“I’d give a thousand dollars to have you men behind the bars!” he cried. +“I’ll give fifty dollars a head for your arrest and conviction, all of +you!” + +A roar of laughter went up from the different boats, for the rest of the +pirates had been listening to the discussion. + +“There’s more money in oysters,” the Porpoise remarked dryly. + +Mr. Taft turned impatiently on his heel and walked away. From out of the +corner of his eye, Charley noted the way he went. Several minutes later, +when he had disappeared around a corner, Charley rose lazily to his feet. +I followed him, and we sauntered off in the opposite direction to that +taken by Mr. Taft. + +“Come on! Lively!” Charley whispered, when we passed from the view of +the oyster fleet. + +Our course was changed at once, and we dodged around corners and raced up +and down side-streets till Mr. Taft’s generous form loomed up ahead of +us. + +“I’m going to interview him about that reward,” Charley explained, as we +rapidly overhauled the oyster-bed owner. “Neil will be delayed here for +a week, and you and I might as well be doing something in the meantime. +What do you say?” + +“Of course, of course,” Mr. Taft said, when Charley had introduced +himself and explained his errand. “Those thieves are robbing me of +thousands of dollars every year, and I shall be glad to break them up at +any price,—yes, sir, at any price. As I said, I’ll give fifty dollars a +head, and call it cheap at that. They’ve robbed my beds, torn down my +signs, terrorized my watchmen, and last year killed one of them. +Couldn’t prove it. All done in the blackness of night. All I had was a +dead watchman and no evidence. The detectives could do nothing. Nobody +has been able to do anything with those men. We have never succeeded in +arresting one of them. So I say, Mr.—What did you say your name was?” + +“Le Grant,” Charley answered. + +“So I say, Mr. Le Grant, I am deeply obliged to you for the assistance +you offer. And I shall be glad, most glad, sir, to co-operate with you +in every way. My watchmen and boats are at your disposal. Come and see +me at the San Francisco offices any time, or telephone at my expense. +And don’t be afraid of spending money. I’ll foot your expenses, whatever +they are, so long as they are within reason. The situation is growing +desperate, and something must be done to determine whether I or that band +of ruffians own those oyster beds.” + +“Now we’ll see Neil,” Charley said, when he had seen Mr. Taft upon his +train to San Francisco. + +Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to our adventure, but +he proved to be of the greatest assistance. Charley and I knew nothing +of the oyster industry, while his head was an encyclopædia of facts +concerning it. Also, within an hour or so, he was able to bring to us a +Greek boy of seventeen or eighteen who knew thoroughly well the ins and +outs of oyster piracy. + +At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol were free +lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a patrolman proper, +received a regular salary, Charley and I, being merely deputies, received +only what we earned—that is to say, a certain percentage of the fines +imposed on convicted violators of the fish laws. Also, any rewards that +chanced our way were ours. We offered to share with Partington whatever +we should get from Mr. Taft, but the patrolman would not hear of it. He +was only too happy, he said, to do a good turn for us, who had done so +many for him. + +We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following line of +action. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, but as the +_Reindeer_ was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, the Greek boy, whose +name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some innocent-looking craft down to +Asparagus Island and join the oyster pirates’ fleet. Here, according to +Nicholas’s description of the beds and the manner of raiding, it was +possible for us to catch the pirates in the act of stealing oysters, and +at the same time to get them in our power. Charley was to be on the +shore, with Mr. Taft’s watchmen and a posse of constables, to help us at +the right time. + +“I know just the boat,” Neil said, at the conclusion of the discussion, +“a crazy old sloop that’s lying over at Tiburon. You and Nicholas can go +over by the ferry, charter it for a song, and sail direct for the beds.” + +“Good luck be with you, boys,” he said at parting, two days later. +“Remember, they are dangerous men, so be careful.” + +Nicholas and I succeeded in chartering the sloop very cheaply; and +between laughs, while getting up sail, we agreed that she was even +crazier and older than she had been described. She was a big, +flat-bottomed, square-sterned craft, sloop-rigged, with a sprung mast, +slack rigging, dilapidated sails, and rotten running-gear, clumsy to +handle and uncertain in bringing about, and she smelled vilely of coal +tar, with which strange stuff she had been smeared from stem to stern and +from cabin-roof to centreboard. And to cap it all, _Coal Tar Maggie_ was +printed in great white letters the whole length of either side. + +It was an uneventful though laughable run from Tiburon to Asparagus +Island, where we arrived in the afternoon of the following day. The +oyster pirates, a fleet of a dozen sloops, were lying at anchor on what +was known as the “Deserted Beds.” The _Coal Tar Maggie_ came sloshing +into their midst with a light breeze astern, and they crowded on deck to +see us. Nicholas and I had caught the spirit of the crazy craft, and we +handled her in most lubberly fashion. + +“Wot is it?” some one called. + +“Name it ’n’ ye kin have it!” called another. + +“I swan naow, ef it ain’t the old Ark itself!” mimicked the Centipede +from the deck of the _Ghost_. + +“Hey! Ahoy there, clipper ship!” another wag shouted. “Wot’s yer port?” + +We took no notice of the joking, but acted, after the manner of +greenhorns, as though the _Coal Tar Maggie_ required our undivided +attention. I rounded her well to windward of the _Ghost_, and Nicholas +ran for’ard to drop the anchor. To all appearances it was a bungle, the +way the chain tangled and kept the anchor from reaching the bottom. And +to all appearances Nicholas and I were terribly excited as we strove to +clear it. At any rate, we quite deceived the pirates, who took huge +delight in our predicament. + +But the chain remained tangled, and amid all kinds of mocking advice we +drifted down upon and fouled the _Ghost_, whose bowsprit poked square +through our mainsail and ripped a hole in it as big as a barn door. The +Centipede and the Porpoise doubled up on the cabin in paroxysms of +laughter, and left us to get clear as best we could. This, with much +unseaman-like performance, we succeeded in doing, and likewise in +clearing the anchor-chain, of which we let out about three hundred feet. +With only ten feet of water under us, this would permit the _Coal Tar +Maggie_ to swing in a circle six hundred feet in diameter, in which +circle she would be able to foul at least half the fleet. + +The oyster pirates lay snugly together at short hawsers, the weather +being fine, and they protested loudly at our ignorance in putting out +such an unwarranted length of anchor-chain. And not only did they +protest, for they made us heave it in again, all but thirty feet. + +Having sufficiently impressed them with our general lubberliness, +Nicholas and I went below to congratulate ourselves and to cook supper. +Hardly had we finished the meal and washed the dishes, when a skiff +ground against the _Coal Tar Maggie’s_ side, and heavy feet trampled on +deck. Then the Centipede’s brutal face appeared in the companionway, and +he descended into the cabin, followed by the Porpoise. Before they could +seat themselves on a bunk, another skiff came alongside, and another, and +another, till the whole fleet was represented by the gathering in the +cabin. + +“Where’d you swipe the old tub?” asked a squat and hairy man, with cruel +eyes and Mexican features. + +“Didn’t swipe it,” Nicholas answered, meeting them on their own ground +and encouraging the idea that we had stolen the _Coal Tar Maggie_. “And +if we did, what of it?” + +“Well, I don’t admire your taste, that’s all,” sneered he of the Mexican +features. “I’d rot on the beach first before I’d take a tub that +couldn’t get out of its own way.” + +“How were we to know till we tried her?” Nicholas asked, so innocently as +to cause a laugh. “And how do you get the oysters?” he hurried on. “We +want a load of them; that’s what we came for, a load of oysters.” + +“What d’ye want ’em for?” demanded the Porpoise. + +“Oh, to give away to our friends, of course,” Nicholas retorted. “That’s +what you do with yours, I suppose.” + +This started another laugh, and as our visitors grew more genial we could +see that they had not the slightest suspicion of our identity or purpose. + +“Didn’t I see you on the dock in Oakland the other day?” the Centipede +asked suddenly of me. + +“Yep,” I answered boldly, taking the bull by the horns. “I was watching +you fellows and figuring out whether we’d go oystering or not. It’s a +pretty good business, I calculate, and so we’re going in for it. That +is,” I hastened to add, “if you fellows don’t mind.” + +“I’ll tell you one thing, which ain’t two things,” he replied, “and that +is you’ll have to hump yerself an’ get a better boat. We won’t stand to +be disgraced by any such box as this. Understand?” + +“Sure,” I said. “Soon as we sell some oysters we’ll outfit in style.” + +“And if you show yerself square an’ the right sort,” he went on, “why, +you kin run with us. But if you don’t” (here his voice became stern and +menacing), “why, it’ll be the sickest day of yer life. Understand?” + +“Sure,” I said. + +After that and more warning and advice of similar nature, the +conversation became general, and we learned that the beds were to be +raided that very night. As they got into their boats, after an hour’s +stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with the assurance of “the +more the merrier.” + +“Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?” Nicholas asked, when +they had departed to their various sloops. “He’s Barchi, of the Sporting +Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him is Skilling. They’re both +out now on five thousand dollars’ bail.” + +I had heard of the Sporting Life Gang before, a crowd of hoodlums and +criminals that terrorized the lower quarters of Oakland, and two-thirds +of which were usually to be found in state’s prison for crimes that +ranged from perjury and ballot-box stuffing to murder. + +“They are not regular oyster pirates,” Nicholas continued. “They’ve just +come down for the lark and to make a few dollars. But we’ll have to +watch out for them.” + +We sat in the cockpit and discussed the details of our plan till eleven +o’clock had passed, when we heard the rattle of an oar in a boat from the +direction of the _Ghost_. We hauled up our own skiff, tossed in a few +sacks, and rowed over. There we found all the skiffs assembling, it +being the intention to raid the beds in a body. + +To my surprise, I found barely a foot of water where we had dropped +anchor in ten feet. It was the big June run-out of the full moon, and as +the ebb had yet an hour and a half to run, I knew that our anchorage +would be dry ground before slack water. + +Mr. Taft’s beds were three miles away, and for a long time we rowed +silently in the wake of the other boats, once in a while grounding and +our oar blades constantly striking bottom. At last we came upon soft mud +covered with not more than two inches of water—not enough to float the +boats. But the pirates at once were over the side, and by pushing and +pulling on the flat-bottomed skiffs, we moved steadily along. + +The full moon was partly obscured by high-flying clouds, but the pirates +went their way with the familiarity born of long practice. After half a +mile of the mud, we came upon a deep channel, up which we rowed, with +dead oyster shoals looming high and dry on either side. At last we +reached the picking grounds. Two men, on one of the shoals, hailed us +and warned us off. But the Centipede, the Porpoise, Barchi, and Skilling +took the lead, and followed by the rest of us, at least thirty men in +half as many boats, rowed right up to the watchmen. + +“You’d better slide outa this here,” Barchi said threateningly, “or we’ll +fill you so full of holes you wouldn’t float in molasses.” + +The watchmen wisely retreated before so overwhelming a force, and rowed +their boat along the channel toward where the shore should be. Besides, +it was in the plan for them to retreat. + +We hauled the noses of the boats up on the shore side of a big shoal, and +all hands, with sacks, spread out and began picking. Every now and again +the clouds thinned before the face of the moon, and we could see the big +oysters quite distinctly. In almost no time sacks were filled and +carried back to the boats, where fresh ones were obtained. Nicholas and +I returned often and anxiously to the boats with our little loads, but +always found some one of the pirates coming or going. + +“Never mind,” he said; “no hurry. As they pick farther and farther away, +it will take too long to carry to the boats. Then they’ll stand the full +sacks on end and pick them up when the tide comes in and the skiffs will +float to them.” + +Fully half an hour went by, and the tide had begun to flood, when this +came to pass. Leaving the pirates at their work, we stole back to the +boats. One by one, and noiselessly, we shoved them off and made them +fast in an awkward flotilla. Just as we were shoving off the last skiff, +our own, one of the men came upon us. It was Barchi. His quick eye took +in the situation at a glance, and he sprang for us; but we went clear +with a mighty shove, and he was left floundering in the water over his +head. As soon as he got back to the shoal he raised his voice and gave +the alarm. + +We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so many boats +in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a second, and a third; then a +regular fusillade began. The bullets spat and spat all about us; but +thick clouds had covered the moon, and in the dim darkness it was no more +than random firing. It was only by chance that we could be hit. + +“Wish we had a little steam launch,” I panted. + +“I’d just as soon the moon stayed hidden,” Nicholas panted back. + +It was slow work, but every stroke carried us farther away from the shoal +and nearer the shore, till at last the shooting died down, and when the +moon did come out we were too far away to be in danger. Not long +afterward we answered a shoreward hail, and two Whitehall boats, each +pulled by three pairs of oars, darted up to us. Charley’s welcome face +bent over to us, and he gripped us by the hands while he cried, “Oh, you +joys! You joys! Both of you!” + +When the flotilla had been landed, Nicholas and I and a watchman rowed +out in one of the Whitehalls, with Charley in the stern-sheets. Two +other Whitehalls followed us, and as the moon now shone brightly, we +easily made out the oyster pirates on their lonely shoal. As we drew +closer, they fired a rattling volley from their revolvers, and we +promptly retreated beyond range. + +“Lot of time,” Charley said. “The flood is setting in fast, and by the +time it’s up to their necks there won’t be any fight left in them.” + +So we lay on our oars and waited for the tide to do its work. This was +the predicament of the pirates: because of the big run-out, the tide was +now rushing back like a mill-race, and it was impossible for the +strongest swimmer in the world to make against it the three miles to the +sloops. Between the pirates and the shore were we, precluding escape in +that direction. On the other hand, the water was rising rapidly over the +shoals, and it was only a question of a few hours when it would be over +their heads. + +It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight we watched +them through our night glasses and told Charley of the voyage of the +_Coal Tar Maggie_. One o’clock came, and two o’clock, and the pirates +were clustering on the highest shoal, waist-deep in water. + +“Now this illustrates the value of imagination,” Charley was saying. +“Taft has been trying for years to get them, but he went at it with bull +strength and failed. Now we used our heads . . .” + +Just then I heard a scarcely audible gurgle of water, and holding up my +hand for silence, I turned and pointed to a ripple slowly widening out in +a growing circle. It was not more than fifty feet from us. We kept +perfectly quiet and waited. After a minute the water broke six feet +away, and a black head and white shoulder showed in the moonlight. With +a snort of surprise and of suddenly expelled breath, the head and +shoulder went down. + +We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the current. Four pairs +of eyes searched the surface of the water, but never another ripple +showed, and never another glimpse did we catch of the black head and +white shoulder. + +“It’s the Porpoise,” Nicholas said. “It would take broad daylight for us +to catch him.” + +At a quarter to three the pirates gave their first sign of weakening. We +heard cries for help, in the unmistakable voice of the Centipede, and +this time, on rowing closer, we were not fired upon. The Centipede was +in a truly perilous plight. Only the heads and shoulders of his +fellow-marauders showed above the water as they braced themselves against +the current, while his feet were off the bottom and they were supporting +him. + +“Now, lads,” Charley said briskly, “we have got you, and you can’t get +away. If you cut up rough, we’ll have to leave you alone and the water +will finish you. But if you’re good we’ll take you aboard, one man at a +time, and you’ll all be saved. What do you say?” + +“Ay,” they chorused hoarsely between their chattering teeth. + +“Then one man at a time, and the short men first.” + +The Centipede was the first to be pulled aboard, and he came willingly, +though he objected when the constable put the handcuffs on him. Barchi +was next hauled in, quite meek and resigned from his soaking. When we +had ten in, our boat we drew back, and the second Whitehall was loaded. +The third Whitehall received nine prisoners only—a catch of twenty-nine +in all. + +“You didn’t get the Porpoise,” the Centipede said exultantly, as though +his escape materially diminished our success. + +Charley laughed. “But we saw him just the same, a-snorting for shore +like a puffing pig.” + +It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up the beach +to the oyster house. In answer to Charley’s knock, the door was flung +open, and a pleasant wave of warm air rushed out upon us. + +“You can dry your clothes here, lads, and get some hot coffee,” Charley +announced, as they filed in. + +And there, sitting ruefully by the fire, with a steaming mug in his hand, +was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and I looked at Charley. He +laughed gleefully. + +“That comes of imagination,” he said. “When you see a thing, you’ve got +to see it all around, or what’s the good of seeing it at all? I saw the +beach, so I left a couple of constables behind to keep an eye on it. +That’s all.” + + + + +THE SIEGE OF THE “LANCASHIRE QUEEN” + + +POSSIBLY our most exasperating experience on the fish patrol was when +Charley Le Grant and I laid a two weeks’ siege to a big four-masted +English ship. Before we had finished with the affair, it became a pretty +mathematical problem, and it was by the merest chance that we came into +possession of the instrument that brought it to a successful termination. + +After our raid on the oyster pirates we had returned to Oakland, where +two more weeks passed before Neil Partington’s wife was out of danger and +on the highroad to recovery. So it was after an absence of a month, all +told, that we turned the _Reindeer’s_ nose toward Benicia. When the +cat’s away the mice will play, and in these four weeks the fishermen had +become very bold in violating the law. When we passed Point Pedro we +noticed many signs of activity among the shrimp-catchers, and, well into +San Pablo Bay, we observed a widely scattered fleet of Upper Bay +fishing-boats hastily pulling in their nets and getting up sail. + +This was suspicious enough to warrant investigation, and the first and +only boat we succeeded in boarding proved to have an illegal net. The +law permitted no smaller mesh for catching shad than one that measured +seven and one-half inches inside the knots, while the mesh of this +particular net measured only three inches. It was a flagrant breach of +the rules, and the two fishermen were forthwith put under arrest. Neil +Partington took one of them with him to help manage the _Reindeer_, while +Charley and I went on ahead with the other in the captured boat. + +But the shad fleet had headed over toward the Petaluma shore in wild +flight, and for the rest of the run through San Pablo Bay we saw no more +fishermen at all. Our prisoner, a bronzed and bearded Greek, sat +sullenly on his net while we sailed his craft. It was a new Columbia +River salmon boat, evidently on its first trip, and it handled +splendidly. Even when Charley praised it, our prisoner refused to speak +or to notice us, and we soon gave him up as a most unsociable fellow. + +We ran up the Carquinez Straits and edged into the bight at Turner’s +Shipyard for smoother water. Here were lying several English steel +sailing ships, waiting for the wheat harvest; and here, most +unexpectedly, in the precise place where we had captured Big Alec, we +came upon two Italians in a skiff that was loaded with a complete +“Chinese” sturgeon line. The surprise was mutual, and we were on top of +them before either they or we were aware. Charley had barely time to +luff into the wind and run up to them. I ran forward and tossed them a +line with orders to make it fast. One of the Italians took a turn with +it over a cleat, while I hastened to lower our big spritsail. This +accomplished, the salmon boat dropped astern, dragging heavily on the +skiff. + +Charley came forward to board the prize, but when I proceeded to haul +alongside by means of the line, the Italians cast it off. We at once +began drifting to leeward, while they got out two pairs of oars and rowed +their light craft directly into the wind. This manœuvre for the moment +disconcerted us, for in our large and heavily loaded boat we could not +hope to catch them with the oars. But our prisoner came unexpectedly to +our aid. His black eyes were flashing eagerly, and his face was flushed +with suppressed excitement, as he dropped the centre-board, sprang +forward with a single leap, and put up the sail. + +“I’ve always heard that Greeks don’t like Italians,” Charley laughed, as +he ran aft to the tiller. + +And never in my experience have I seen a man so anxious for the capture +of another as was our prisoner in the chase that followed. His eyes +fairly snapped, and his nostrils quivered and dilated in a most +extraordinary way. Charley steered while he tended the sheet; and though +Charley was as quick and alert as a cat, the Greek could hardly control +his impatience. + +The Italians were cut off from the shore, which was fully a mile away at +its nearest point. Did they attempt to make it, we could haul after them +with the wind abeam, and overtake them before they had covered an eighth +of the distance. But they were too wise to attempt it, contenting +themselves with rowing lustily to windward along the starboard side of a +big ship, the _Lancashire Queen_. But beyond the ship lay an open +stretch of fully two miles to the shore in that direction. This, also, +they dared not attempt, for we were bound to catch them before they could +cover it. So, when they reached the bow of the _Lancashire Queen_, +nothing remained but to pass around and row down her port side toward the +stern, which meant rowing to leeward and giving us the advantage. + +We in the salmon boat, sailing close on the wind, tacked about and +crossed the ship’s bow. Then Charley put up the tiller and headed down +the port side of the ship, the Greek letting out the sheet and grinning +with delight. The Italians were already half-way down the ship’s length; +but the stiff breeze at our back drove us after them far faster than they +could row. Closer and closer we came, and I, lying down forward, was +just reaching out to grasp the skiff, when it ducked under the great +stern of the _Lancashire Queen_. + +The chase was virtually where it had begun. The Italians were rowing up +the starboard side of the ship, and we were hauled close on the wind and +slowly edging out from the ship as we worked to windward. Then they +darted around her bow and began the row down her port side, and we tacked +about, crossed her bow, and went plunging down the wind hot after them. +And again, just as I was reaching for the skiff, it ducked under the +ship’s stern and out of danger. And so it went, around and around, the +skiff each time just barely ducking into safety. + +By this time the ship’s crew had become aware of what was taking place, +and we could see their heads in a long row as they looked at us over the +bulwarks. Each time we missed the skiff at the stern, they set up a wild +cheer and dashed across to the other side of the _Lancashire Queen_ to +see the chase to windward. They showered us and the Italians with jokes +and advice, and made our Greek so angry that at least once on each +circuit he raised his fist and shook it at them in a rage. They came to +look for this, and at each display greeted it with uproarious mirth. + +“Wot a circus!” cried one. + +“Tork about yer marine hippodromes,—if this ain’t one, I’d like to know!” +affirmed another. + +“Six-days-go-as-yer-please,” announced a third. “Who says the dagoes +won’t win?” + +On the next tack to windward the Greek offered to change places with +Charley. + +“Let-a me sail-a de boat,” he demanded. “I fix-a them, I catch-a them, +sure.” + +This was a stroke at Charley’s professional pride, for pride himself he +did upon his boat-sailing abilities; but he yielded the tiller to the +prisoner and took his place at the sheet. Three times again we made the +circuit, and the Greek found that he could get no more speed out of the +salmon boat than Charley had. + +“Better give it up,” one of the sailors advised from above. + +The Greek scowled ferociously and shook his fist in his customary +fashion. In the meanwhile my mind had not been idle, and I had finally +evolved an idea. + +“Keep going, Charley, one time more,” I said. + +And as we laid out on the next tack to windward, I bent a piece of line +to a small grappling hook I had seen lying in the bail-hole. The end of +the line I made fast to the ring-bolt in the bow, and with the hook out +of sight I waited for the next opportunity to use it. Once more they +made their leeward pull down the port side of the _Lancashire Queen_, and +once more we churned down after them before the wind. Nearer and nearer +we drew, and I was making believe to reach for them as before. The stern +of the skiff was not six feet away, and they were laughing at me +derisively as they ducked under the ship’s stern. At that instant I +suddenly arose and threw the grappling iron. It caught fairly and +squarely on the rail of the skiff, which was jerked backward out of +safety as the rope tautened and the salmon boat ploughed on. + +A groan went up from the row of sailors above, which quickly changed to a +cheer as one of the Italians whipped out a long sheath-knife and cut the +rope. But we had drawn them out of safety, and Charley, from his place +in the stern-sheets, reached over and clutched the stern of the skiff. +The whole thing happened in a second of time, for the first Italian was +cutting the rope and Charley was clutching the skiff when the second +Italian dealt him a rap over the head with an oar, Charley released his +hold and collapsed, stunned, into the bottom of the salmon boat, and the +Italians bent to their oars and escaped back under the ship’s stern. + +The Greek took both tiller and sheet and continued the chase around the +_Lancashire Queen_, while I attended to Charley, on whose head a nasty +lump was rapidly rising. Our sailor audience was wild with delight, and +to a man encouraged the fleeing Italians. Charley sat up, with one hand +on his head, and gazed about him sheepishly. + +“It will never do to let them escape now,” he said, at the same time +drawing his revolver. + +On our next circuit, he threatened the Italians with the weapon; but they +rowed on stolidly, keeping splendid stroke and utterly disregarding him. + +“If you don’t stop, I’ll shoot,” Charley said menacingly. + +But this had no effect, nor were they to be frightened into surrendering +even when he fired several shots dangerously close to them. It was too +much to expect him to shoot unarmed men, and this they knew as well as we +did; so they continued to pull doggedly round and round the ship. + +“We’ll run them down, then!” Charley exclaimed. “We’ll wear them out and +wind them!” + +So the chase continued. Twenty times more we ran them around the +_Lancashire Queen_, and at last we could see that even their iron muscles +were giving out. They were nearly exhausted, and it was only a matter of +a few more circuits, when the game took on a new feature. On the row to +windward they always gained on us, so that they were half-way down the +ship’s side on the row to leeward when we were passing the bow. But this +last time, as we passed the bow, we saw them escaping up the ship’s +gangway, which had been suddenly lowered. It was an organized move on +the part of the sailors, evidently countenanced by the captain; for by +the time we arrived where the gangway had been, it was being hoisted up, +and the skiff, slung in the ship’s davits, was likewise flying aloft out +of reach. + +The parley that followed with the captain was short and snappy. He +absolutely forbade us to board the _Lancashire Queen_, and as absolutely +refused to give up the two men. By this time Charley was as enraged as +the Greek. Not only had he been foiled in a long and ridiculous chase, +but he had been knocked senseless into the bottom of his boat by the men +who had escaped him. + +“Knock off my head with little apples,” he declared emphatically, +striking the fist of one hand into the palm of the other, “if those two +men ever escape me! I’ll stay here to get them if it takes the rest of +my natural life, and if I don’t get them, then I promise you I’ll live +unnaturally long or until I do get them, or my name’s not Charley Le +Grant!” + +And then began the siege of the _Lancashire Queen_, a siege memorable in +the annals of both fishermen and fish patrol. When the _Reindeer_ came +along, after a fruitless pursuit of the shad fleet, Charley instructed +Neil Partington to send out his own salmon boat, with blankets, +provisions, and a fisherman’s charcoal stove. By sunset this exchange of +boats was made, and we said good-by to our Greek, who perforce had to go +into Benicia and be locked up for his own violation of the law. After +supper, Charley and I kept alternate four-hour watches till daylight. +The fishermen made no attempt to escape that night, though the ship sent +out a boat for scouting purposes to find if the coast were clear. + +By the next day we saw that a steady siege was in order, and we perfected +our plans with an eye to our own comfort. A dock, known as the Solano +Wharf, which ran out from the Benicia shore, helped us in this. It +happened that the _Lancashire Queen_, the shore at Turner’s Shipyard, and +the Solano Wharf were the corners of a big equilateral triangle. From +ship to shore, the side of the triangle along which the Italians had to +escape, was a distance equal to that from the Solano Wharf to the shore, +the side of the triangle along which we had to travel to get to the shore +before the Italians. But as we could sail much faster than they could +row, we could permit them to travel about half their side of the triangle +before we darted out along our side. If we allowed them to get more than +half-way, they were certain to beat us to shore; while if we started +before they were half-way, they were equally certain to beat us back to +the ship. + +We found that an imaginary line, drawn from the end of the wharf to a +windmill farther along the shore, cut precisely in half the line of the +triangle along which the Italians must escape to reach the land. This +line made it easy for us to determine how far to let them run away before +we bestirred ourselves in pursuit. Day after day we would watch them +through our glasses as they rowed leisurely along toward the half-way +point; and as they drew close into line with the windmill, we would leap +into the boat and get up sail. At sight of our preparation, they would +turn and row slowly back to the _Lancashire Queen_, secure in the +knowledge that we could not overtake them. + +To guard against calms—when our salmon boat would be useless—we also had +in readiness a light rowing skiff equipped with spoon-oars. But at such +times, when the wind failed us, we were forced to row out from the wharf +as soon as they rowed from the ship. In the night-time, on the other +hand, we were compelled to patrol the immediate vicinity of the ship; +which we did, Charley and I standing four-hour watches turn and turn +about. The Italians, however, preferred the daytime in which to escape, +and so our long night vigils were without result. + +“What makes me mad,” said Charley, “is our being kept from our honest +beds while those rascally lawbreakers are sleeping soundly every night. +But much good may it do them,” he threatened. “I’ll keep them on that +ship till the captain charges them board, as sure as a sturgeon’s not a +catfish!” + +It was a tantalizing problem that confronted us. As long as we were +vigilant, they could not escape; and as long as they were careful, we +would be unable to catch them. Charley cudgelled his brains continually, +but for once his imagination failed him. It was a problem apparently +without other solution than that of patience. It was a waiting game, and +whichever waited the longer was bound to win. To add to our irritation, +friends of the Italians established a code of signals with them from the +shore, so that we never dared relax the siege for a moment. And besides +this, there were always one or two suspicious-looking fishermen hanging +around the Solano Wharf and keeping watch on our actions. We could do +nothing but “grin and bear it,” as Charley said, while it took up all our +time and prevented us from doing other work. + +The days went by, and there was no change in the situation. Not that no +attempts were made to change it. One night friends from the shore came +out in a skiff and attempted to confuse us while the two Italians +escaped. That they did not succeed was due to the lack of a little oil +on the ship’s davits. For we were drawn back from the pursuit of the +strange boat by the creaking of the davits, and arrived at the +_Lancashire Queen_ just as the Italians were lowering their skiff. +Another night, fully half a dozen skiffs rowed around us in the darkness, +but we held on like a leech to the side of the ship and frustrated their +plan till they grew angry and showered us with abuse. Charley laughed to +himself in the bottom of the boat. + +“It’s a good sign, lad,” he said to me. “When men begin to abuse, make +sure they’re losing patience; and shortly after they lose patience, they +lose their heads. Mark my words, if we only hold out, they’ll get +careless some fine day, and then we’ll get them.” + +But they did not grow careless, and Charley confessed that this was one +of the times when all signs failed. Their patience seemed equal to ours, +and the second week of the siege dragged monotonously along. Then +Charley’s lagging imagination quickened sufficiently to suggest a ruse. +Peter Boyelen, a new patrolman and one unknown to the fisher-folk, +happened to arrive in Benicia and we took him into our plan. We were as +secret as possible about it, but in some unfathomable way the friends +ashore got word to the beleaguered Italians to keep their eyes open. + +On the night we were to put our ruse into effect, Charley and I took up +our usual station in our rowing skiff alongside the _Lancashire Queen_. +After it was thoroughly dark, Peter Boyelen came out in a crazy duck +boat, the kind you can pick up and carry away under one arm. When we +heard him coming along, paddling noisily, we slipped away a short +distance into the darkness, and rested on our oars. Opposite the +gangway, having jovially hailed the anchor-watch of the _Lancashire +Queen_ and asked the direction of the _Scottish Chiefs_, another wheat +ship, he awkwardly capsized himself. The man who was standing the +anchor-watch ran down the gangway and hauled him out of the water. This +was what he wanted, to get aboard the ship; and the next thing he +expected was to be taken on deck and then below to warm up and dry out. +But the captain inhospitably kept him perched on the lowest gangway step, +shivering miserably and with his feet dangling in the water, till we, out +of very pity, rowed in from the darkness and took him off. The jokes and +gibes of the awakened crew sounded anything but sweet in our ears, and +even the two Italians climbed up on the rail and laughed down at us long +and maliciously. + +“That’s all right,” Charley said in a low voice, which I only could hear. +“I’m mighty glad it’s not us that’s laughing first. We’ll save our laugh +to the end, eh, lad?” + +He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he finished, but it seemed to me that +there was more determination than hope in his voice. + +It would have been possible for us to secure the aid of United States +marshals and board the English ship, backed by Government authority. But +the instructions of the Fish Commission were to the effect that the +patrolmen should avoid complications, and this one, did we call on the +higher powers, might well end in a pretty international tangle. + +The second week of the siege drew to its close, and there was no sign of +change in the situation. On the morning of the fourteenth day the change +came, and it came in a guise as unexpected and startling to us as it was +to the men we were striving to capture. + +Charley and I, after our customary night vigil by the side of the +_Lancashire Queen_, rowed into the Solana Wharf. + +“Hello!” cried Charley, in surprise. “In the name of reason and common +sense, what is that? Of all unmannerly craft did you ever see the like?” + +Well might he exclaim, for there, tied up to the dock, lay the strangest +looking launch I had ever seen. Not that it could be called a launch, +either, but it seemed to resemble a launch more than any other kind of +boat. It was seventy feet long, but so narrow was it, and so bare of +superstructure, that it appeared much smaller than it really was. It was +built wholly of steel, and was painted black. Three smokestacks, a good +distance apart and raking well aft, arose in single file amidships; while +the bow, long and lean and sharp as a knife, plainly advertised that the +boat was made for speed. Passing under the stern, we read _Streak_, +painted in small white letters. + +Charley and I were consumed with curiosity. In a few minutes we were on +board and talking with an engineer who was watching the sunrise from the +deck. He was quite willing to satisfy our curiosity, and in a few +minutes we learned that the _Streak_ had come in after dark from San +Francisco; that this was what might be called the trial trip; and that +she was the property of Silas Tate, a young mining millionaire of +California, whose fad was high-speed yachts. There was some talk about +turbine engines, direct application of steam, and the absence of pistons, +rods, and cranks,—all of which was beyond me, for I was familiar only +with sailing craft; but I did understand the last words of the engineer. + +“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour, though you +wouldn’t think it,” he concluded proudly. + +“Say it again, man! Say it again!” Charley exclaimed in an excited +voice. + +“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour,” the engineer +repeated, grinning good-naturedly. + +“Where’s the owner?” was Charley’s next question. “Is there any way I +can speak to him?” + +The engineer shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s asleep, you +see.” + +At that moment a young man in blue uniform came on deck farther aft and +stood regarding the sunrise. + +“There he is, that’s him, that’s Mr. Tate,” said the engineer. + +Charley walked aft and spoke to him, and while he talked earnestly the +young man listened with an amused expression on his face. He must have +inquired about the depth of water close in to the shore at Turner’s +Shipyard, for I could see Charley making gestures and explaining. A few +minutes later he came back in high glee. + +“Come on lad,” he said. “On to the dock with you. We’ve got them!” + +It was our good fortune to leave the _Streak_ when we did, for a little +later one of the spy fishermen appeared. Charley and I took up our +accustomed places, on the stringer-piece, a little ahead of the _Streak_ +and over our own boat, where we could comfortably watch the _Lancashire +Queen_. Nothing occurred till about nine o’clock, when we saw the two +Italians leave the ship and pull along their side of the triangle toward +the shore. Charley looked as unconcerned as could be, but before they +had covered a quarter of the distance, he whispered to me: + +“Forty-five miles an hour . . . nothing can save them . . . they are +ours!” + +Slowly the two men rowed along till they were nearly in line with the +windmill. This was the point where we always jumped into our salmon boat +and got up the sail, and the two men, evidently expecting it, seemed +surprised when we gave no sign. + +When they were directly in line with the windmill, as near to the shore +as to the ship, and nearer the shore than we had ever allowed them +before, they grew suspicious. We followed them through the glasses, and +saw them standing up in the skiff and trying to find out what we were +doing. The spy fisherman, sitting beside us on the stringer-piece was +likewise puzzled. He could not understand our inactivity. The men in +the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but stood up again and scanned it, as +if they thought we might be in hiding there. But a man came out on the +beach and waved a handkerchief to indicate that the coast was clear. +That settled them. They bent to the oars to make a dash for it. Still +Charley waited. Not until they had covered three-quarters of the +distance from the _Lancashire Queen_, which left them hardly more than a +quarter of a mile to gain the shore, did Charley slap me on the shoulder +and cry: + +“They’re ours! They’re ours!” + +We ran the few steps to the side of the _Streak_ and jumped aboard. +Stern and bow lines were cast off in a jiffy. The _Streak_ shot ahead +and away from the wharf. The spy fisherman we had left behind on the +stringer-piece pulled out a revolver and fired five shots into the air in +rapid succession. The men in the skiff gave instant heed to the warning, +for we could see them pulling away like mad. + +But if they pulled like mad, I wonder how our progress can be described? +We fairly flew. So frightful was the speed with which we displaced the +water, that a wave rose up on either side our bow and foamed aft in a +series of three stiff, up-standing waves, while astern a great crested +billow pursued us hungrily, as though at each moment it would fall aboard +and destroy us. The _Streak_ was pulsing and vibrating and roaring like +a thing alive. The wind of our progress was like a gale—a +forty-five-mile gale. We could not face it and draw breath without +choking and strangling. It blew the smoke straight back from the mouths +of the smoke-stacks at a direct right angle to the perpendicular. In +fact, we were travelling as fast as an express train. “We just +_streaked_ it,” was the way Charley told it afterward, and I think his +description comes nearer than any I can give. + +As for the Italians in the skiff—hardly had we started, it seemed to me, +when we were on top of them. Naturally, we had to slow down long before +we got to them; but even then we shot past like a whirlwind and were +compelled to circle back between them and the shore. They had rowed +steadily, rising from the thwarts at every stroke, up to the moment we +passed them, when they recognized Charley and me. That took the last bit +of fight out of them. They hauled in their oars, and sullenly submitted +to arrest. + +“Well, Charley,” Neil Partington said, as we discussed it on the wharf +afterward, “I fail to see where your boasted imagination came into play +this time.” + +But Charley was true to his hobby. “Imagination?” he demanded, pointing +to the _Streak_. “Look at that! just look at it! If the invention of +that isn’t imagination, I should like to know what is.” + +“Of course,” he added, “it’s the other fellow’s imagination, but it did +the work all the same.” + + + + +CHARLEY’S COUP + + +PERHAPS our most laughable exploit on the fish patrol, and at the same +time our most dangerous one, was when we rounded in, at a single haul, an +even score of wrathful fishermen. Charley called it a “coop,” having +heard Neil Partington use the term; but I think he misunderstood the +word, and thought it meant “coop,” to catch, to trap. The fishermen, +however, coup or coop, must have called it a Waterloo, for it was the +severest stroke ever dealt them by the fish patrol, while they had +invited it by open and impudent defiance of the law. + +During what is called the “open season” the fishermen might catch as many +salmon as their luck allowed and their boats could hold. But there was +one important restriction. From sun-down Saturday night to sun-up Monday +morning, they were not permitted to set a net. This was a wise provision +on the part of the Fish Commission, for it was necessary to give the +spawning salmon some opportunity to ascend the river and lay their eggs. +And this law, with only an occasional violation, had been obediently +observed by the Greek fishermen who caught salmon for the canneries and +the market. + +One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend in +Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was out with +its nets. Charley and I jumped into our salmon boat and started for the +scene of the trouble. With a light favoring wind at our back we went +through the Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun Bay, passed the Ship Island +Light, and came upon the whole fleet at work. + +But first let me describe the method by which they worked. The net used +is what is known as a gill-net. It has a simple diamond-shaped mesh +which measures at least seven and one-half inches between the knots. +From five to seven and even eight hundred feet in length, these nets are +only a few feet wide. They are not stationary, but float with the +current, the upper edge supported on the surface by floats, the lower +edge sunk by means of leaden weights. + +This arrangement keeps the net upright in the current and effectually +prevents all but the smaller fish from ascending the river. The salmon, +swimming near the surface, as is their custom, run their heads through +these meshes, and are prevented from going on through by their larger +girth of body, and from going back because of their gills, which catch in +the mesh. It requires two fishermen to set such a net,—one to row the +boat, while the other, standing in the stern, carefully pays out the net. +When it is all out, stretching directly across the stream, the men make +their boat fast to one end of the net and drift along with it. + +As we came upon the fleet of law-breaking fishermen, each boat two or +three hundred yards from its neighbors, and boats and nets dotting the +river as far as we could see, Charley said: + +“I’ve only one regret, lad, and that is that I have’nt a thousand arms so +as to be able to catch them all. As it is, we’ll only be able to catch +one boat, for while we are tackling that one it will be up nets and away +with the rest.” + +As we drew closer, we observed none of the usual flurry and excitement +which our appearance invariably produced. Instead, each boat lay quietly +by its net, while the fishermen favored us with not the slightest +attention. + +“It’s curious,” Charley muttered. “Can it be they don’t recognize us?” + +I said that it was impossible, and Charley agreed; yet there was a whole +fleet, manned by men who knew us only too well, and who took no more +notice of us than if we were a hay scow or a pleasure yacht. + +This did not continue to be the case, however, for as we bore down upon +the nearest net, the men to whom it belonged detached their boat and +rowed slowly toward the shore. The rest of the boats showed no, sign of +uneasiness. + +“That’s funny,” was Charley’s remark. “But we can confiscate the net, at +any rate.” + +We lowered sail, picked up one end of the net, and began to heave it into +the boat. But at the first heave we heard a bullet zip-zipping past us +on the water, followed by the faint report of a rifle. The men who had +rowed ashore were shooting at us. At the next heave a second bullet went +zipping past, perilously near. Charley took a turn around a pin and sat +down. There were no more shots. But as soon as he began to heave in, +the shooting recommenced. + +“That settles it,” he said, flinging the end of the net overboard. “You +fellows want it worse than we do, and you can have it.” + +We rowed over toward the next net, for Charley was intent on finding out +whether or not we were face to face with an organized defiance. As we +approached, the two fishermen proceeded to cast off from their net and +row ashore, while the first two rowed back and made fast to the net we +had abandoned. And at the second net we were greeted by rifle shots till +we desisted and went on to the third, where the manœuvre was again +repeated. + +Then we gave it up, completely routed, and hoisted sail and started on +the long windward beat back to Benicia. A number of Sundays went by, on +each of which the law was persistently violated. Yet, short of an armed +force of soldiers, we could do nothing. The fishermen had hit upon a new +idea and were using it for all it was worth, while there seemed no way by +which we could get the better of them. + +About this time Neil Partington happened along from the Lower Bay, where +he had been for a number of weeks. With him was Nicholas, the Greek boy +who had helped us in our raid on the oyster pirates, and the pair of them +took a hand. We made our arrangements carefully. It was planned that +while Charley and I tackled the nets, they were to be hidden ashore so as +to ambush the fishermen who landed to shoot at us. + +It was a pretty plan. Even Charley said it was. But we reckoned not +half so well as the Greeks. They forestalled us by ambushing Neil and +Nicholas and taking them prisoners, while, as of old, bullets whistled +about our ears when Charley and I attempted to take possession of the +nets. When we were again beaten off, Neil Partington and Nicholas were +released. They were rather shamefaced when they put in an appearance, +and Charley chaffed them unmercifully. But Neil chaffed back, demanding +to know why Charley’s imagination had not long since overcome the +difficulty. + +“Just you wait; the idea’ll come all right,” Charley promised. + +“Most probably,” Neil agreed. “But I’m afraid the salmon will be +exterminated first, and then there will be no need for it when it does +come.” + +Neil Partington, highly disgusted with his adventure, departed for the +Lower Bay, taking Nicholas with him, and Charley and I were left to our +own resources. This meant that the Sunday fishing would be left to +itself, too, until such time as Charley’s idea happened along. I puzzled +my head a good deal to find out some way of checkmating the Greeks, as +also did Charley, and we broached a thousand expedients which on +discussion proved worthless. + +The fishermen, on the other hand, were in high feather, and their boasts +went up and down the river to add to our discomfiture. Among all classes +of them we became aware of a growing insubordination. We were beaten, +and they were losing respect for us. With the loss of respect, contempt +began to arise. Charley began to be spoken of as the “olda woman,” and I +received my rating as the “pee-wee kid.” The situation was fast becoming +unbearable, and we knew that we should have to deliver a stunning stroke +at the Greeks in order to regain the old-time respect in which we had +stood. + +Then one morning the idea came. We were down on Steamboat Wharf, where +the river steamers made their landings, and where we found a group of +amused long-shoremen and loafers listening to the hard-luck tale of a +sleepy-eyed young fellow in long sea-boots. He was a sort of amateur +fisherman, he said, fishing for the local market of Berkeley. Now +Berkeley was on the Lower Bay, thirty miles away. On the previous night, +he said, he had set his net and dozed off to sleep in the bottom of the +boat. + +The next he knew it was morning, and he opened his eyes to find his boat +rubbing softly against the piles of Steamboat Wharf at Benicia. Also he +saw the river steamer _Apache_ lying ahead of him, and a couple of +deck-hands disentangling the shreds of his net from the paddle-wheel. In +short, after he had gone to sleep, his fisherman’s riding light had gone +out, and the _Apache_ had run over his net. Though torn pretty well to +pieces, the net in some way still remained foul, and he had had a +thirty-mile tow out of his course. + +Charley nudged me with his elbow. I grasped his thought on the instant, +but objected: + +“We can’t charter a steamboat.” + +“Don’t intend to,” he rejoined. “But let’s run over to Turner’s +Shipyard. I’ve something in my mind there that may be of use to us.” + +And over we went to the shipyard, where Charley led the way to the _Mary +Rebecca_, lying hauled out on the ways, where she was being cleaned and +overhauled. She was a scow-schooner we both knew well, carrying a cargo +of one hundred and forty tons and a spread of canvas greater than other +schooner on the bay. + +“How d’ye do, Ole,” Charley greeted a big blue-shirted Swede who was +greasing the jaws of the main gaff with a piece of pork rind. + +Ole grunted, puffed away at his pipe, and went on greasing. The captain +of a bay schooner is supposed to work with his hands just as well as the +men. + +Ole Ericsen verified Charley’s conjecture that the _Mary Rebecca_, as +soon as launched, would run up the San Joaquin River nearly to Stockton +for a load of wheat. Then Charley made his proposition, and Ole Ericsen +shook his head. + +“Just a hook, one good-sized hook,” Charley pleaded. + +“No, Ay tank not,” said Ole Ericsen. “Der _Mary Rebecca_ yust hang up on +efery mud-bank with that hook. Ay don’t want to lose der _Mary Rebecca_. +She’s all Ay got.” + +“No, no,” Charley hurried to explain. “We can put the end of the hook +through the bottom from the outside, and fasten it on the inside with a +nut. After it’s done its work, why, all we have to do is to go down into +the hold, unscrew the nut, and out drops the hook. Then drive a wooden +peg into the hole, and the _Mary Rebecca_ will be all right again.” + +Ole Ericsen was obstinate for a long time; but in the end, after we had +had dinner with him, he was brought round to consent. + +“Ay do it, by Yupiter!” he said, striking one huge fist into the palm of +the other hand. “But yust hurry you up wid der hook. Der _Mary Rebecca_ +slides into der water to-night.” + +It was Saturday, and Charley had need to hurry. We headed for the +shipyard blacksmith shop, where, under Charley’s directions, a most +generously curved book of heavy steel was made. Back we hastened to the +_Mary Rebecca_. Aft of the great centre-board case, through what was +properly her keel, a hole was bored. The end of the hook was inserted +from the outside, and Charley, on the inside, screwed the nut on tightly. +As it stood complete, the hook projected over a foot beneath the bottom +of the schooner. Its curve was something like the curve of a sickle, but +deeper. + +In the late afternoon the _Mary Rebecca_ was launched, and preparations +were finished for the start up-river next morning. Charley and Ole +intently studied the evening sky for signs of wind, for without a good +breeze our project was doomed to failure. They agreed that there were +all the signs of a stiff westerly wind—not the ordinary afternoon +sea-breeze, but a half-gale, which even then was springing up. + +Next morning found their predictions verified. The sun was shining +brightly, but something more than a half-gale was shrieking up the +Carquinez Straits, and the _Mary Rebecca_ got under way with two reefs in +her mainsail and one in her foresail. We found it quite rough in the +Straits and in Suisun Bay; but as the water grew more land-locked it +became calm, though without let-up in the wind. + +Off Ship Island Light the reefs were shaken out, and at Charley’s +suggestion a big fisherman’s staysail was made all ready for hoisting, +and the maintopsail, bunched into a cap at the masthead, was overhauled +so that it could be set on an instant’s notice. + +We were tearing along, wing-and-wing, before the wind, foresail to +starboard and mainsail to port, as we came upon the salmon fleet. There +they were, boats and nets, as on that first Sunday when they had bested +us, strung out evenly over the river as far as we could see. A narrow +space on the right-hand side of the channel was left clear for +steamboats, but the rest of the river was covered with the +wide-stretching nets. The narrow space was our logical course, but +Charley, at the wheel, steered the _Mary Rebecca_ straight for the nets. +This did not cause any alarm among the fishermen, because up-river +sailing craft are always provided with “shoes” on the ends of their +keels, which permit them to slip over the nets without fouling them. + +“Now she takes it!” Charley cried, as we dashed across the middle of a +line of floats which marked a net. At one end of this line was a small +barrel buoy, at the other the two fishermen in their boat. Buoy and boat +at once began to draw together, and the fishermen to cry out, as they +were jerked after us. A couple of minutes later we hooked a second net, +and then a third, and in this fashion we tore straight up through the +centre of the fleet. + +The consternation we spread among the fishermen was tremendous. As fast +as we hooked a net the two ends of it, buoy and boat, came together as +they dragged out astern; and so many buoys and boats, coming together at +such breakneck speed, kept the fishermen on the jump to avoid smashing +into one another. Also, they shouted at us like mad to heave to into the +wind, for they took it as some drunken prank on the part of scow-sailors, +little dreaming that we were the fish patrol. + +The drag of a single net is very heavy, and Charley and Ole Ericsen +decided that even in such a wind ten nets were all the _Mary Rebecca_ +could take along with her. So when we had hooked ten nets, with ten +boats containing twenty men streaming along behind us, we veered to the +left out of the fleet and headed toward Collinsville. + +We were all jubilant. Charley was handling the wheel as though he were +steering the winning yacht home in a race. The two sailors who made up +the crew of the _Mary Rebecca_, were grinning and joking. Ole Ericsen +was rubbing his huge hands in child-like glee. + +“Ay tank you fish patrol fallers never ban so lucky as when you sail with +Ole Ericsen,” he was saying, when a rifle cracked sharply astern, and a +bullet gouged along the newly painted cabin, glanced on a nail, and sang +shrilly onward into space. + +This was too much for Ole Ericsen. At sight of his beloved paintwork +thus defaced, he jumped up and shook his fist at the fishermen; but a +second bullet smashed into the cabin not six inches from his head, and he +dropped down to the deck under cover of the rail. + +All the fishermen had rifles, and they now opened a general fusillade. +We were all driven to cover—even Charley, who was compelled to desert the +wheel. Had it not been for the heavy drag of the nets, we would +inevitably have broached to at the mercy of the enraged fishermen. But +the nets, fastened to the bottom of the _Mary Rebecca_ well aft, held her +stern into the wind, and she continued to plough on, though somewhat +erratically. + +Charley, lying on the deck, could just manage to reach the lower spokes +of the wheel; but while he could steer after a fashion, it was very +awkward. Ole Ericsen bethought himself of a large piece of sheet steel +in the empty hold. + +It was in fact a plate from the side of the _New Jersey_, a steamer which +had recently been wrecked outside the Golden Gate, and in the salving of +which the _Mary Rebecca_ had taken part. + +Crawling carefully along the deck, the two sailors, Ole, and myself got +the heavy plate on deck and aft, where we reared it as a shield between +the wheel and the fishermen. The bullets whanged and banged against it +till it rang like a bull’s-eye, but Charley grinned in its shelter, and +coolly went on steering. + +So we raced along, behind us a howling, screaming bedlam of wrathful +Greeks, Collinsville ahead, and bullets spat-spatting all around us. + +“Ole,” Charley said in a faint voice, “I don’t know what we’re going to +do.” + +Ole Ericsen, lying on his back close to the rail and grinning upward at +the sky, turned over on his side and looked at him. “Ay tank we go into +Collinsville yust der same,” he said. + +“But we can’t stop,” Charley groaned. “I never thought of it, but we +can’t stop.” + +A look of consternation slowly overspread Ole Ericsen’s broad face. It +was only too true. We had a hornet’s nest on our hands, and to stop at +Collinsville would be to have it about our ears. + +“Every man Jack of them has a gun,” one of the sailors remarked +cheerfully. + +“Yes, and a knife, too,” the other sailor added. + +It was Ole Ericsen’s turn to groan. “What for a Svaidish faller like me +monkey with none of my biziness, I don’t know,” he soliloquized. + +A bullet glanced on the stern and sang off to starboard like a spiteful +bee. “There’s nothing to do but plump the _Mary Rebecca_ ashore and run +for it,” was the verdict of the first cheerful sailor. + +“And leaf der _Mary Rebecca_?” Ole demanded, with unspeakable horror in +his voice. + +“Not unless you want to,” was the response. “But I don’t want to be +within a thousand miles of her when those fellers come aboard”—indicating +the bedlam of excited Greeks towing behind. + +We were right in at Collinsville then, and went foaming by within +biscuit-toss of the wharf. + +“I only hope the wind holds out,” Charley said, stealing a glance at our +prisoners. + +“What of der wind?” Ole demanded disconsolately. “Der river will not +hold out, and then . . . and then . . .” + +“It’s head for tall timber, and the Greeks take the hindermost,” adjudged +the cheerful sailor, while Ole was stuttering over what would happen when +we came to the end of the river. + +We had now reached a dividing of the ways. To the left was the mouth of +the Sacramento River, to the right the mouth of the San Joaquin. The +cheerful sailor crept forward and jibed over the foresail as Charley put +the helm to starboard and we swerved to the right into the San Joaquin. +The wind, from which we had been running away on an even keel, now caught +us on our beam, and the _Mary Rebecca_ was pressed down on her port side +as if she were about to capsize. + +Still we dashed on, and still the fishermen dashed on behind. The value +of their nets was greater than the fines they would have to pay for +violating the fish laws; so to cast off from their nets and escape, which +they could easily do, would profit them nothing. Further, they remained +by their nets instinctively, as a sailor remains by his ship. And still +further, the desire for vengeance was roused, and we could depend upon it +that they would follow us to the ends of the earth, if we undertook to +tow them that far. + +The rifle-firing had ceased, and we looked astern to see what our +prisoners were doing. The boats were strung along at unequal distances +apart, and we saw the four nearest ones bunching together. This was done +by the boat ahead trailing a small rope astern to the one behind. When +this was caught, they would cast off from their net and heave in on the +line till they were brought up to the boat in front. So great was the +speed at which we were travelling, however, that this was very slow work. +Sometimes the men would strain to their utmost and fail to get in an inch +of the rope; at other times they came ahead more rapidly. + +When the four boats were near enough together for a man to pass from one +to another, one Greek from each of three got into the nearest boat to us, +taking his rifle with him. This made five in the foremost boat, and it +was plain that their intention was to board us. This they undertook to +do, by main strength and sweat, running hand over hand the float-line of +a net. And though it was slow, and they stopped frequently to rest, they +gradually drew nearer. + +Charley smiled at their efforts, and said, “Give her the topsail, Ole.” + +The cap at the mainmast head was broken out, and sheet and downhaul +pulled flat, amid a scattering rifle fire from the boats; and the _Mary +Rebecca_ lay over and sprang ahead faster than ever. + +But the Greeks were undaunted. Unable, at the increased speed, to draw +themselves nearer by means of their hands, they rigged from the blocks of +their boat sail what sailors call a “watch-tackle.” One of them, held by +the legs by his mates, would lean far over the bow and make the tackle +fast to the float-line. Then they would heave in on the tackle till the +blocks were together, when the manœuvre would be repeated. + +“Have to give her the staysail,” Charley said. + +Ole Ericsen looked at the straining _Mary Rebecca_ and shook his head. +“It will take der masts out of her,” he said. + +“And we’ll be taken out of her if you don’t,” Charley replied. + +Ole shot an anxious glance at his masts, another at the boat load of +armed Greeks, and consented. + +The five men were in the bow of the boat—a bad place when a craft is +towing. I was watching the behavior of their boat as the great +fisherman’s staysail, far, far larger than the topsail and used only in +light breezes, was broken out. As the _Mary Rebecca_ lurched forward +with a tremendous jerk, the nose of the boat ducked down into the water, +and the men tumbled over one another in a wild rush into the stern to +save the boat from being dragged sheer under water. + +“That settles them!” Charley remarked, though he was anxiously studying +the behavior of the _Mary Rebecca_, which was being driven under far more +canvas than she was rightly able to carry. + +“Next stop is Antioch!” announced the cheerful sailor, after the manner +of a railway conductor. “And next comes Merryweather!” + +“Come here, quick,” Charley said to me. + +I crawled across the deck and stood upright beside him in the shelter of +the sheet steel. + +“Feel in my inside pocket,” he commanded, “and get my notebook. That’s +right. Tear out a blank page and write what I tell you.” + +And this is what I wrote: + + Telephone to Merryweather, to the sheriff, the constable, or the + judge. Tell them we are coming and to turn out the town. Arm + everybody. Have them down on the wharf to meet us or we are gone + gooses. + +“Now make it good and fast to that marlin-spike, and stand by to toss it +ashore.” + +I did as he directed. By then we were close to Antioch. The wind was +shouting through our rigging, the _Mary Rebecca_ was half over on her +side and rushing ahead like an ocean greyhound. The seafaring folk of +Antioch had seen us breaking out topsail and staysail, a most reckless +performance in such weather, and had hurried to the wharf-ends in little +groups to find out what was the matter. + +Straight down the water front we boomed, Charley edging in till a man +could almost leap ashore. When he gave the signal I tossed the +marlinspike. It struck the planking of the wharf a resounding smash, +bounced along fifteen or twenty feet, and was pounced upon by the amazed +onlookers. + +It all happened in a flash, for the next minute Antioch was behind and we +were heeling it up the San Joaquin toward Merryweather, six miles away. +The river straightened out here into its general easterly course, and we +squared away before the wind, wing-and-wing once more, the foresail +bellying out to starboard. + +Ole Ericsen seemed sunk into a state of stolid despair. Charley and the +two sailors were looking hopeful, as they had good reason to be. +Merryweather was a coal-mining town, and, it being Sunday, it was +reasonable to expect the men to be in town. Further, the coal-miners had +never lost any love for the Greek fishermen, and were pretty certain to +render us hearty assistance. + +We strained our eyes for a glimpse of the town, and the first sight we +caught of it gave us immense relief. The wharves were black with men. +As we came closer, we could see them still arriving, stringing down the +main street, guns in their hands and on the run. Charley glanced astern +at the fishermen with a look of ownership in his eye which till then had +been missing. The Greeks were plainly overawed by the display of armed +strength and were putting their own rifles away. + +We took in topsail and staysail, dropped the main peak, and as we got +abreast of the principal wharf jibed the mainsail. The _Mary Rebecca_ +shot around into the wind, the captive fishermen describing a great arc +behind her, and forged ahead till she lost way, when lines we’re flung +ashore and she was made fast. This was accomplished under a hurricane of +cheers from the delighted miners. + +Ole Ericsen heaved a great sigh. “Ay never tank Ay see my wife never +again,” he confessed. + +“Why, we were never in any danger,” said Charley. + +Ole looked at him incredulously. + +“Sure, I mean it,” Charley went on. “All we had to do, any time, was to +let go our end—as I am going to do now, so that those Greeks can untangle +their nets.” + +He went below with a monkey-wrench, unscrewed the nut, and let the hook +drop off. When the Greeks had hauled their nets into their boats and +made everything shipshape, a posse of citizens took them off our hands +and led them away to jail. + +“Ay tank Ay ban a great big fool,” said Ole Ericsen. But he changed his +mind when the admiring townspeople crowded aboard to shake hands with +him, and a couple of enterprising newspaper men took photographs of the +_Mary Rebecca_ and her captain. + + + + +DEMETRIOS CONTOS + + +IT must not be thought, from what I have told of the Greek fishermen, +that they were altogether bad. Far from it. But they were rough men, +gathered together in isolated communities and fighting with the elements +for a livelihood. They lived far away from the law and its workings, did +not understand it, and thought it tyranny. Especially did the fish laws +seem tyrannical. And because of this, they looked upon the men of the +fish patrol as their natural enemies. + +We menaced their lives, or their living, which is the same thing, in many +ways. We confiscated illegal traps and nets, the materials of which had +cost them considerable sums and the making of which required weeks of +labor. We prevented them from catching fish at many times and seasons, +which was equivalent to preventing them from making as good a living as +they might have made had we not been in existence. And when we captured +them, they were brought into the courts of law, where heavy cash fines +were collected from them. As a result, they hated us vindictively. As +the dog is the natural enemy of the cat, the snake of man, so were we of +the fish patrol the natural enemies of the fishermen. + +But it is to show that they could act generously as well as hate bitterly +that this story of Demetrios Contos is told. Demetrios Contos lived in +Vallejo. Next to Big Alec, he was the largest, bravest, and most +influential man among the Greeks. He had given us no trouble, and I +doubt if he would ever have clashed with us had he not invested in a new +salmon boat. This boat was the cause of all the trouble. He had had it +built upon his own model, in which the lines of the general salmon boat +were somewhat modified. + +To his high elation he found his new boat very fast—in fact, faster than +any other boat on the bay or rivers. Forthwith he grew proud and +boastful: and, our raid with the _Mary Rebecca_ on the Sunday salmon +fishers having wrought fear in their hearts, he sent a challenge up to +Benicia. One of the local fishermen conveyed it to us; it was to the +effect that Demetrios Contos would sail up from Vallejo on the following +Sunday, and in the plain sight of Benicia set his net and catch salmon, +and that Charley Le Grant, patrolman, might come and get him if he could. +Of course Charley and I had heard nothing of the new boat. Our own boat +was pretty fast, and we were not afraid to have a brush with any other +that happened along. + +Sunday came. The challenge had been bruited abroad, and the fishermen +and seafaring folk of Benicia turned out to a man, crowding Steamboat +Wharf till it looked like the grand stand at a football match. Charley +and I had been sceptical, but the fact of the crowd convinced us that +there was something in Demetrios Contos’s dare. + +In the afternoon, when the sea-breeze had picked up in strength, his sail +hove into view as he bowled along before the wind. He tacked a score of +feet from the wharf, waved his hand theatrically, like a knight about to +enter the lists, received a hearty cheer in return, and stood away into +the Straits for a couple of hundred yards. Then he lowered sail, and, +drifting the boat sidewise by means of the wind, proceeded to set his +net. He did not set much of it, possibly fifty feet; yet Charley and I +were thunderstruck at the man’s effrontery. We did not know at the time, +but we learned afterward, that the net he used was old and worthless. It +_could_ catch fish, true; but a catch of any size would have torn it to +pieces. + +Charley shook his head and said: + +“I confess, it puzzles me. What if he has out only fifty feet? He could +never get it in if we once started for him. And why does he come here +anyway, flaunting his law-breaking in our faces? Right in our home town, +too.” + +Charley’s voice took on an aggrieved tone, and he continued for some +minutes to inveigh against the brazenness of Demetrios Contos. + +In the meantime, the man in question was lolling in the stern of his boat +and watching the net floats. When a large fish is meshed in a gill-net, +the floats by their agitation advertise the fact. And they evidently +advertised it to Demetrios, for he pulled in about a dozen feet of net, +and held aloft for a moment, before he flung it into the bottom of the +boat, a big, glistening salmon. It was greeted by the audience on the +wharf with round after round of cheers. This was more than Charley could +stand. + +“Come on, lad,” he called to me; and we lost no time jumping into our +salmon boat and getting up sail. + +The crowd shouted warning to Demetrios, and as we darted out from the +wharf we saw him slash his worthless net clear with a long knife. His +sail was all ready to go up, and a moment later it fluttered in the +sunshine. He ran aft, drew in the sheet, and filled on the long tack +toward the Contra Costa Hills. + +By this time we were not more than thirty feet astern. Charley was +jubilant. He knew our boat was fast, and he knew, further, that in fine +sailing few men were his equals. He was confident that we should surely +catch Demetrios, and I shared his confidence. But somehow we did not +seem to gain. + +It was a pretty sailing breeze. We were gliding sleekly through the +water, but Demetrios was slowly sliding away from us. And not only was +he going faster, but he was eating into the wind a fraction of a point +closer than we. This was sharply impressed upon us when he went about +under the Contra Costa Hills and passed us on the other tack fully one +hundred feet dead to windward. + +“Whew!” Charley exclaimed. “Either that boat is a daisy, or we’ve got a +five-gallon coal-oil can fast to our keel!” + +It certainly looked it one way or the other. And by the time Demetrios +made the Sonoma Hills, on the other side of the Straits, we were so +hopelessly outdistanced that Charley told me to slack off the sheet, and +we squared away for Benicia. The fishermen on Steamboat Wharf showered +us with ridicule when we returned and tied up. Charley and I got out and +walked away, feeling rather sheepish, for it is a sore stroke to one’s +pride when he thinks he has a good boat and knows how to sail it, and +another man comes along and beats him. + +Charley mooned over it for a couple of days; then word was brought to us, +as before, that on the next Sunday Demetrios Contos would repeat his +performance. Charley roused himself. He had our boat out of the water, +cleaned and repainted its bottom, made a trifling alteration about the +centre-board, overhauled the running gear, and sat up nearly all of +Saturday night sewing on a new and much larger sail. So large did he +make it, in fact, that additional ballast was imperative, and we stowed +away nearly five hundred extra pounds of old railroad iron in the bottom +of the boat. + +Sunday came, and with it came Demetrios Contos, to break the law +defiantly in open day. Again we had the afternoon sea-breeze, and again +Demetrios cut loose some forty or more feet of his rotten net, and got up +sail and under way under our very noses. But he had anticipated +Charley’s move, and his own sail peaked higher than ever, while a whole +extra cloth had been added to the after leech. + +It was nip and tuck across to the Contra Costa Hills, neither of us +seeming to gain or to lose. But by the time we had made the return tack +to the Sonoma Hills, we could see that, while we footed it at about equal +speed, Demetrios had eaten into the wind the least bit more than we. Yet +Charley was sailing our boat as finely and delicately as it was possible +to sail it, and getting more out of it than he ever had before. + +Of course, he could have drawn his revolver and fired at Demetrios; but +we had long since found it contrary to our natures to shoot at a fleeing +man guilty of only a petty offence. Also a sort of tacit agreement +seemed to have been reached between the patrolmen and the fishermen. If +we did not shoot while they ran away, they, in turn, did not fight if we +once laid hands on them. Thus Demetrios Contos ran away from us, and we +did no more than try our best to overtake him; and, in turn, if our boat +proved faster than his, or was sailed better, he would, we knew, make no +resistance when we caught up with him. + +With our large sails and the healthy breeze romping up the Carquinez +Straits, we found that our sailing was what is called “ticklish.” We had +to be constantly on the alert to avoid a capsize, and while Charley +steered I held the main-sheet in my hand with but a single turn round a +pin, ready to let go at any moment. Demetrios, we could see, sailing his +boat alone, had his hands full. + +But it was a vain undertaking for us to attempt to catch him. Out of his +inner consciousness he had evolved a boat that was better than ours. And +though Charley sailed fully as well, if not the least bit better, the +boat he sailed was not so good as the Greek’s. + +“Slack away the sheet,” Charley commanded; and as our boat fell off +before the wind, Demetrios’s mocking laugh floated down to us. + +Charley shook his head, saying, “It’s no use. Demetrios has the better +boat. If he tries his performance again, we must meet it with some new +scheme.” + +This time it was my imagination that came to the rescue. + +“What’s the matter,” I suggested, on the Wednesday following, “with my +chasing Demetrios in the boat next Sunday, while you wait for him on the +wharf at Vallejo when he arrives?” + +Charley considered it a moment and slapped his knee. + +“A good idea! You’re beginning to use that head of yours. A credit to +your teacher, I must say.” + +“But you mustn’t chase him too far,” he went on, the next moment, “or +he’ll head out into San Pablo Bay instead of running home to Vallejo, and +there I’ll be, standing lonely on the wharf and waiting in vain for him +to arrive.” + +On Thursday Charley registered an objection to my plan. + +“Everybody’ll know I’ve gone to Vallejo, and you can depend upon it that +Demetrios will know, too. I’m afraid we’ll have to give up the idea.” + +This objection was only too valid, and for the rest of the day I +struggled under my disappointment. But that night a new way seemed to +open to me, and in my eagerness I awoke Charley from a sound sleep. + +“Well,” he grunted, “what’s the matter? House afire?” + +“No,” I replied, “but my head is. Listen to this. On Sunday you and I +will be around Benicia up to the very moment Demetrios’s sail heaves into +sight. This will lull everybody’s suspicions. Then, when Demetrios’s +sail does heave in sight, do you stroll leisurely away and up-town. All +the fishermen will think you’re beaten and that you know you’re beaten.” + +“So far, so good,” Charley commented, while I paused to catch breath. + +“And very good indeed,” I continued proudly. “You stroll carelessly +up-town, but when you’re once out of sight you leg it for all you’re +worth for Dan Maloney’s. Take the little mare of his, and strike out on +the country road for Vallejo. The road’s in fine condition, and you can +make it in quicker time than Demetrios can beat all the way down against +the wind.” + +“And I’ll arrange right away for the mare, first thing in the morning,” +Charley said, accepting the modified plan without hesitation. + +“But, I say,” he said, a little later, this time waking _me_ out of a +sound sleep. + +I could hear him chuckling in the dark. + +“I say, lad, isn’t it rather a novelty for the fish patrol to be taking +to horseback?” + +“Imagination,” I answered. “It’s what you’re always preaching—‘keep +thinking one thought ahead of the other fellow, and you’re bound to win +out.’” + +“He! he!” he chuckled. “And if one thought ahead, including a mare, +doesn’t take the other fellow’s breath away this time, I’m not your +humble servant, Charley Le Grant.” + +“But can you manage the boat alone?” he asked, on Friday. “Remember, +we’ve a ripping big sail on her.” + +I argued my proficiency so well that he did not refer to the matter again +till Saturday, when he suggested removing one whole cloth from the after +leech. I guess it was the disappointment written on my face that made +him desist; for I, also, had a pride in my boat-sailing abilities, and I +was almost wild to get out alone with the big sail and go tearing down +the Carquinez Straits in the wake of the flying Greek. + +As usual, Sunday and Demetrios Contos arrived together. It had become +the regular thing for the fishermen to assemble on Steamboat Wharf to +greet his arrival and to laugh at our discomfiture. He lowered sail a +couple of hundred yards out and set his customary fifty feet of rotten +net. + +“I suppose this nonsense will keep up as long as his old net holds out,” +Charley grumbled, with intention, in the hearing of several of the +Greeks. + +“Den I give-a heem my old-a net-a,” one of them spoke up, promptly and +maliciously. + +“I don’t care,” Charley answered. “I’ve got some old net myself he can +have—if he’ll come around and ask for it.” + +They all laughed at this, for they could afford to be sweet-tempered with +a man so badly outwitted as Charley was. + +“Well, so long, lad,” Charley called to me a moment later. “I think I’ll +go up-town to Maloney’s.” + +“Let me take the boat out?” I asked. + +“If you want to,” was his answer, as he turned on his heel and walked +slowly away. + +Demetrios pulled two large salmon out of his net, and I jumped into the +boat. The fishermen crowded around in a spirit of fun, and when I +started to get up sail overwhelmed me with all sorts of jocular advice. +They even offered extravagant bets to one another that I would surely +catch Demetrios, and two of them, styling themselves the committee of +judges, gravely asked permission to come along with me to see how I did +it. + +But I was in no hurry. I waited to give Charley all the time I could, +and I pretended dissatisfaction with the stretch of the sail and slightly +shifted the small tackle by which the huge sprit forces up the peak. It +was not until I was sure that Charley had reached Dan Maloney’s and was +on the little mare’s back, that I cast off from the wharf and gave the +big sail to the wind. A stout puff filled it and suddenly pressed the +lee gunwale down till a couple of buckets of water came inboard. A +little thing like this will happen to the best small-boat sailors, and +yet, though I instantly let go the sheet and righted, I was cheered +sarcastically, as though I had been guilty of a very awkward blunder. + +When Demetrios saw only one person in the fish patrol boat, and that one +a boy, he proceeded to play with me. Making a short tack out, with me +not thirty feet behind, he returned, with his sheet a little free, to +Steamboat Wharf. And there he made short tacks, and turned and twisted +and ducked around, to the great delight of his sympathetic audience. I +was right behind him all the time, and I dared to do whatever he did, +even when he squared away before the wind and jibed his big sail over—a +most dangerous trick with such a sail in such a wind. + +He depended upon the brisk sea breeze and the strong ebb-tide, which +together kicked up a nasty sea, to bring me to grief. But I was on my +mettle, and never in all my life did I sail a boat better than on that +day. I was keyed up to concert pitch, my brain was working smoothly and +quickly, my hands never fumbled once, and it seemed that I almost divined +the thousand little things which a small-boat sailor must be taking into +consideration every second. + +It was Demetrios who came to grief instead. Something went wrong with +his centre-board, so that it jammed in the case and would not go all the +way down. In a moment’s breathing space, which he had gained from me by +a clever trick, I saw him working impatiently with the centre-board, +trying to force it down. I gave him little time, and he was compelled +quickly to return to the tiller and sheet. + +The centre-board made him anxious. He gave over playing with me, and +started on the long beat to Vallejo. To my joy, on the first long tack +across, I found that I could eat into the wind just a little bit closer +than he. Here was where another man in the boat would have been of value +to him; for, with me but a few feet astern, he did not dare let go the +tiller and run amidships to try to force down the centre-board. + +Unable to hang on as close in the eye of the wind as formerly, he +proceeded to slack his sheet a trifle and to ease off a bit, in order to +outfoot me. This I permitted him to do till I had worked to windward, +when I bore down upon him. As I drew close, he feinted at coming about. +This led me to shoot into the wind to forestall him. But it was only a +feint, cleverly executed, and he held back to his course while I hurried +to make up lost ground. + +He was undeniably smarter than I when it came to manœuvring. Time after +time I all but had him, and each time he tricked me and escaped. +Besides, the wind was freshening, constantly, and each of us had his +hands full to avoid capsizing. As for my boat, it could not have been +kept afloat but for the extra ballast. I sat cocked over the weather +gunwale, tiller in one hand and sheet in the other; and the sheet, with a +single turn around a pin, I was very often forced to let go in the +severer puffs. This allowed the sail to spill the wind, which was +equivalent to taking off so much driving power, and of course I lost +ground. My consolation was that Demetrios was as often compelled to do +the same thing. + +The strong ebb-tide, racing down the Straits in the teeth of the wind, +caused an unusually heavy and spiteful sea, which dashed aboard +continually. I was dripping wet, and even the sail was wet half-way up +the after leech. Once I did succeed in outmanœuvring Demetrios, so that +my bow bumped into him amidships. Here was where I should have had +another man. Before I could run forward and leap aboard, he shoved the +boats apart with an oar, laughing mockingly in my face as he did so. + +We were now at the mouth of the Straits, in a bad stretch of water. Here +the Vallejo Straits and the Carquinez Straits rushed directly at each +other. Through the first flowed all the water of Napa River and the +great tide-lands; through the second flowed all the water of Suisun Bay +and the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers. And where such immense bodies +of water, flowing swiftly, clashed together, a terrible tide-rip was +produced. To make it worse, the wind howled up San Pablo Bay for fifteen +miles and drove in a tremendous sea upon the tide-rip. + +Conflicting currents tore about in all directions, colliding, forming +whirlpools, sucks, and boils, and shooting up spitefully into hollow +waves which fell aboard as often from leeward as from windward. And +through it all, confused, driven into a madness of motion, thundered the +great smoking seas from San Pablo Bay. + +I was as wildly excited as the water. The boat was behaving splendidly, +leaping and lurching through the welter like a race-horse. I could +hardly contain myself with the joy of it. The huge sail, the howling +wind, the driving seas, the plunging boat—I, a pygmy, a mere speck in the +midst of it, was mastering the elemental strife, flying through it and +over it, triumphant and victorious. + +And just then, as I roared along like a conquering hero, the boat +received a frightful smash and came instantly to a dead stop. I was +flung forward and into the bottom. As I sprang up I caught a fleeting +glimpse of a greenish, barnacle-covered object, and knew it at once for +what it was, that terror of navigation, a sunken pile. No man may guard +against such a thing. Water-logged and floating just beneath the +surface, it was impossible to sight it in the troubled water in time to +escape. + +The whole bow of the boat must have been crushed in, for in a few seconds +the boat was half full. Then a couple of seas filled it, and it sank +straight down, dragged to bottom by the heavy ballast. So quickly did it +all happen that I was entangled in the sail and drawn under. When I +fought my way to the surface, suffocating, my lungs almost bursting, I +could see nothing of the oars. They must have been swept away by the +chaotic currents. I saw Demetrios Contos looking back from his boat, and +heard the vindictive and mocking tones of his voice as he shouted +exultantly. He held steadily on his course, leaving me to perish. + +There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that wild +confusion, was at the best a matter of but a few moments. Holding my +breath and working with my hands, I managed to get off my heavy sea-boots +and my jacket. Yet there was very little breath I could catch to hold, +and I swiftly discovered that it was not so much a matter of swimming as +of breathing. + +I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo +whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which flung +themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the strange sucks would +grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce boiling, +where, even as I tried to catch my breath, a great whitecap would crash +down upon my head. + +It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was breathing more +water than air, and drowning all the time. My senses began to leave me, +my head to whirl around. I struggled on, spasmodically, instinctively, +and was barely half conscious when I felt myself caught by the shoulders +and hauled over the gunwale of a boat. + +For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face downward, +and with the water running out of my mouth. After a while, still weak +and faint, I turned around to see who was my rescuer. And there, in the +stern, sheet in one hand and tiller in the other, grinning and nodding +good-naturedly, sat Demetrios Contos. He had intended to leave me to +drown,—he said so afterward,—but his better self had fought the battle, +conquered, and sent him back to me. + +“You all-a right?” he asked. + +I managed to shape a “yes” on my lips, though I could not yet speak. + +“You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a,” he said. “So good-a as a man.” + +A compliment from Demetrios Contos was a compliment indeed, and I keenly +appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in acknowledgment. + +We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he was busy +with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, made the boat fast, +and helped me out. Then it was, as we both stood on the wharf, that +Charley stepped out from behind a net-rack and put his hand on Demetrios +Contos’s arm. + +“He saved my life, Charley,” I protested; “and I don’t think he ought to +be arrested.” + +A puzzled expression came into Charley’s face, which cleared immediately +after, in a way it had when he made up his mind. + +“I can’t help it, lad,” he said kindly. “I can’t go back on my duty, and +it’s plain duty to arrest him. To-day is Sunday; there are two salmon in +his boat which he caught to-day. What else can I do?” + +“But he saved my life,” I persisted, unable to make any other argument. + +Demetrios Contos’s face went black with rage when he learned Charley’s +judgment. He had a sense of being unfairly treated. The better part of +his nature had triumphed, he had performed a generous act and saved a +helpless enemy, and in return the enemy was taking him to jail. + +Charley and I were out of sorts with each other when we went back to +Benicia. I stood for the spirit of the law and not the letter; but by +the letter Charley made his stand. As far as he could see, there was +nothing else for him to do. The law said distinctly that no salmon +should be caught on Sunday. He was a patrolman, and it was his duty to +enforce that law. That was all there was to it. He had done his duty, +and his conscience was clear. Nevertheless, the whole thing seemed +unjust to me, and I felt very sorry for Demetrios Contos. + +Two days later we went down to Vallejo to the trial. I had to go along +as a witness, and it was the most hateful task that I ever performed in +my life when I testified on the witness stand to seeing Demetrios catch +the two salmon Charley had captured him with. + +Demetrios had engaged a lawyer, but his case was hopeless. The jury was +out only fifteen minutes, and returned a verdict of guilty. The judge +sentenced Demetrios to pay a fine of one hundred dollars or go to jail +for fifty days. + +Charley stepped up to the clerk of the court. “I want to pay that fine,” +he said, at the same time placing five twenty-dollar gold pieces on the +desk. “It—it was the only way out of it, lad,” he stammered, turning to +me. + +The moisture rushed into my eyes as I seized his hand. “I want to pay—” +I began. + +“To pay your half?” he interrupted. “I certainly shall expect you to pay +it.” + +In the meantime Demetrios had been informed by his lawyer that his fee +likewise had been paid by Charley. + +Demetrios came over to shake Charley’s hand, and all his warm Southern +blood flamed in his face. Then, not to be outdone in generosity, he +insisted on paying his fine and lawyer’s fee himself, and flew half-way +into a passion because Charley refused to let him. + +More than anything else we ever did, I think, this action of Charley’s +impressed upon the fishermen the deeper significance of the law. Also +Charley was raised high in their esteem, while I came in for a little +share of praise as a boy who knew how to sail a boat. Demetrios Contos +not only never broke the law again, but he became a very good friend of +ours, and on more than one occasion he ran up to Benicia to have a gossip +with us. + + + + +YELLOW HANDKERCHIEF + + +“I’M not wanting to dictate to you, lad,” Charley said; “but I’m very +much against your making a last raid. You’ve gone safely through rough +times with rough men, and it would be a shame to have something happen to +you at the very end.” + +“But how can I get out of making a last raid?” I demanded, with the +cocksureness of youth. “There always has to be a last, you know, to +anything.” + +Charley crossed his legs, leaned back, and considered the problem. “Very +true. But why not call the capture of Demetrios Contos the last? You’re +back from it safe and sound and hearty, for all your good wetting, +and—and—” His voice broke and he could not speak for a moment. “And I +could never forgive myself if anything happened to you now.” + +I laughed at Charley’s fears while I gave in to the claims of his +affection, and agreed to consider the last raid already performed. We +had been together for two years, and now I was leaving the fish patrol in +order to go back and finish my education. I had earned and saved money +to put me through three years at the high school, and though the +beginning of the term was several months away, I intended doing a lot of +studying for the entrance examinations. + +My belongings were packed snugly in a sea-chest, and I was all ready to +buy my ticket and ride down on the train to Oakland, when Neil Partington +arrived in Benicia. The _Reindeer_ was needed immediately for work far +down on the Lower Bay, and Neil said he intended to run straight for +Oakland. As that was his home and as I was to live with his family while +going to school, he saw no reason, he said, why I should not put my chest +aboard and come along. + +So the chest went aboard, and in the middle of the afternoon we hoisted +the _Reindeer’s_ big mainsail and cast off. It was tantalizing fall +weather. The sea-breeze, which had blown steadily all summer, was gone, +and in its place were capricious winds and murky skies which made the +time of arriving anywhere extremely problematical. We started on the +first of the ebb, and as we slipped down the Carquinez Straits, I looked +my last for some time upon Benicia and the bight at Turner’s Shipyard, +where we had besieged the _Lancashire Queen_, and had captured Big Alec, +the King of the Greeks. And at the mouth of the Straits I looked with +not a little interest upon the spot where a few days before I should have +drowned but for the good that was in the nature of Demetrios Contos. + +A great wall of fog advanced across San Pablo Bay to meet us, and in a +few minutes the _Reindeer_ was running blindly through the damp +obscurity. Charley, who was steering, seemed to have an instinct for +that kind of work. How he did it, he himself confessed that he did not +know; but he had a way of calculating winds, currents, distance, time, +drift, and sailing speed that was truly marvellous. + +“It looks as though it were lifting,” Neil Partington said, a couple of +hours after we had entered the fog. “Where do you say we are, Charley?” + +Charley looked at his watch, “Six o’clock, and three hours more of ebb,” +he remarked casually. + +“But where do you say we are?” Neil insisted. + +Charley pondered a moment, and then answered, “The tide has edged us over +a bit out of our course, but if the fog lifts right now, as it is going +to lift, you’ll find we’re not more than a thousand miles off McNear’s +Landing.” + +“You might be a little more definite by a few miles, anyway,” Neil +grumbled, showing by his tone that he disagreed. + +“All right, then,” Charley said, conclusively, “not less than a quarter +of a mile, not more than a half.” + +The wind freshened with a couple of little puffs, and the fog thinned +perceptibly. + +“McNear’s is right off there,” Charley said, pointing directly into the +fog on our weather beam. + +The three of us were peering intently in that direction, when the +_Reindeer_ struck with a dull crash and came to a standstill. We ran +forward, and found her bowsprit entangled in the tanned rigging of a +short, chunky mast. She had collided, head on, with a Chinese junk lying +at anchor. + +At the moment we arrived forward, five Chinese, like so many bees, came +swarming out of the little ’tween-decks cabin, the sleep still in their +eyes. + +Leading them came a big, muscular man, conspicuous for his pock-marked +face and the yellow silk handkerchief swathed about his head. It was +Yellow Handkerchief, the Chinaman whom we had arrested for illegal +shrimp-fishing the year before, and who, at that time, had nearly sunk +the _Reindeer_, as he had nearly sunk it now by violating the rules of +navigation. + +“What d’ye mean, you yellow-faced heathen, lying here in a fairway +without a horn a-going?” Charley cried hotly. + +“Mean?” Neil calmly answered. “Just take a look—that’s what he means.” + +Our eyes followed the direction indicated by Neil’s finger, and we saw +the open amidships of the junk, half filled, as we found on closer +examination, with fresh-caught shrimps. Mingled with the shrimps were +myriads of small fish, from a quarter of an inch upward in size. + +Yellow Handkerchief had lifted the trap-net at high-water slack, and, +taking advantage of the concealment offered by the fog, had boldly been +lying by, waiting to lift the net again at low-water slack. + +“Well,” Neil hummed and hawed, “in all my varied and extensive experience +as a fish patrolman, I must say this is the easiest capture I ever made. +What’ll we do with them, Charley?” + +“Tow the junk into San Rafael, of course,” came the answer. Charley +turned to me. “You stand by the junk, lad, and I’ll pass you a towing +line. If the wind doesn’t fail us, we’ll make the creek before the tide +gets too low, sleep at San Rafael, and arrive in Oakland to-morrow by +midday.” + +So saying, Charley and Neil returned to the _Reindeer_ and got under way, +the junk towing astern. I went aft and took charge of the prize, +steering by means of an antiquated tiller and a rudder with large, +diamond-shaped holes, through which the water rushed back and forth. + +By now the last of the fog had vanished, and Charley’s estimate of our +position was confirmed by the sight of McNear’s Landing a short half-mile +away. Following along the west shore, we rounded Point Pedro in plain +view of the Chinese shrimp villages, and a great to-do was raised when +they saw one of their junks towing behind the familiar fish patrol sloop. + +The wind, coming off the land, was rather puffy and uncertain, and it +would have been more to our advantage had it been stronger. San Rafael +Creek, up which we had to go to reach the town and turn over our +prisoners to the authorities, ran through wide-stretching marshes, and +was difficult to navigate on a falling tide, while at low tide it was +impossible to navigate at all. So, with the tide already half-ebbed, it +was necessary for us to make time. This the heavy junk prevented, +lumbering along behind and holding the _Reindeer_ back by just so much +dead weight. + +“Tell those coolies to get up that sail,” Charley finally called to me. +“We don’t want to hang up on the mud flats for the rest of the night.” + +I repeated the order to Yellow Handkerchief, who mumbled it huskily to +his men. He was suffering from a bad cold, which doubled him up in +convulsive coughing spells and made his eyes heavy and bloodshot. This +made him more evil-looking than ever, and when he glared viciously at me +I remembered with a shiver the close shave I had had with him at the time +of his previous arrest. + +His crew sullenly tailed on to the halyards, and the strange, outlandish +sail, lateen in rig and dyed a warm brown, rose in the air. We were +sailing on the wind, and when Yellow Handkerchief flattened down the +sheet the junk forged ahead and the tow-line went slack. Fast as the +_Reindeer_ could sail, the junk outsailed her; and to avoid running her +down I hauled a little closer on the wind. But the junk likewise +outpointed, and in a couple of minutes I was abreast of the _Reindeer_ +and to windward. The tow-line had now tautened, at right angles to the +two boats, and the predicament was laughable. + +“Cast off!” I shouted. + +Charley hesitated. + +“It’s all right,” I added. “Nothing can happen. We’ll make the creek on +this tack, and you’ll be right behind me all the way up to San Rafael.” + +At this Charley cast off, and Yellow Handkerchief sent one of his men +forward to haul in the line. In the gathering darkness I could just make +out the mouth of San Rafael Creek, and by the time we entered it I could +barely see its banks. The _Reindeer_ was fully five minutes astern, and +we continued to leave her astern as we beat up the narrow, winding +channel. With Charley behind us, it seemed I had little to fear from my +five prisoners; but the darkness prevented my keeping a sharp eye on +them, so I transferred my revolver from my trousers pocket to the side +pocket of my coat, where I could more quickly put my hand on it. + +Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared, and that he knew it and made +use of it, subsequent events will show. He was sitting a few feet away +from me, on what then happened to be the weather side of the junk. I +could scarcely see the outlines of his form, but I soon became convinced +that he was slowly, very slowly, edging closer to me. I watched him +carefully. Steering with my left hand, I slipped my right into my pocket +and got hold of the revolver. + +I saw him shift along for a couple of inches, and I was just about to +order him back—the words were trembling on the tip of my tongue—when I +was struck with great force by a heavy figure that had leaped through the +air upon me from the lee side. It was one of the crew. He pinioned my +right arm so that I could not withdraw my hand from my pocket, and at the +same time clapped his other hand over my mouth. Of course, I could have +struggled away from him and freed my hand or gotten my mouth clear so +that I might cry an alarm, but in a trice Yellow Handkerchief was on top +of me. + +I struggled around to no purpose in the bottom of the junk, while my legs +and arms were tied and my mouth securely bound in what I afterward found +to be a cotton shirt. Then I was left lying in the bottom. Yellow +Handkerchief took the tiller, issuing his orders in whispers; and from +our position at the time, and from the alteration of the sail, which I +could dimly make out above me as a blot against the stars, I knew the +junk was being headed into the mouth of a small slough which emptied at +that point into San Rafael Creek. + +In a couple of minutes we ran softly alongside the bank, and the sail was +silently lowered. The Chinese kept very quiet. Yellow Handkerchief sat +down in the bottom alongside of me, and I could feel him straining to +repress his raspy, hacking cough. Possibly seven or eight minutes later +I heard Charley’s voice as the _Reindeer_ went past the mouth of the +slough. + +“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” I could plainly hear him saying to +Neil, “that the lad has finished with the fish patrol without accident.” + +Here Neil said something which I could not catch, and then Charley’s +voice went on: + +“The youngster takes naturally to the water, and if, when he finishes +high school, he takes a course in navigation and goes deep sea, I see no +reason why he shouldn’t rise to be master of the finest and biggest ship +afloat.” + +It was all very flattering to me, but lying there, bound and gagged by my +own prisoners, with the voices growing faint and fainter as the +_Reindeer_ slipped on through the darkness toward San Rafael, I must say +I was not in quite the proper situation to enjoy my smiling future. With +the _Reindeer_ went my last hope. What was to happen next I could not +imagine, for the Chinese were a different race from mine, and from what I +knew I was confident that fair play was no part of their make-up. + +After waiting a few minutes longer, the crew hoisted the lateen sail, and +Yellow Handkerchief steered down toward the mouth of San Rafael Creek. +The tide was getting lower, and he had difficulty in escaping the +mud-banks. I was hoping he would run aground, but he succeeded in making +the Bay without accident. + +As we passed out of the creek a noisy discussion arose, which I knew +related to me. Yellow Handkerchief was vehement, but the other four as +vehemently opposed him. It was very evident that he advocated doing away +with me and that they were afraid of the consequences. I was familiar +enough with the Chinese character to know that fear alone restrained +them. But what plan they offered in place of Yellow Handkerchief’s +murderous one, I could not make out. + +My feelings, as my fate hung in the balance, may be guessed. The +discussion developed into a quarrel, in the midst of which Yellow +Handkerchief unshipped the heavy tiller and sprang toward me. But his +four companions threw themselves between, and a clumsy struggle took +place for possession of the tiller. In the end Yellow Handkerchief was +overcome, and sullenly returned to the steering, while they soundly +berated him for his rashness. + +Not long after, the sail was run down and the junk slowly urged forward +by means of the sweeps. I felt it ground gently on the soft mud. Three +of the Chinese—they all wore long sea-boots—got over the side, and the +other two passed me across the rail. With Yellow Handkerchief at my legs +and his two companions at my shoulders, they began to flounder along +through the mud. After some time their feet struck firmer footing, and I +knew they were carrying me up some beach. The location of this beach was +not doubtful in my mind. It could be none other than one of the Marin +Islands, a group of rocky islets which lay off the Marin County shore. + +When they reached the firm sand that marked high tide, I was dropped, and +none too gently. Yellow Handkerchief kicked me spitefully in the ribs, +and then the trio floundered back through the mud to the junk. A moment +later I heard the sail go up and slat in the wind as they drew in the +sheet. Then silence fell, and I was left to my own devices for getting +free. + +I remembered having seen tricksters writhe and squirm out of ropes with +which they were bound, but though I writhed and squirmed like a good +fellow, the knots remained as hard as ever, and there was no appreciable +slack. In the course of my squirming, however, I rolled over upon a heap +of clam-shells—the remains, evidently, of some yachting party’s +clam-bake. This gave me an idea. My hands were tied behind my back; +and, clutching a shell in them, I rolled over and over, up the beach, +till I came to the rocks I knew to be there. + +Rolling around and searching, I finally discovered a narrow crevice, into +which I shoved the shell. The edge of it was sharp, and across the sharp +edge I proceeded to saw the rope that bound my wrists. The edge of the +shell was also brittle, and I broke it by bearing too heavily upon it. +Then I rolled back to the heap and returned with as many shells as I +could carry in both hands. I broke many shells, cut my hands a number of +times, and got cramps in my legs from my strained position and my +exertions. + +While I was suffering from the cramps, and resting, I heard a familiar +halloo drift across the water. It was Charley, searching for me. The +gag in my mouth prevented me from replying, and I could only lie there, +helplessly fuming, while he rowed past the island and his voice slowly +lost itself in the distance. + +I returned to the sawing process, and at the end of half an hour +succeeded in severing the rope. The rest was easy. My hands once free, +it was a matter of minutes to loosen my legs and to take the gag out of +my mouth. I ran around the island to make sure it _was_ an island and +not by any chance a portion of the mainland. An island it certainly was, +one of the Marin group, fringed with a sandy beach and surrounded by a +sea of mud. Nothing remained but to wait till daylight and to keep warm; +for it was a cold, raw night for California, with just enough wind to +pierce the skin and cause one to shiver. + +To keep up the circulation, I ran around the island a dozen times or so, +and clambered across its rocky backbone as many times more—all of which +was of greater service to me, as I afterward discovered, than merely to +warm me up. In the midst of this exercise I wondered if I had lost +anything out of my pockets while rolling over and over in the sand. A +search showed the absence of my revolver and pocket-knife. The first +Yellow Handkerchief had taken; but the knife had been lost in the sand. + +I was hunting for it when the sound of rowlocks came to my ears. At +first, of course, I thought of Charley; but on second thought I knew +Charley would be calling out as he rowed along. A sudden premonition of +danger seized me. The Marin Islands are lonely places; chance visitors +in the dead of night are hardly to be expected. What if it were Yellow +Handkerchief? The sound made by the rowlocks grew more distinct. I +crouched in the sand and listened intently. The boat, which I judged a +small skiff from the quick stroke of the oars, was landing in the mud +about fifty yards up the beach. I heard a raspy, hacking cough, and my +heart stood still. It was Yellow Handkerchief. Not to be robbed of his +revenge by his more cautious companions, he had stolen away from the +village and come back alone. + +I did some swift thinking. I was unarmed and helpless on a tiny islet, +and a yellow barbarian, whom I had reason to fear, was coming after me. +Any place was safer than the island, and I turned instinctively to the +water, or rather to the mud. As he began to flounder ashore through the +mud, I started to flounder out into it, going over the same course which +the Chinese had taken in landing me and in returning to the junk. + +Yellow Handkerchief, believing me to be lying tightly bound, exercised no +care, but came ashore noisily. This helped me, for, under the shield of +his noise and making no more myself than necessary, I managed to cover +fifty feet by the time he had made the beach. Here I lay down in the +mud. It was cold and clammy, and made me shiver, but I did not care to +stand up and run the risk of being discovered by his sharp eyes. + +He walked down the beach straight to where he had left me lying, and I +had a fleeting feeling of regret at not being able to see his surprise +when he did not find me. But it was a very fleeting regret, for my teeth +were chattering with the cold. + +What his movements were after that I had largely to deduce from the facts +of the situation, for I could scarcely see him in the dim starlight. But +I was sure that the first thing he did was to make the circuit of the +beach to learn if landings had been made by other boats. This he would +have known at once by the tracks through the mud. + +Convinced that no boat had removed me from the island, he next started to +find out what had become of me. Beginning at the pile of clam-shells, he +lighted matches to trace my tracks in the sand. At such times I could +see his villanous face plainly, and, when the sulphur from the matches +irritated his lungs, between the raspy cough that followed and the clammy +mud in which I was lying, I confess I shivered harder than ever. + +The multiplicity of my footprints puzzled him. Then the idea that I +might be out in the mud must have struck him, for he waded out a few +yards in my direction, and, stooping, with his eyes searched the dim +surface long and carefully. He could not have been more than fifteen +feet from me, and had he lighted a match he would surely have discovered +me. + +He returned to the beach and clambered about, over the rocky backbone, +again hunting for me with lighted matches, The closeness of the shave +impelled me to further flight. Not daring to wade upright, on account of +the noise made by floundering and by the suck of the mud, I remained +lying down in the mud and propelled myself over its surface by means of +my hands. Still keeping the trail made by the Chinese in going from and +to the junk, I held on until I reached the water. Into this I waded to a +depth of three feet, and then I turned off to the side on a line parallel +with the beach. + +The thought came to me of going toward Yellow Handkerchief’s skiff and +escaping in it, but at that very moment he returned to the beach, and, as +though fearing the very thing I had in mind, he slushed out through the +mud to assure himself that the skiff was safe. This turned me in the +opposite direction. Half swimming, half wading, with my head just out of +water and avoiding splashing, I succeeded in putting about a hundred feet +between myself and the spot where the Chinese had begun to wade ashore +from the junk. I drew myself out on the mud and remained lying flat. + +Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a search of the +island, and again he returned to the heap of clam-shells. I knew what +was running in his mind as well as he did himself. No one could leave or +land without making tracks in the mud. The only tracks to be seen were +those leading from his skiff and from where the junk had been. I was not +on the island. I must have left it by one or the other of those two +tracks. He had just been over the one to his skiff, and was certain I +had not left that way. Therefore I could have left the island only by +going over the tracks of the junk landing. This he proceeded to verify +by wading out over them himself, lighting matches as he came along. + +When he arrived at the point where I had first lain, I knew, by the +matches he burned and the time he took, that he had discovered the marks +left by my body. These he followed straight to the water and into it, +but in three feet of water he could no longer see them. On the other +hand, as the tide was still falling, he could easily make out the +impression made by the junk’s bow, and could have likewise made out the +impression of any other boat if it had landed at that particular spot. +But there was no such mark; and I knew that he was absolutely convinced +that I was hiding somewhere in the mud. + +But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like +hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt it. Instead +he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time. I was hoping +he would give me up and go, for by this time I was suffering severely +from the cold. At last he waded out to his skiff and rowed away. What +if this departure of Yellow Handkerchief’s were a sham? What if he had +done it merely to entice me ashore? + +The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had made a +little too much noise with his oars as he rowed away. So I remained, +lying in the mud and shivering. I shivered till the muscles of the small +of my back ached and pained me as badly as the cold, and I had need of +all my self-control to force myself to remain in my miserable situation. + +It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, I thought I +could make out something moving on the beach. I watched intently, but my +ears were rewarded first, by a raspy cough I knew only too well. Yellow +Handkerchief had sneaked back, landed on the other side of the island, +and crept around to surprise me if I had returned. + +After that, though hours passed without sign of him, I was afraid to +return to the island at all. On the other hand, I was almost equally +afraid that I should die of the exposure I was undergoing. I had never +dreamed one could suffer so. I grew so cold and numb, finally, that I +ceased to shiver. But my muscles and bones began to ache in a way that +was agony. The tide had long since begun to rise, and, foot by foot, it +drove me in toward the beach. High water came at three o’clock, and at +three o’clock I drew myself up on the beach, more dead than alive, and +too helpless to have offered any resistance had Yellow Handkerchief +swooped down upon me. + +But no Yellow Handkerchief appeared. He had given me up and gone back to +Point Pedro. Nevertheless, I was in a deplorable, not to say dangerous, +condition. I could not stand upon my feet, much less walk. My clammy, +muddy garments clung to me like sheets of ice. I thought I should never +get them off. So numb and lifeless were my fingers, and so weak was I, +that it seemed to take an hour to get off my shoes. I had not the +strength to break the porpoise-hide laces, and the knots defied me. I +repeatedly beat my hands upon the rocks to get some sort of life into +them. Sometimes I felt sure I was going to die. + +But in the end,—after several centuries, it seemed to me,—I got off the +last of my clothes. The water was now close at hand, and I crawled +painfully into it and washed the mud from my naked body. Still, I could +not get on my feet and walk and I was afraid to lie still. Nothing +remained but to crawl weakly, like a snail, and at the cost of constant +pain, up and down the sand. I kept this up as long as possible, but as +the east paled with the coming of dawn I began to succumb. The sky grew +rosy-red, and the golden rim of the sun, showing above the horizon, found +me lying helpless and motionless among the clam-shells. + +As in a dream, I saw the familiar mainsail of the _Reindeer_ as she +slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light puff of morning air. This +dream was very much broken. There are intervals I can never recollect on +looking back over it. Three things, however, I distinctly remember: the +first sight of the _Reindeer’s_ mainsail; her lying at anchor a few +hundred feet away and a small boat leaving her side; and the cabin stove +roaring red-hot, myself swathed all over with blankets, except on the +chest and shoulders, which Charley was pounding and mauling unmercifully, +and my mouth and throat burning with the coffee which Neil Partington was +pouring down a trifle too hot. + +But burn or no burn, I tell you it felt good. By the time we arrived in +Oakland I was as limber and strong as ever,—though Charlie and Neil +Partington were afraid I was going to have pneumonia, and Mrs. +Partington, for my first six months of school, kept an anxious eye upon +me to discover the first symptoms of consumption. + +Time flies. It seems but yesterday that I was a lad of sixteen on the +fish patrol. Yet I know that I arrived this very morning from China, +with a quick passage to my credit, and master of the barkentine +_Harvester_. And I know that to-morrow morning I shall run over to +Oakland to see Neil Partington and his wife and family, and later on up +to Benicia to see Charley Le Grant and talk over old times. No; I shall +not go to Benicia, now that I think about it. I expect to be a highly +interested party to a wedding, shortly to take place. Her name is Alice +Partington, and, since Charley has promised to be best man, he will have +to come down to Oakland instead. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE FISH PATROL*** + + +******* This file should be named 911-0.txt or 911-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/9/1/911 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/911-0.zip b/911-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f98440d --- /dev/null +++ b/911-0.zip diff --git a/911-h.zip b/911-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac62c2d --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h.zip diff --git a/911-h/911-h.htm b/911-h/911-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..284a8b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/911-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3791 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Tales of the Fish Patrol + + +Author: Jack London + + + +Release Date: March 25, 2015 [eBook #911] +[This file was first posted on March 22, 1997] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE FISH PATROL*** +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS ANOTHER EDITION OF THIS TITLE WITH ADDITIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28693"> +[# 28693 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Transcribed from the 1914 William Heinemann edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Book cover" +title= +"Book cover" + src="images/covers.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/fpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"“Now will you keep off?” he demanded" +title= +"“Now will you keep off?” he demanded" + src="images/fps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1>Tales of the<br /> +Fish Patrol</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">By</span><br +/> +<b>Jack London</b><br /> +Author of “Burning Daylight,” etc.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" + src="images/tps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">London<br /> +William Heinemann<br /> +1914</p> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>WHITE +AND YELLOW</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">San Francisco Bay</span> is so large that +often its storms are more disastrous to ocean-going craft than is +the ocean itself in its violent moments. The waters of the +bay contain all manner of fish, wherefore its surface is ploughed +by the keels of all manner of fishing boats manned by all manner +of fishermen. To protect the fish from this motley floating +population many wise laws have been passed, and there is a fish +patrol to see that these laws are enforced. Exciting times +are the lot of the fish patrol: in its history more than one dead +patrolman has marked defeat, and more often dead fishermen across +their illegal nets have marked success.</p> +<p>Wildest among the fisher-folk may be accounted the Chinese +shrimp-catchers. It is the habit of the shrimp to crawl +along the bottom in vast armies till it reaches fresh water, when +it turns about and crawls back again to the salt. And where +the tide ebbs and flows, the Chinese sink great bag-nets to the +bottom, with gaping mouths, into which the shrimp crawls and from +which it is transferred to the boiling-pot. This in itself +would not be bad, were it not for the small mesh of the nets, so +small that the tiniest fishes, little new-hatched things not a +quarter of an inch long, cannot pass through. The beautiful +beaches of Points Pedro and Pablo, where are the +shrimp-catchers’ villages, are made fearful by the stench +from myriads of decaying fish, and against this wasteful +destruction it has ever been the duty of the fish patrol to +act.</p> +<p>When I was a youngster of sixteen, a good sloop-sailor and +all-round bay-waterman, my sloop, the <i>Reindeer</i>, was +chartered by the Fish Commission, and I became for the time being +a deputy patrolman. After a deal of work among the Greek +fishermen of the Upper Bay and rivers, where knives flashed at +the beginning of trouble and men permitted themselves to be made +prisoners only after a revolver was thrust in their faces, we +hailed with delight an expedition to the Lower Bay against the +Chinese shrimp-catchers.</p> +<p>There were six of us, in two boats, and to avoid suspicion we +ran down after dark and dropped anchor under a projecting bluff +of land known as Point Pinole. As the east paled with the +first light of dawn we got under way again, and hauled close on +the land breeze as we slanted across the bay toward Point +Pedro. The morning mists curled and clung to the water so +that we could see nothing, but we busied ourselves driving the +chill from our bodies with hot coffee. Also we had to +devote ourselves to the miserable task of bailing, for in some +incomprehensible way the <i>Reindeer</i> had sprung a generous +leak. Half the night had been spent in overhauling the +ballast and exploring the seams, but the labor had been without +avail. The water still poured in, and perforce we doubled +up in the cockpit and tossed it out again.</p> +<p>After coffee, three of the men withdrew to the other boat, a +Columbia River salmon boat, leaving three of us in the +<i>Reindeer</i>. Then the two craft proceeded in company +till the sun showed over the eastern sky-line. Its fiery +rays dispelled the clinging vapors, and there, before our eyes, +like a picture, lay the shrimp fleet, spread out in a great +half-moon, the tips of the crescent fully three miles apart, and +each junk moored fast to the buoy of a shrimp-net. But +there was no stir, no sign of life.</p> +<p>The situation dawned upon us. While waiting for slack +water, in which to lift their heavy nets from the bed of the bay, +the Chinese had all gone to sleep below. We were elated, +and our plan of battle was swiftly formed.</p> +<p>“Throw each of your two men on to a junk,” +whispered Le Grant to me from the salmon boat. “And +you make fast to a third yourself. We’ll do the same, +and there’s no reason in the world why we shouldn’t +capture six junks at the least.”</p> +<p>Then we separated. I put the <i>Reindeer</i> about on +the other tack, ran up under the lee of a junk, shivered the +mainsail into the wind and lost headway, and forged past the +stern of the junk so slowly and so near that one of the patrolmen +stepped lightly aboard. Then I kept off, filled the +mainsail, and bore away for a second junk.</p> +<p>Up to this time there had been no noise, but from the first +junk captured by the salmon boat an uproar now broke forth. +There was shrill Oriental yelling, a pistol shot, and more +yelling.</p> +<p>“It’s all up. They’re warning the +others,” said George, the remaining patrolman, as he stood +beside me in the cockpit.</p> +<p>By this time we were in the thick of the fleet, and the alarm +was spreading with incredible swiftness. The decks were +beginning to swarm with half-awakened and half-naked +Chinese. Cries and yells of warning and anger were flying +over the quiet water, and somewhere a conch shell was being blown +with great success. To the right of us I saw the captain of +a junk chop away his mooring line with an axe and spring to help +his crew at the hoisting of the huge, outlandish lug-sail. +But to the left the first heads were popping up from below on +another junk, and I rounded up the <i>Reindeer</i> alongside long +enough for George to spring aboard.</p> +<p>The whole fleet was now under way. In addition to the +sails they had gotten out long sweeps, and the bay was being +ploughed in every direction by the fleeing junks. I was now +alone in the <i>Reindeer</i>, seeking feverishly to capture a +third prize. The first junk I took after was a clean miss, +for it trimmed its sheets and shot away surprisingly into the +wind. By fully half a point it outpointed the +<i>Reindeer</i>, and I began to feel respect for the clumsy +craft. Realizing the hopelessness of the pursuit, I filled +away, threw out the main-sheet, and drove down before the wind +upon the junks to leeward, where I had them at a +disadvantage.</p> +<p>The one I had selected wavered indecisively before me, and, as +I swung wide to make the boarding gentle, filled suddenly and +darted away, the smart Mongols shouting a wild rhythm as they +bent to the sweeps. But I had been ready for this. I +luffed suddenly. Putting the tiller hard down, and holding +it down with my body, I brought the main-sheet in, hand over +hand, on the run, so as to retain all possible striking +force. The two starboard sweeps of the junk were crumpled +up, and then the two boats came together with a crash. The +<i>Reindeer’s</i> bowsprit, like a monstrous hand, reached +over and ripped out the junk’s chunky mast and towering +sail.</p> +<p>This was met by a curdling yell of rage. A big Chinaman, +remarkably evil-looking, with his head swathed in a yellow silk +handkerchief and face badly pock-marked, planted a pike-pole on +the <i>Reindeer’s</i> bow and began to shove the entangled +boats apart. Pausing long enough to let go the jib +halyards, and just as the <i>Reindeer</i> cleared and began to +drift astern, I leaped aboard the junk with a line and made +fast. He of the yellow handkerchief and pock-marked face +came toward me threateningly, but I put my hand into my hip +pocket, and he hesitated. I was unarmed, but the Chinese +have learned to be fastidiously careful of American hip pockets, +and it was upon this that I depended to keep him and his savage +crew at a distance.</p> +<p>I ordered him to drop the anchor at the junk’s bow, to +which he replied, “No sabbe.” The crew +responded in like fashion, and though I made my meaning plain by +signs, they refused to understand. Realizing the +inexpediency of discussing the matter, I went forward myself, +overran the line, and let the anchor go.</p> +<p>“Now get aboard, four of you,” I said in a loud +voice, indicating with my fingers that four of them were to go +with me and the fifth was to remain by the junk. The Yellow +Handkerchief hesitated; but I repeated the order fiercely (much +more fiercely than I felt), at the same time sending my hand to +my hip. Again the Yellow Handkerchief was overawed, and +with surly looks he led three of his men aboard the +<i>Reindeer</i>. I cast off at once, and, leaving the jib +down, steered a course for George’s junk. Here it was +easier, for there were two of us, and George had a pistol to fall +back on if it came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, +four Chinese were transferred to the sloop and one left behind to +take care of things.</p> +<p>Four more were added to our passenger list from the third +junk. By this time the salmon boat had collected its twelve +prisoners and came alongside, badly overloaded. To make +matters worse, as it was a small boat, the patrolmen were so +jammed in with their prisoners that they would have little chance +in case of trouble.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to help us out,” said Le +Grant.</p> +<p>I looked over my prisoners, who had crowded into the cabin and +on top of it. “I can take three,” I +answered.</p> +<p>“Make it four,” he suggested, “and +I’ll take Bill with me.” (Bill was the third +patrolman.) “We haven’t elbow room here, and in +case of a scuffle one white to every two of them will be just +about the right proportion.”</p> +<p>The exchange was made, and the salmon boat got up its +spritsail and headed down the bay toward the marshes off San +Rafael. I ran up the jib and followed with the +<i>Reindeer</i>. San Rafael, where we were to turn our +catch over to the authorities, communicated with the bay by way +of a long and tortuous slough, or marshland creek, which could be +navigated only when the tide was in. Slack water had come, +and, as the ebb was commencing, there was need for hurry if we +cared to escape waiting half a day for the next tide.</p> +<p>But the land breeze had begun to die away with the rising sun, +and now came only in failing puffs. The salmon boat got out +its oars and soon left us far astern. Some of the Chinese +stood in the forward part of the cockpit, near the cabin doors, +and once, as I leaned over the cockpit rail to flatten down the +jib-sheet a bit, I felt some one brush against my hip +pocket. I made no sign, but out of the corner of my eye I +saw that the Yellow Handkerchief had discovered the emptiness of +the pocket which had hitherto overawed him.</p> +<p>To make matters serious, during all the excitement of boarding +the junks the <i>Reindeer</i> had not been bailed, and the water +was beginning to slush over the cockpit floor. The +shrimp-catchers pointed at it and looked to me questioningly.</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said. “Bime by, allee same +dlown, velly quick, you no bail now. Sabbe?”</p> +<p>No, they did not “sabbe,” or at least they shook +their heads to that effect, though they chattered most +comprehendingly to one another in their own lingo. I pulled +up three or four of the bottom boards, got a couple of buckets +from a locker, and by unmistakable sign-language invited them to +fall to. But they laughed, and some crowded into the cabin +and some climbed up on top.</p> +<p>Their laughter was not good laughter. There was a hint +of menace in it, a maliciousness which their black looks +verified. The Yellow Handkerchief, since his discovery of +my empty pocket, had become most insolent in his bearing, and he +wormed about among the other prisoners, talking to them with +great earnestness.</p> +<p>Swallowing my chagrin, I stepped down into the cockpit and +began throwing out the water. But hardly had I begun, when +the boom swung overhead, the mainsail filled with a jerk, and the +<i>Reindeer</i> heeled over. The day wind was springing +up. George was the veriest of landlubbers, so I was forced +to give over bailing and take the tiller. The wind was +blowing directly off Point Pedro and the high mountains behind, +and because of this was squally and uncertain, half the time +bellying the canvas out and the other half flapping it idly.</p> +<p>George was about the most all-round helpless man I had ever +met. Among his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, +and I knew that if he attempted to bail, it might bring on a +hemorrhage. Yet the rising water warned me that something +must be done. Again I ordered the shrimp-catchers to lend a +hand with the buckets. They laughed defiantly, and those +inside the cabin, the water up to their ankles, shouted back and +forth with those on top.</p> +<p>“You’d better get out your gun and make them +bail,” I said to George.</p> +<p>But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was +afraid. The Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as +I could, and their insolence became insufferable. Those in +the cabin broke into the food lockers, and those above scrambled +down and joined them in a feast on our crackers and canned +goods.</p> +<p>“What do we care?” George said weakly.</p> +<p>I was fuming with helpless anger. “If they get out +of hand, it will be too late to care. The best thing you +can do is to get them in check right now.”</p> +<p>The water was rising higher and higher, and the gusts, +forerunners of a steady breeze, were growing stiffer and +stiffer. And between the gusts, the prisoners, having +gotten away with a week’s grub, took to crowding first to +one side and then to the other till the <i>Reindeer</i> rocked +like a cockle-shell. Yellow Handkerchief approached me, +and, pointing out his village on the Point Pedro beach, gave me +to understand that if I turned the <i>Reindeer</i> in that +direction and put them ashore, they, in turn, would go to +bailing. By now the water in the cabin was up to the bunks, +and the bed-clothes were sopping. It was a foot deep on the +cockpit floor. Nevertheless I refused, and I could see by +George’s face that he was disappointed.</p> +<p>“If you don’t show some nerve, they’ll rush +us and throw us overboard,” I said to him. +“Better give me your revolver, if you want to be +safe.”</p> +<p>“The safest thing to do,” he chattered cravenly, +“is to put them ashore. I, for one, don’t want +to be drowned for the sake of a handful of dirty +Chinamen.”</p> +<p>“And I, for another, don’t care to give in to a +handful of dirty Chinamen to escape drowning,” I answered +hotly.</p> +<p>“You’ll sink the <i>Reindeer</i> under us all at +this rate,” he whined. “And what good +that’ll do I can’t see.”</p> +<p>“Every man to his taste,” I retorted.</p> +<p>He made no reply, but I could see he was trembling +pitifully. Between the threatening Chinese and the rising +water he was beside himself with fright; and, more than the +Chinese and the water, I feared him and what his fright might +impel him to do. I could see him casting longing glances at +the small skiff towing astern, so in the next calm I hauled the +skiff alongside. As I did so his eyes brightened with hope; +but before he could guess my intention, I stove the frail bottom +through with a hand-axe, and the skiff filled to its +gunwales.</p> +<p>“It’s sink or float together,” I said. +“And if you’ll give me your revolver, I’ll have +the <i>Reindeer</i> bailed out in a jiffy.”</p> +<p>“They’re too many for us,” he +whimpered. “We can’t fight them all.”</p> +<p>I turned my back on him in disgust. The salmon boat had +long since passed from sight behind a little archipelago known as +the Marin Islands, so no help could be looked for from that +quarter. Yellow Handkerchief came up to me in a familiar +manner, the water in the cockpit slushing against his legs. +I did not like his looks. I felt that beneath the pleasant +smile he was trying to put on his face there was an ill +purpose. I ordered him back, and so sharply that he +obeyed.</p> +<p>“Now keep your distance,” I commanded, “and +don’t you come closer!”</p> +<p>“Wha’ fo’?” he demanded +indignantly. “I t’ink-um talkee talkee heap +good.”</p> +<p>“Talkee talkee,” I answered bitterly, for I knew +now that he had understood all that passed between George and +me. “What for talkee talkee? You no sabbe +talkee talkee.”</p> +<p>He grinned in a sickly fashion. “Yep, I sabbe +velly much. I honest Chinaman.”</p> +<p>“All right,” I answered. “You sabbe +talkee talkee, then you bail water plenty plenty. After +that we talkee talkee.”</p> +<p>He shook his head, at the same time pointing over his shoulder +to his comrades. “No can do. Velly bad +Chinamen, heap velly bad. I +t’ink-um—”</p> +<p>“Stand back!” I shouted, for I had noticed his +hand disappear beneath his blouse and his body prepare for a +spring.</p> +<p>Disconcerted, he went back into the cabin, to hold a council, +apparently, from the way the jabbering broke forth. The +<i>Reindeer</i> was very deep in the water, and her movements had +grown quite loggy. In a rough sea she would have inevitably +swamped; but the wind, when it did blow, was off the land, and +scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface of the bay.</p> +<p>“I think you’d better head for the beach,” +George said abruptly, in a manner that told me his fear had +forced him to make up his mind to some course of action.</p> +<p>“I think not,” I answered shortly.</p> +<p>“I command you,” he said in a bullying tone.</p> +<p>“I was commanded to bring these prisoners into San +Rafael,” was my reply.</p> +<p>Our voices were raised, and the sound of the altercation +brought the Chinese out of the cabin.</p> +<p>“Now will you head for the beach?”</p> +<p>This from George, and I found myself looking into the muzzle +of his revolver—of the revolver he dared to use on me, but +was too cowardly to use on the prisoners.</p> +<p>My brain seemed smitten with a dazzling brightness. The +whole situation, in all its bearings, was focussed sharply before +me—the shame of losing the prisoners, the worthlessness and +cowardice of George, the meeting with Le Grant and the other +patrol men and the lame explanation; and then there was the fight +I had fought so hard, victory wrenched from me just as I thought +I had it within my grasp. And out of the tail of my eye I +could see the Chinese crowding together by the cabin doors and +leering triumphantly. It would never do.</p> +<p>I threw my hand up and my head down. The first act +elevated the muzzle, and the second removed my head from the path +of the bullet which went whistling past. One hand closed on +George’s wrist, the other on the revolver. Yellow +Handkerchief and his gang sprang toward me. It was now or +never. Putting all my strength into a sudden effort, I +swung George’s body forward to meet them. Then I +pulled back with equal suddenness, ripping the revolver out of +his fingers and jerking him off his feet. He fell against +Yellow Handkerchief’s knees, who stumbled over him, and the +pair wallowed in the bailing hole where the cockpit floor was +torn open. The next instant I was covering them with my +revolver, and the wild shrimp-catchers were cowering and cringing +away.</p> +<p>But I swiftly discovered that there was all the difference in +the world between shooting men who are attacking and men who are +doing nothing more than simply refusing to obey. For obey +they would not when I ordered them into the bailing hole. I +threatened them with the revolver, but they sat stolidly in the +flooded cabin and on the roof and would not move.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes passed, the <i>Reindeer</i> sinking deeper and +deeper, her mainsail flapping in the calm. But from off the +Point Pedro shore I saw a dark line form on the water and travel +toward us. It was the steady breeze I had been expecting so +long. I called to the Chinese and pointed it out. +They hailed it with exclamations. Then I pointed to the +sail and to the water in the <i>Reindeer</i>, and indicated by +signs that when the wind reached the sail, what of the water +aboard we would capsize. But they jeered defiantly, for +they knew it was in my power to luff the helm and let go the +main-sheet, so as to spill the wind and escape damage.</p> +<p>But my mind was made up. I hauled in the main-sheet a +foot or two, took a turn with it, and bracing my feet, put my +back against the tiller. This left me one hand for the +sheet and one for the revolver. The dark line drew nearer, +and I could see them looking from me to it and back again with an +apprehension they could not successfully conceal. My brain +and will and endurance were pitted against theirs, and the +problem was which could stand the strain of imminent death the +longer and not give in.</p> +<p>Then the wind struck us. The main-sheet tautened with a +brisk rattling of the blocks, the boom uplifted, the sail bellied +out, and the <i>Reindeer</i> heeled over—over, and over, +till the lee-rail went under, the cabin windows went under, and +the bay began to pour in over the cockpit rail. So +violently had she heeled over, that the men in the cabin had been +thrown on top of one another into the lee bunk, where they +squirmed and twisted and were washed about, those underneath +being perilously near to drowning.</p> +<p>The wind freshened a bit, and the <i>Reindeer</i> went over +farther than ever. For the moment I thought she was gone, +and I knew that another puff like that and she surely would +go. While I pressed her under and debated whether I should +give up or not, the Chinese cried for mercy. I think it was +the sweetest sound I have ever heard. And then, and not +until then, did I luff up and ease out the main-sheet. The +<i>Reindeer</i> righted very slowly, and when she was on an even +keel was so much awash that I doubted if she could be saved.</p> +<p>But the Chinese scrambled madly into the cockpit and fell to +bailing with buckets, pots, pans, and everything they could lay +hands on. It was a beautiful sight to see that water flying +over the side! And when the <i>Reindeer</i> was high and +proud on the water once more, we dashed away with the breeze on +our quarter, and at the last possible moment crossed the mud +flats and entered the slough.</p> +<p>The spirit of the Chinese was broken, and so docile did they +become that ere we made San Rafael they were out with the +tow-rope, Yellow Handkerchief at the head of the line. As +for George, it was his last trip with the fish patrol. He +did not care for that sort of thing, he explained, and he thought +a clerkship ashore was good enough for him. And we thought +so too.</p> +<h2><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>THE +KING OF THE GREEKS</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Big Alec</span> had never been captured by +the fish patrol. It was his boast that no man could take +him alive, and it was his history that of the many men who had +tried to take him dead none had succeeded. It was also +history that at least two patrolmen who had tried to take him +dead had died themselves. Further, no man violated the fish +laws more systematically and deliberately than Big Alec.</p> +<p>He was called “Big Alec” because of his gigantic +stature. His height was six feet three inches, and he was +correspondingly broad-shouldered and deep-chested. He was +splendidly muscled and hard as steel, and there were innumerable +stories in circulation among the fisher-folk concerning his +prodigious strength. He was as bold and dominant of spirit +as he was strong of body, and because of this he was widely known +by another name, that of “The King of the +Greeks.” The fishing population was largely composed +of Greeks, and they looked up to him and obeyed him as their +chief. And as their chief, he fought their fights for them, +saw that they were protected, saved them from the law when they +fell into its clutches, and made them stand by one another and +himself in time of trouble.</p> +<p>In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture +many disastrous times and had finally given it over, so that when +the word was out that he was coming to Benicia, I was most +anxious to see him. But I did not have to hunt him +up. In his usual bold way, the first thing he did on +arriving was to hunt us up. Charley Le Grant and I at the +time were under a patrolman named Carmintel, and the three of us +were on the <i>Reindeer</i>, preparing for a trip, when Big Alec +stepped aboard. Carmintel evidently knew him, for they +shook hands in recognition. Big Alec took no notice of +Charley or me.</p> +<p>“I’ve come down to fish sturgeon a couple of +months,” he said to Carmintel.</p> +<p>His eyes flashed with challenge as he spoke, and we noticed +the patrolman’s eyes drop before him.</p> +<p>“That’s all right, Alec,” Carmintel said in +a low voice. “I’ll not bother you. Come +on into the cabin, and we’ll talk things over,” he +added.</p> +<p>When they had gone inside and shut the doors after them, +Charley winked with slow deliberation at me. But I was only +a youngster, and new to men and the ways of some men, so I did +not understand. Nor did Charley explain, though I felt +there was something wrong about the business.</p> +<p>Leaving them to their conference, at Charley’s +suggestion we boarded our skiff and pulled over to the Old +Steamboat Wharf, where Big Alec’s ark was lying. An +ark is a house-boat of small though comfortable dimensions, and +is as necessary to the Upper Bay fisherman as are nets and +boats. We were both curious to see Big Alec’s ark, +for history said that it had been the scene of more than one +pitched battle, and that it was riddled with bullet-holes.</p> +<p>We found the holes (stopped with wooden plugs and painted +over), but there were not so many as I had expected. +Charley noted my look of disappointment, and laughed; and then to +comfort me he gave an authentic account of one expedition which +had descended upon Big Alec’s floating home to capture him, +alive preferably, dead if necessary. At the end of half a +day’s fighting, the patrolmen had drawn off in wrecked +boats, with one of their number killed and three wounded. +And when they returned next morning with reinforcements they +found only the mooring-stakes of Big Alec’s ark; the ark +itself remained hidden for months in the fastnesses of the Suisun +tules.</p> +<p>“But why was he not hanged for murder?” I +demanded. “Surely the United States is powerful +enough to bring such a man to justice.”</p> +<p>“He gave himself up and stood trial,” Charley +answered. “It cost him fifty thousand dollars to win +the case, which he did on technicalities and with the aid of the +best lawyers in the state. Every Greek fisherman on the +river contributed to the sum. Big Alec levied and collected +the tax, for all the world like a king. The United States +may be all-powerful, my lad, but the fact remains that Big Alec +is a king inside the United States, with a country and subjects +all his own.”</p> +<p>“But what are you going to do about his fishing for +sturgeon? He’s bound to fish with a ‘Chinese +line.’”</p> +<p>Charley shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see +what we will see,” he said enigmatically.</p> +<p>Now a “Chinese line” is a cunning device invented +by the people whose name it bears. By a simple system of +floats, weights, and anchors, thousands of hooks, each on a +separate leader, are suspended at a distance of from six inches +to a foot above the bottom. The remarkable thing about such +a line is the hook. It is barbless, and in place of the +barb, the hook is filed long and tapering to a point as sharp as +that of a needle. These hoods are only a few inches apart, +and when several thousand of them are suspended just above the +bottom, like a fringe, for a couple of hundred fathoms, they +present a formidable obstacle to the fish that travel along the +bottom.</p> +<p>Such a fish is the sturgeon, which goes rooting along like a +pig, and indeed is often called “pig-fish.” +Pricked by the first hook it touches, the sturgeon gives a +startled leap and comes into contact with half a dozen more +hooks. Then it threshes about wildly, until it receives +hook after hook in its soft flesh; and the hooks, straining from +many different angles, hold the luckless fish fast until it is +drowned. Because no sturgeon can pass through a Chinese +line, the device is called a trap in the fish laws; and because +it bids fair to exterminate the sturgeon, it is branded by the +fish laws as illegal. And such a line, we were confident, +Big Alec intended setting, in open and flagrant violation of the +law.</p> +<p>Several days passed after the visit of Big Alec, during which +Charley and I kept a sharp watch on him. He towed his ark +around the Solano Wharf and into the big bight at Turner’s +Shipyard. The bight we knew to be good ground for sturgeon, +and there we felt sure the King of the Greeks intended to begin +operations. The tide circled like a mill-race in and out of +this bight, and made it possible to raise, lower, or set a +Chinese line only at slack water. So between the tides +Charley and I made it a point for one or the other of us to keep +a lookout from the Solano Wharf.</p> +<p>On the fourth day I was lying in the sun behind the +stringer-piece of the wharf, when I saw a skiff leave the distant +shore and pull out into the bight. In an instant the +glasses were at my eyes and I was following every movement of the +skiff. There were two men in it, and though it was a good +mile away, I made out one of them to be Big Alec; and ere the +skiff returned to shore I made out enough more to know that the +Greek had set his line.</p> +<p>“Big Alec has a Chinese line out in the bight off +Turner’s Shipyard,” Charley Le Grant said that +afternoon to Carmintel.</p> +<p>A fleeting expression of annoyance passed over the +patrolman’s face, and then he said, “Yes?” in +an absent way, and that was all.</p> +<p>Charley bit his lip with suppressed anger and turned on his +heel.</p> +<p>“Are you game, my lad?” he said to me later on in +the evening, just as we finished washing down the +<i>Reindeer’s</i> decks and were preparing to turn in.</p> +<p>A lump came up in my throat, and I could only nod my head.</p> +<p>“Well, then,” and Charley’s eyes glittered +in a determined way, “we’ve got to capture Big Alec +between us, you and I, and we’ve got to do it in spite of +Carmintel. Will you lend a hand?”</p> +<p>“It’s a hard proposition, but we can do it,” +he added after a pause.</p> +<p>“Of course we can,” I supplemented +enthusiastically.</p> +<p>And then he said, “Of course we can,” and we shook +hands on it and went to bed.</p> +<p>But it was no easy task we had set ourselves. In order +to convict a man of illegal fishing, it was necessary to catch +him in the act with all the evidence of the crime about +him—the hooks, the lines, the fish, and the man +himself. This meant that we must take Big Alec on the open +water, where he could see us coming and prepare for us one of the +warm receptions for which he was noted.</p> +<p>“There’s no getting around it,” Charley said +one morning. “If we can only get alongside it’s +an even toss, and there’s nothing left for us but to try +and get alongside. Come on, lad.”</p> +<p>We were in the Columbia River salmon boat, the one we had used +against the Chinese shrimp-catchers. Slack water had come, +and as we dropped around the end of the Solano Wharf we saw Big +Alec at work, running his line and removing the fish.</p> +<p>“Change places,” Charley commanded, “and +steer just astern of him as though you’re going into the +shipyard.”</p> +<p>I took the tiller, and Charley sat down on a thwart amidships, +placing his revolver handily beside him.</p> +<p>“If he begins to shoot,” he cautioned, “get +down in the bottom and steer from there, so that nothing more +than your hand will be exposed.”</p> +<p>I nodded, and we kept silent after that, the boat slipping +gently through the water and Big Alec growing nearer and +nearer. We could see him quite plainly, gaffing the +sturgeon and throwing them into the boat while his companion ran +the line and cleared the hooks as he dropped them back into the +water. Nevertheless, we were five hundred yards away when +the big fisherman hailed us.</p> +<p>“Here! You! What do you want?” he +shouted.</p> +<p>“Keep going,” Charley whispered, “just as +though you didn’t hear him.”</p> +<p>The next few moments were very anxious ones. The +fisherman was studying us sharply, while we were gliding up on +him every second.</p> +<p>“You keep off if you know what’s good for +you!” he called out suddenly, as though he had made up his +mind as to who and what we were. “If you don’t, +I’ll fix you!”</p> +<p>He brought a rifle to his shoulder and trained it on me.</p> +<p>“Now will you keep off?” he demanded.</p> +<p>I could hear Charley groan with disappointment. +“Keep off,” he whispered; “it’s all up +for this time.”</p> +<p>I put up the tiller and eased the sheet, and the salmon boat +ran off five or six points. Big Alec watched us till we +were out of range, when he returned to his work.</p> +<p>“You’d better leave Big Alec alone,” +Carmintel said, rather sourly, to Charley that night.</p> +<p>“So he’s been complaining to you, has +he?” Charley said significantly.</p> +<p>Carmintel flushed painfully. “You’d better +leave him alone, I tell you,” he repeated. +“He’s a dangerous man, and it won’t pay to fool +with him.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Charley answered softly; “I’ve +heard that it pays better to leave him alone.”</p> +<p>This was a direct thrust at Carmintel, and we could see by the +expression of his face that it sank home. For it was common +knowledge that Big Alec was as willing to bribe as to fight, and +that of late years more than one patrolman had handled the +fisherman’s money.</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say—” Carmintel began, in a +bullying tone.</p> +<p>But Charley cut him off shortly. “I mean to say +nothing,” he said. “You heard what I said, and +if the cap fits, why—”</p> +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and Carmintel glowered at him, +speechless.</p> +<p>“What we want is imagination,” Charley said to me +one day, when we had attempted to creep upon Big Alec in the gray +of dawn and had been shot at for our trouble.</p> +<p>And thereafter, and for many days, I cudgelled my brains +trying to imagine some possible way by which two men, on an open +stretch of water, could capture another who knew how to use a +rifle and was never to be found without one. Regularly, +every slack water, without slyness, boldly and openly in the +broad day, Big Alec was to be seen running his line. And +what made it particularly exasperating was the fact that every +fisherman, from Benicia to Vallejo knew that he was successfully +defying us. Carmintel also bothered us, for he kept us busy +among the shad-fishers of San Pablo, so that we had little time +to spare on the King of the Greeks. But Charley’s +wife and children lived at Benicia, and we had made the place our +headquarters, so that we always returned to it.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you what we can do,” I said, +after several fruitless weeks had passed; “we can wait some +slack water till Big Alec has run his line and gone ashore with +the fish, and then we can go out and capture the line. It +will put him to time and expense to make another, and then +we’ll figure to capture that too. If we can’t +capture him, we can discourage him, you see.”</p> +<p>Charley saw, and said it wasn’t a bad idea. We +watched our chance, and the next low-water slack, after Big Alec +had removed the fish from the line and returned ashore, we went +out in the salmon boat. We had the bearings of the line +from shore marks, and we knew we would have no difficulty in +locating it. The first of the flood tide was setting in, +when we ran below where we thought the line was stretched and +dropped over a fishing-boat anchor. Keeping a short rope to +the anchor, so that it barely touched the bottom, we dragged it +slowly along until it stuck and the boat fetched up hard and +fast.</p> +<p>“We’ve got it,” Charley cried. +“Come on and lend a hand to get it in.”</p> +<p>Together we hove up the rope till the anchor I came in sight +with the sturgeon line caught across one of the flukes. +Scores of the murderous-looking hooks flashed into sight as we +cleared the anchor, and we had just started to run along the line +to the end where we could begin to lift it, when a sharp thud in +the boat startled us. We looked about, but saw nothing and +returned to our work. An instant later there was a similar +sharp thud and the gunwale splintered between Charley’s +body and mine.</p> +<p>“That’s remarkably like a bullet, lad,” he +said reflectively. “And it’s a long shot Big +Alec’s making.”</p> +<p>“And he’s using smokeless powder,” he +concluded, after an examination of the mile-distant shore. +“That’s why we can’t hear the +report.”</p> +<p>I looked at the shore, but could see no sign of Big Alec, who +was undoubtedly hidden in some rocky nook with us at his +mercy. A third bullet struck the water, glanced, passed +singing over our heads, and struck the water again beyond.</p> +<p>“I guess we’d better get out of this,” +Charley remarked coolly. “What do you think, +lad?”</p> +<p>I thought so, too, and said we didn’t want the line +anyway. Whereupon we cast off and hoisted the +spritsail. The bullets ceased at once, and we sailed away, +unpleasantly confident that Big Alec was laughing at our +discomfiture.</p> +<p>And more than that, the next day on the fishing wharf, where +we were inspecting nets, he saw fit to laugh and sneer at us, and +this before all the fishermen. Charley’s face went +black with anger; but beyond promising Big Alec that in the end +he would surely land him behind the bars, he controlled himself +and said nothing. The King of the Greeks made his boast +that no fish patrol had ever taken him or ever could take him, +and the fishermen cheered him and said it was true. They +grew excited, and it looked like trouble for a while; but Big +Alec asserted his kingship and quelled them.</p> +<p>Carmintel also laughed at Charley, and dropped sarcastic +remarks, and made it hard for him. But Charley refused to +be angered, though he told me in confidence that he intended to +capture Big Alec if it took all the rest of his life to +accomplish it.</p> +<p>“I don’t know how I’ll do it,” he +said, “but do it I will, as sure as I am Charley Le +Grant. The idea will come to me at the right and proper +time, never fear.”</p> +<p>And at the right time it came, and most unexpectedly. +Fully a month had passed, and we were constantly up and down the +river, and down and up the bay, with no spare moments to devote +to the particular fisherman who ran a Chinese line in the bight +of Turner’s Shipyard. We had called in at +Selby’s Smelter one afternoon, while on patrol work, when +all unknown to us our opportunity happened along. It +appeared in the guise of a helpless yacht loaded with seasick +people, so we could hardly be expected to recognize it as the +opportunity. It was a large sloop-yacht, and it was +helpless inasmuch as the trade-wind was blowing half a gale and +there were no capable sailors aboard.</p> +<p>From the wharf at Selby’s we watched with careless +interest the lubberly manœuvre performed of bringing the +yacht to anchor, and the equally lubberly manœuvre of +sending the small boat ashore. A very miserable-looking man +in draggled ducks, after nearly swamping the boat in the heavy +seas, passed us the painter and climbed out. He staggered +about as though the wharf were rolling, and told us his troubles, +which were the troubles of the yacht. The only +rough-weather sailor aboard, the man on whom they all depended, +had been called back to San Francisco by a telegram, and they had +attempted to continue the cruise alone. The high wind and +big seas of San Pablo Bay had been too much for them; all hands +were sick, nobody knew anything or could do anything; and so they +had run in to the smelter either to desert the yacht or to get +somebody to bring it to Benicia. In short, did we know of +any sailors who would bring the yacht into Benicia?</p> +<p>Charley looked at me. The <i>Reindeer</i> was lying in a +snug place. We had nothing on hand in the way of patrol +work till midnight. With the wind then blowing, we could +sail the yacht into Benicia in a couple of hours, have several +more hours ashore, and come back to the smelter on the evening +train.</p> +<p>“All right, captain,” Charley said to the +disconsolate yachtsman, who smiled in sickly fashion at the +title.</p> +<p>“I’m only the owner,” he explained.</p> +<p>We rowed him aboard in much better style than he had come +ashore, and saw for ourselves the helplessness of the +passengers. There were a dozen men and women, and all of +them too sick even to appear grateful at our coming. The +yacht was rolling savagely, broad on, and no sooner had the +owner’s feet touched the deck than he collapsed and joined, +the others. Not one was able to bear a hand, so Charley and +I between us cleared the badly tangled running gear, got up sail, +and hoisted anchor.</p> +<p>It was a rough trip, though a swift one. The Carquinez +Straits were a welter of foam and smother, and we came through +them wildly before the wind, the big mainsail alternately dipping +and flinging its boom skyward as we tore along. But the +people did not mind. They did not mind anything. Two +or three, including the owner, sprawled in the cockpit, +shuddering when the yacht lifted and raced and sank dizzily into +the trough, and between-whiles regarding the shore with yearning +eyes. The rest were huddled on the cabin floor among the +cushions. Now and again some one groaned, but for the most +part they were as limp as so many dead persons.</p> +<p>As the bight at Turner’s Shipyard opened out, Charley +edged into it to get the smoother water. Benicia was in +view, and we were bowling along over comparatively easy water, +when a speck of a boat danced up ahead of us, directly in our +course. It was low-water slack. Charley and I looked +at each other. No word was spoken, but at once the yacht +began a most astonishing performance, veering and yawing as +though the greenest of amateurs was at the wheel. It was a +sight for sailormen to see. To all appearances, a runaway +yacht was careering madly over the bight, and now and again +yielding a little bit to control in a desperate effort to make +Benicia.</p> +<p>The owner forgot his seasickness long enough to look +anxious. The speck of a boat grew larger and larger, till +we could see Big Alec and his partner, with a turn of the +sturgeon line around a cleat, resting from their labor to laugh +at us. Charley pulled his sou’wester over his eyes, +and I followed his example, though I could not guess the idea he +evidently had in mind and intended to carry into execution.</p> +<p>We came foaming down abreast of the skiff, so close that we +could hear above the wind the voices of Big Alec and his mate as +they shouted at us with all the scorn that professional watermen +feel for amateurs, especially when amateurs are making fools of +themselves.</p> +<p>We thundered on past the fishermen, and nothing had +happened. Charley grinned at the disappointment he saw in +my face, and then shouted:</p> +<p>“Stand by the main-sheet to jibe!”</p> +<p>He put the wheel hard over, and the yacht whirled around +obediently. The main-sheet slacked and dipped, then shot +over our heads after the boom and tautened with a crash on the +traveller. The yacht heeled over almost on her beam ends, +and a great wail went up from the seasick passengers as they +swept across the cabin floor in a tangled mass and piled into a +heap in the starboard bunks.</p> +<p>But we had no time for them. The yacht, completing the +manœuvre, headed into the wind with slatting canvas, and +righted to an even keel. We were still plunging ahead, and +directly in our path was the skiff. I saw Big Alec dive +overboard and his mate leap for our bowsprit. Then came the +crash as we struck the boat, and a series of grinding bumps as it +passed under our bottom.</p> +<p>“That fixes his rifle,” I heard Charley mutter, as +he sprang upon the deck to look for Big Alec somewhere +astern.</p> +<p>The wind and sea quickly stopped our forward movement, and we +began to drift backward over the spot where the skiff had +been. Big Alec’s black head and swarthy face popped +up within arm’s reach; and all unsuspecting and very angry +with what he took to be the clumsiness of amateur sailors, he was +hauled aboard. Also he was out of breath, for he had dived +deep and stayed down long to escape our keel.</p> +<p>The next instant, to the perplexity and consternation of the +owner, Charley was on top of Big Alec in the cockpit, and I was +helping bind him with gaskets. The owner was dancing +excitedly about and demanding an explanation, but by that time +Big Alec’s partner had crawled aft from the bowsprit and +was peering apprehensively over the rail into the cockpit. +Charley’s arm shot around his neck and the man landed on +his back beside Big Alec.</p> +<p>“More gaskets!” Charley shouted, and I made haste +to supply them.</p> +<p>The wrecked skiff was rolling sluggishly a short distance to +windward, and I trimmed the sheets while Charley took the wheel +and steered for it.</p> +<p>“These two men are old offenders,” he explained to +the angry owner; “and they are most persistent violators of +the fish and game laws. You have seen them caught in the +act, and you may expect to be subpœnaed as witness for the +state when the trial comes off.”</p> +<p>As he spoke he rounded alongside the skiff. It had been +torn from the line, a section of which was dragging to it. +He hauled in forty or fifty feet with a young sturgeon still fast +in a tangle of barbless hooks, slashed that much of the line free +with his knife, and tossed it into the cockpit beside the +prisoners.</p> +<p>“And there’s the evidence, Exhibit A, for the +people,” Charley continued. “Look it over +carefully so that you may identify it in the court-room with the +time and place of capture.”</p> +<p>And then, in triumph, with no more veering and yawing, we +sailed into Benicia, the King of the Greeks bound hard and fast +in the cockpit, and for the first time in his life a prisoner of +the fish patrol.</p> +<h2><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 42</span>A RAID +ON THE OYSTER PIRATES</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> the fish patrolmen under whom we +served at various times, Charley Le Grant and I were agreed, I +think, that Neil Partington was the best. He was neither +dishonest nor cowardly; and while he demanded strict obedience +when we were under his orders, at the same time our relations +were those of easy comradeship, and he permitted us a freedom to +which we were ordinarily unaccustomed, as the present story will +show.</p> +<p>Neil’s family lived in Oakland, which is on the Lower +Bay, not more than six miles across the water from San +Francisco. One day, while scouting among the Chinese +shrimp-catchers of Point Pedro, he received word that his wife +was very ill; and within the hour the <i>Reindeer</i> was bowling +along for Oakland, with a stiff northwest breeze astern. We +ran up the Oakland Estuary and came to anchor, and in the days +that followed, while Neil was ashore, we tightened up the +<i>Reindeer’s</i> rigging, overhauled the ballast, scraped +down, and put the sloop into thorough shape.</p> +<p>This done, time hung heavy on our hands. Neil’s +wife was dangerously ill, and the outlook was a week’s +lie-over, awaiting the crisis. Charley and I roamed the +docks, wondering what we should do, and so came upon the oyster +fleet lying at the Oakland City Wharf. In the main they +were trim, natty boats, made for speed and bad weather, and we +sat down on the stringer-piece of the dock to study them.</p> +<p>“A good catch, I guess,” Charley said, pointing to +the heaps of oysters, assorted in three sizes, which lay upon +their decks.</p> +<p>Pedlers were backing their wagons to the edge of the wharf, +and from the bargaining and chaffering that went on, I managed to +learn the selling price of the oysters.</p> +<p>“That boat must have at least two hundred dollars’ +worth aboard,” I calculated. “I wonder how long +it took to get the load?”</p> +<p>“Three or four days,” Charley answered. +“Not bad wages for two men—twenty-five dollars a day +apiece.”</p> +<p>The boat we were discussing, the <i>Ghost</i>, lay directly +beneath us. Two men composed its crew. One was a +squat, broad-shouldered fellow with remarkably long and +gorilla-like arms, while the other was tall and well +proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat of straight black +hair. So unusual and striking was this combination of hair +and eyes that Charley and I remained somewhat longer than we +intended.</p> +<p>And it was well that we did. A stout, elderly man, with +the dress and carriage of a successful merchant, came up and +stood beside us, looking down upon the deck of the +<i>Ghost</i>. He appeared angry, and the longer he looked +the angrier he grew.</p> +<p>“Those are my oysters,” he said at last. +“I know they are my oysters. You raided my beds last +night and robbed me of them.”</p> +<p>The tall man and the short man on the <i>Ghost</i> looked +up.</p> +<p>“Hello, Taft,” the short man said, with insolent +familiarity. (Among the bayfarers he had gained the +nickname of “The Centipede” on account of his long +arms.) “Hello, Taft,” he repeated, with the +same touch of insolence. “Wot ’r you growling +about now?”</p> +<p>“Those are my oysters—that’s what I +said. You’ve stolen them from my beds.”</p> +<p>“Yer mighty wise, ain’t ye?” was the +Centipede’s sneering reply. “S’pose you +can tell your oysters wherever you see ’em?”</p> +<p>“Now, in my experience,” broke in the tall man, +“oysters is oysters wherever you find ’em, an’ +they’re pretty much alike all the Bay over, and the world +over, too, for that matter. We’re not wantin’ +to quarrel with you, Mr. Taft, but we jes’ wish you +wouldn’t insinuate that them oysters is yours an’ +that we’re thieves an’ robbers till you can prove the +goods.”</p> +<p>“I know they’re mine; I’d stake my life on +it!” Mr. Taft snorted.</p> +<p>“Prove it,” challenged the tall man, who we +afterward learned was known as “The Porpoise” because +of his wonderful swimming abilities.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Of course he +could not prove the oysters to be his, no matter how certain he +might be.</p> +<p>“I’d give a thousand dollars to have you men +behind the bars!” he cried. “I’ll give +fifty dollars a head for your arrest and conviction, all of +you!”</p> +<p>A roar of laughter went up from the different boats, for the +rest of the pirates had been listening to the discussion.</p> +<p>“There’s more money in oysters,” the +Porpoise remarked dryly.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft turned impatiently on his heel and walked away. +From out of the corner of his eye, Charley noted the way he +went. Several minutes later, when he had disappeared around +a corner, Charley rose lazily to his feet. I followed him, +and we sauntered off in the opposite direction to that taken by +Mr. Taft.</p> +<p>“Come on! Lively!” Charley whispered, when +we passed from the view of the oyster fleet.</p> +<p>Our course was changed at once, and we dodged around corners +and raced up and down side-streets till Mr. Taft’s generous +form loomed up ahead of us.</p> +<p>“I’m going to interview him about that +reward,” Charley explained, as we rapidly overhauled the +oyster-bed owner. “Neil will be delayed here for a +week, and you and I might as well be doing something in the +meantime. What do you say?”</p> +<p>“Of course, of course,” Mr. Taft said, when +Charley had introduced himself and explained his errand. +“Those thieves are robbing me of thousands of dollars every +year, and I shall be glad to break them up at any +price,—yes, sir, at any price. As I said, I’ll +give fifty dollars a head, and call it cheap at that. +They’ve robbed my beds, torn down my signs, terrorized my +watchmen, and last year killed one of them. Couldn’t +prove it. All done in the blackness of night. All I +had was a dead watchman and no evidence. The detectives +could do nothing. Nobody has been able to do anything with +those men. We have never succeeded in arresting one of +them. So I say, Mr.—What did you say your name +was?”</p> +<p>“Le Grant,” Charley answered.</p> +<p>“So I say, Mr. Le Grant, I am deeply obliged to you for +the assistance you offer. And I shall be glad, most glad, +sir, to co-operate with you in every way. My watchmen and +boats are at your disposal. Come and see me at the San +Francisco offices any time, or telephone at my expense. And +don’t be afraid of spending money. I’ll foot +your expenses, whatever they are, so long as they are within +reason. The situation is growing desperate, and something +must be done to determine whether I or that band of ruffians own +those oyster beds.”</p> +<p>“Now we’ll see Neil,” Charley said, when he +had seen Mr. Taft upon his train to San Francisco.</p> +<p>Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to our +adventure, but he proved to be of the greatest assistance. +Charley and I knew nothing of the oyster industry, while his head +was an encyclopædia of facts concerning it. Also, +within an hour or so, he was able to bring to us a Greek boy of +seventeen or eighteen who knew thoroughly well the ins and outs +of oyster piracy.</p> +<p>At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol +were free lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a +patrolman proper, received a regular salary, Charley and I, being +merely deputies, received only what we earned—that is to +say, a certain percentage of the fines imposed on convicted +violators of the fish laws. Also, any rewards that chanced +our way were ours. We offered to share with Partington +whatever we should get from Mr. Taft, but the patrolman would not +hear of it. He was only too happy, he said, to do a good +turn for us, who had done so many for him.</p> +<p>We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following +line of action. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, +but as the <i>Reindeer</i> was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, +the Greek boy, whose name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some +innocent-looking craft down to Asparagus Island and join the +oyster pirates’ fleet. Here, according to +Nicholas’s description of the beds and the manner of +raiding, it was possible for us to catch the pirates in the act +of stealing oysters, and at the same time to get them in our +power. Charley was to be on the shore, with Mr. +Taft’s watchmen and a posse of constables, to help us at +the right time.</p> +<p>“I know just the boat,” Neil said, at the +conclusion of the discussion, “a crazy old sloop +that’s lying over at Tiburon. You and Nicholas can go +over by the ferry, charter it for a song, and sail direct for the +beds.”</p> +<p>“Good luck be with you, boys,” he said at parting, +two days later. “Remember, they are dangerous men, so +be careful.”</p> +<p>Nicholas and I succeeded in chartering the sloop very cheaply; +and between laughs, while getting up sail, we agreed that she was +even crazier and older than she had been described. She was +a big, flat-bottomed, square-sterned craft, sloop-rigged, with a +sprung mast, slack rigging, dilapidated sails, and rotten +running-gear, clumsy to handle and uncertain in bringing about, +and she smelled vilely of coal tar, with which strange stuff she +had been smeared from stem to stern and from cabin-roof to +centreboard. And to cap it all, <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> was +printed in great white letters the whole length of either +side.</p> +<p>It was an uneventful though laughable run from Tiburon to +Asparagus Island, where we arrived in the afternoon of the +following day. The oyster pirates, a fleet of a dozen +sloops, were lying at anchor on what was known as the +“Deserted Beds.” The <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> +came sloshing into their midst with a light breeze astern, and +they crowded on deck to see us. Nicholas and I had caught +the spirit of the crazy craft, and we handled her in most +lubberly fashion.</p> +<p>“Wot is it?” some one called.</p> +<p>“Name it ’n’ ye kin have it!” called +another.</p> +<p>“I swan naow, ef it ain’t the old Ark +itself!” mimicked the Centipede from the deck of the +<i>Ghost</i>.</p> +<p>“Hey! Ahoy there, clipper ship!” another wag +shouted. “Wot’s yer port?”</p> +<p>We took no notice of the joking, but acted, after the manner +of greenhorns, as though the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> required our +undivided attention. I rounded her well to windward of the +<i>Ghost</i>, and Nicholas ran for’ard to drop the +anchor. To all appearances it was a bungle, the way the +chain tangled and kept the anchor from reaching the bottom. +And to all appearances Nicholas and I were terribly excited as we +strove to clear it. At any rate, we quite deceived the +pirates, who took huge delight in our predicament.</p> +<p>But the chain remained tangled, and amid all kinds of mocking +advice we drifted down upon and fouled the <i>Ghost</i>, whose +bowsprit poked square through our mainsail and ripped a hole in +it as big as a barn door. The Centipede and the Porpoise +doubled up on the cabin in paroxysms of laughter, and left us to +get clear as best we could. This, with much unseaman-like +performance, we succeeded in doing, and likewise in clearing the +anchor-chain, of which we let out about three hundred feet. +With only ten feet of water under us, this would permit the +<i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> to swing in a circle six hundred feet in +diameter, in which circle she would be able to foul at least half +the fleet.</p> +<p>The oyster pirates lay snugly together at short hawsers, the +weather being fine, and they protested loudly at our ignorance in +putting out such an unwarranted length of anchor-chain. And +not only did they protest, for they made us heave it in again, +all but thirty feet.</p> +<p>Having sufficiently impressed them with our general +lubberliness, Nicholas and I went below to congratulate ourselves +and to cook supper. Hardly had we finished the meal and +washed the dishes, when a skiff ground against the <i>Coal Tar +Maggie’s</i> side, and heavy feet trampled on deck. +Then the Centipede’s brutal face appeared in the +companionway, and he descended into the cabin, followed by the +Porpoise. Before they could seat themselves on a bunk, +another skiff came alongside, and another, and another, till the +whole fleet was represented by the gathering in the cabin.</p> +<p>“Where’d you swipe the old tub?” asked a +squat and hairy man, with cruel eyes and Mexican features.</p> +<p>“Didn’t swipe it,” Nicholas answered, +meeting them on their own ground and encouraging the idea that we +had stolen the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i>. “And if we +did, what of it?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t admire your taste, that’s +all,” sneered he of the Mexican features. +“I’d rot on the beach first before I’d take a +tub that couldn’t get out of its own way.”</p> +<p>“How were we to know till we tried her?” Nicholas +asked, so innocently as to cause a laugh. “And how do +you get the oysters?” he hurried on. “We want a +load of them; that’s what we came for, a load of +oysters.”</p> +<p>“What d’ye want ’em for?” demanded the +Porpoise.</p> +<p>“Oh, to give away to our friends, of course,” +Nicholas retorted. “That’s what you do with +yours, I suppose.”</p> +<p>This started another laugh, and as our visitors grew more +genial we could see that they had not the slightest suspicion of +our identity or purpose.</p> +<p>“Didn’t I see you on the dock in Oakland the other +day?” the Centipede asked suddenly of me.</p> +<p>“Yep,” I answered boldly, taking the bull by the +horns. “I was watching you fellows and figuring out +whether we’d go oystering or not. It’s a pretty +good business, I calculate, and so we’re going in for +it. That is,” I hastened to add, “if you +fellows don’t mind.”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you one thing, which ain’t two +things,” he replied, “and that is you’ll have +to hump yerself an’ get a better boat. We won’t +stand to be disgraced by any such box as this. +Understand?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” I said. “Soon as we sell some +oysters we’ll outfit in style.”</p> +<p>“And if you show yerself square an’ the right +sort,” he went on, “why, you kin run with us. +But if you don’t” (here his voice became stern and +menacing), “why, it’ll be the sickest day of yer +life. Understand?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” I said.</p> +<p>After that and more warning and advice of similar nature, the +conversation became general, and we learned that the beds were to +be raided that very night. As they got into their boats, +after an hour’s stay, we were invited to join them in the +raid with the assurance of “the more the +merrier.”</p> +<p>“Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?” +Nicholas asked, when they had departed to their various +sloops. “He’s Barchi, of the Sporting Life +Gang, and the fellow that came with him is Skilling. +They’re both out now on five thousand dollars’ +bail.”</p> +<p>I had heard of the Sporting Life Gang before, a crowd of +hoodlums and criminals that terrorized the lower quarters of +Oakland, and two-thirds of which were usually to be found in +state’s prison for crimes that ranged from perjury and +ballot-box stuffing to murder.</p> +<p>“They are not regular oyster pirates,” Nicholas +continued. “They’ve just come down for the lark +and to make a few dollars. But we’ll have to watch +out for them.”</p> +<p>We sat in the cockpit and discussed the details of our plan +till eleven o’clock had passed, when we heard the rattle of +an oar in a boat from the direction of the <i>Ghost</i>. We +hauled up our own skiff, tossed in a few sacks, and rowed +over. There we found all the skiffs assembling, it being +the intention to raid the beds in a body.</p> +<p>To my surprise, I found barely a foot of water where we had +dropped anchor in ten feet. It was the big June run-out of +the full moon, and as the ebb had yet an hour and a half to run, +I knew that our anchorage would be dry ground before slack +water.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft’s beds were three miles away, and for a long +time we rowed silently in the wake of the other boats, once in a +while grounding and our oar blades constantly striking +bottom. At last we came upon soft mud covered with not more +than two inches of water—not enough to float the +boats. But the pirates at once were over the side, and by +pushing and pulling on the flat-bottomed skiffs, we moved +steadily along.</p> +<p>The full moon was partly obscured by high-flying clouds, but +the pirates went their way with the familiarity born of long +practice. After half a mile of the mud, we came upon a deep +channel, up which we rowed, with dead oyster shoals looming high +and dry on either side. At last we reached the picking +grounds. Two men, on one of the shoals, hailed us and +warned us off. But the Centipede, the Porpoise, Barchi, and +Skilling took the lead, and followed by the rest of us, at least +thirty men in half as many boats, rowed right up to the +watchmen.</p> +<p>“You’d better slide outa this here,” Barchi +said threateningly, “or we’ll fill you so full of +holes you wouldn’t float in molasses.”</p> +<p>The watchmen wisely retreated before so overwhelming a force, +and rowed their boat along the channel toward where the shore +should be. Besides, it was in the plan for them to +retreat.</p> +<p>We hauled the noses of the boats up on the shore side of a big +shoal, and all hands, with sacks, spread out and began +picking. Every now and again the clouds thinned before the +face of the moon, and we could see the big oysters quite +distinctly. In almost no time sacks were filled and carried +back to the boats, where fresh ones were obtained. Nicholas +and I returned often and anxiously to the boats with our little +loads, but always found some one of the pirates coming or +going.</p> +<p>“Never mind,” he said; “no hurry. As +they pick farther and farther away, it will take too long to +carry to the boats. Then they’ll stand the full sacks +on end and pick them up when the tide comes in and the skiffs +will float to them.”</p> +<p>Fully half an hour went by, and the tide had begun to flood, +when this came to pass. Leaving the pirates at their work, +we stole back to the boats. One by one, and noiselessly, we +shoved them off and made them fast in an awkward flotilla. +Just as we were shoving off the last skiff, our own, one of the +men came upon us. It was Barchi. His quick eye took +in the situation at a glance, and he sprang for us; but we went +clear with a mighty shove, and he was left floundering in the +water over his head. As soon as he got back to the shoal he +raised his voice and gave the alarm.</p> +<p>We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so +many boats in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a +second, and a third; then a regular fusillade began. The +bullets spat and spat all about us; but thick clouds had covered +the moon, and in the dim darkness it was no more than random +firing. It was only by chance that we could be hit.</p> +<p>“Wish we had a little steam launch,” I panted.</p> +<p>“I’d just as soon the moon stayed hidden,” +Nicholas panted back.</p> +<p>It was slow work, but every stroke carried us farther away +from the shoal and nearer the shore, till at last the shooting +died down, and when the moon did come out we were too far away to +be in danger. Not long afterward we answered a shoreward +hail, and two Whitehall boats, each pulled by three pairs of +oars, darted up to us. Charley’s welcome face bent +over to us, and he gripped us by the hands while he cried, +“Oh, you joys! You joys! Both of +you!”</p> +<p>When the flotilla had been landed, Nicholas and I and a +watchman rowed out in one of the Whitehalls, with Charley in the +stern-sheets. Two other Whitehalls followed us, and as the +moon now shone brightly, we easily made out the oyster pirates on +their lonely shoal. As we drew closer, they fired a +rattling volley from their revolvers, and we promptly retreated +beyond range.</p> +<p>“Lot of time,” Charley said. “The +flood is setting in fast, and by the time it’s up to their +necks there won’t be any fight left in them.”</p> +<p>So we lay on our oars and waited for the tide to do its +work. This was the predicament of the pirates: because of +the big run-out, the tide was now rushing back like a mill-race, +and it was impossible for the strongest swimmer in the world to +make against it the three miles to the sloops. Between the +pirates and the shore were we, precluding escape in that +direction. On the other hand, the water was rising rapidly +over the shoals, and it was only a question of a few hours when +it would be over their heads.</p> +<p>It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight +we watched them through our night glasses and told Charley of the +voyage of the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i>. One o’clock +came, and two o’clock, and the pirates were clustering on +the highest shoal, waist-deep in water.</p> +<p>“Now this illustrates the value of imagination,” +Charley was saying. “Taft has been trying for years +to get them, but he went at it with bull strength and +failed. Now we used our heads . . .”</p> +<p>Just then I heard a scarcely audible gurgle of water, and +holding up my hand for silence, I turned and pointed to a ripple +slowly widening out in a growing circle. It was not more +than fifty feet from us. We kept perfectly quiet and +waited. After a minute the water broke six feet away, and a +black head and white shoulder showed in the moonlight. With +a snort of surprise and of suddenly expelled breath, the head and +shoulder went down.</p> +<p>We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the +current. Four pairs of eyes searched the surface of the +water, but never another ripple showed, and never another glimpse +did we catch of the black head and white shoulder.</p> +<p>“It’s the Porpoise,” Nicholas said. +“It would take broad daylight for us to catch +him.”</p> +<p>At a quarter to three the pirates gave their first sign of +weakening. We heard cries for help, in the unmistakable +voice of the Centipede, and this time, on rowing closer, we were +not fired upon. The Centipede was in a truly perilous +plight. Only the heads and shoulders of his +fellow-marauders showed above the water as they braced themselves +against the current, while his feet were off the bottom and they +were supporting him.</p> +<p>“Now, lads,” Charley said briskly, “we have +got you, and you can’t get away. If you cut up rough, +we’ll have to leave you alone and the water will finish +you. But if you’re good we’ll take you aboard, +one man at a time, and you’ll all be saved. What do +you say?”</p> +<p>“Ay,” they chorused hoarsely between their +chattering teeth.</p> +<p>“Then one man at a time, and the short men +first.”</p> +<p>The Centipede was the first to be pulled aboard, and he came +willingly, though he objected when the constable put the +handcuffs on him. Barchi was next hauled in, quite meek and +resigned from his soaking. When we had ten in, our boat we +drew back, and the second Whitehall was loaded. The third +Whitehall received nine prisoners only—a catch of +twenty-nine in all.</p> +<p>“You didn’t get the Porpoise,” the Centipede +said exultantly, as though his escape materially diminished our +success.</p> +<p>Charley laughed. “But we saw him just the same, +a-snorting for shore like a puffing pig.”</p> +<p>It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up +the beach to the oyster house. In answer to Charley’s +knock, the door was flung open, and a pleasant wave of warm air +rushed out upon us.</p> +<p>“You can dry your clothes here, lads, and get some hot +coffee,” Charley announced, as they filed in.</p> +<p>And there, sitting ruefully by the fire, with a steaming mug +in his hand, was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and +I looked at Charley. He laughed gleefully.</p> +<p>“That comes of imagination,” he said. +“When you see a thing, you’ve got to see it all +around, or what’s the good of seeing it at all? I saw +the beach, so I left a couple of constables behind to keep an eye +on it. That’s all.”</p> +<h2><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>THE +SIEGE OF THE “LANCASHIRE QUEEN”</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Possibly</span> our most exasperating +experience on the fish patrol was when Charley Le Grant and I +laid a two weeks’ siege to a big four-masted English +ship. Before we had finished with the affair, it became a +pretty mathematical problem, and it was by the merest chance that +we came into possession of the instrument that brought it to a +successful termination.</p> +<p>After our raid on the oyster pirates we had returned to +Oakland, where two more weeks passed before Neil +Partington’s wife was out of danger and on the highroad to +recovery. So it was after an absence of a month, all told, +that we turned the <i>Reindeer’s</i> nose toward +Benicia. When the cat’s away the mice will play, and +in these four weeks the fishermen had become very bold in +violating the law. When we passed Point Pedro we noticed +many signs of activity among the shrimp-catchers, and, well into +San Pablo Bay, we observed a widely scattered fleet of Upper Bay +fishing-boats hastily pulling in their nets and getting up +sail.</p> +<p>This was suspicious enough to warrant investigation, and the +first and only boat we succeeded in boarding proved to have an +illegal net. The law permitted no smaller mesh for catching +shad than one that measured seven and one-half inches inside the +knots, while the mesh of this particular net measured only three +inches. It was a flagrant breach of the rules, and the two +fishermen were forthwith put under arrest. Neil Partington +took one of them with him to help manage the <i>Reindeer</i>, +while Charley and I went on ahead with the other in the captured +boat.</p> +<p>But the shad fleet had headed over toward the Petaluma shore +in wild flight, and for the rest of the run through San Pablo Bay +we saw no more fishermen at all. Our prisoner, a bronzed +and bearded Greek, sat sullenly on his net while we sailed his +craft. It was a new Columbia River salmon boat, evidently +on its first trip, and it handled splendidly. Even when +Charley praised it, our prisoner refused to speak or to notice +us, and we soon gave him up as a most unsociable fellow.</p> +<p>We ran up the Carquinez Straits and edged into the bight at +Turner’s Shipyard for smoother water. Here were lying +several English steel sailing ships, waiting for the wheat +harvest; and here, most unexpectedly, in the precise place where +we had captured Big Alec, we came upon two Italians in a skiff +that was loaded with a complete “Chinese” sturgeon +line. The surprise was mutual, and we were on top of them +before either they or we were aware. Charley had barely +time to luff into the wind and run up to them. I ran +forward and tossed them a line with orders to make it fast. +One of the Italians took a turn with it over a cleat, while I +hastened to lower our big spritsail. This accomplished, the +salmon boat dropped astern, dragging heavily on the skiff.</p> +<p>Charley came forward to board the prize, but when I proceeded +to haul alongside by means of the line, the Italians cast it +off. We at once began drifting to leeward, while they got +out two pairs of oars and rowed their light craft directly into +the wind. This manœuvre for the moment disconcerted +us, for in our large and heavily loaded boat we could not hope to +catch them with the oars. But our prisoner came +unexpectedly to our aid. His black eyes were flashing +eagerly, and his face was flushed with suppressed excitement, as +he dropped the centre-board, sprang forward with a single leap, +and put up the sail.</p> +<p>“I’ve always heard that Greeks don’t like +Italians,” Charley laughed, as he ran aft to the +tiller.</p> +<p>And never in my experience have I seen a man so anxious for +the capture of another as was our prisoner in the chase that +followed. His eyes fairly snapped, and his nostrils +quivered and dilated in a most extraordinary way. Charley +steered while he tended the sheet; and though Charley was as +quick and alert as a cat, the Greek could hardly control his +impatience.</p> +<p>The Italians were cut off from the shore, which was fully a +mile away at its nearest point. Did they attempt to make +it, we could haul after them with the wind abeam, and overtake +them before they had covered an eighth of the distance. But +they were too wise to attempt it, contenting themselves with +rowing lustily to windward along the starboard side of a big +ship, the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>. But beyond the ship lay +an open stretch of fully two miles to the shore in that +direction. This, also, they dared not attempt, for we were +bound to catch them before they could cover it. So, when +they reached the bow of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, nothing +remained but to pass around and row down her port side toward the +stern, which meant rowing to leeward and giving us the +advantage.</p> +<p>We in the salmon boat, sailing close on the wind, tacked about +and crossed the ship’s bow. Then Charley put up the +tiller and headed down the port side of the ship, the Greek +letting out the sheet and grinning with delight. The +Italians were already half-way down the ship’s length; but +the stiff breeze at our back drove us after them far faster than +they could row. Closer and closer we came, and I, lying +down forward, was just reaching out to grasp the skiff, when it +ducked under the great stern of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>.</p> +<p>The chase was virtually where it had begun. The Italians +were rowing up the starboard side of the ship, and we were hauled +close on the wind and slowly edging out from the ship as we +worked to windward. Then they darted around her bow and +began the row down her port side, and we tacked about, crossed +her bow, and went plunging down the wind hot after them. +And again, just as I was reaching for the skiff, it ducked under +the ship’s stern and out of danger. And so it went, +around and around, the skiff each time just barely ducking into +safety.</p> +<p>By this time the ship’s crew had become aware of what +was taking place, and we could see their heads in a long row as +they looked at us over the bulwarks. Each time we missed +the skiff at the stern, they set up a wild cheer and dashed +across to the other side of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i> to see +the chase to windward. They showered us and the Italians +with jokes and advice, and made our Greek so angry that at least +once on each circuit he raised his fist and shook it at them in a +rage. They came to look for this, and at each display +greeted it with uproarious mirth.</p> +<p>“Wot a circus!” cried one.</p> +<p>“Tork about yer marine hippodromes,—if this +ain’t one, I’d like to know!” affirmed +another.</p> +<p>“Six-days-go-as-yer-please,” announced a +third. “Who says the dagoes won’t +win?”</p> +<p>On the next tack to windward the Greek offered to change +places with Charley.</p> +<p>“Let-a me sail-a de boat,” he demanded. +“I fix-a them, I catch-a them, sure.”</p> +<p>This was a stroke at Charley’s professional pride, for +pride himself he did upon his boat-sailing abilities; but he +yielded the tiller to the prisoner and took his place at the +sheet. Three times again we made the circuit, and the Greek +found that he could get no more speed out of the salmon boat than +Charley had.</p> +<p>“Better give it up,” one of the sailors advised +from above.</p> +<p>The Greek scowled ferociously and shook his fist in his +customary fashion. In the meanwhile my mind had not been +idle, and I had finally evolved an idea.</p> +<p>“Keep going, Charley, one time more,” I said.</p> +<p>And as we laid out on the next tack to windward, I bent a +piece of line to a small grappling hook I had seen lying in the +bail-hole. The end of the line I made fast to the ring-bolt +in the bow, and with the hook out of sight I waited for the next +opportunity to use it. Once more they made their leeward +pull down the port side of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, and once +more we churned down after them before the wind. Nearer and +nearer we drew, and I was making believe to reach for them as +before. The stern of the skiff was not six feet away, and +they were laughing at me derisively as they ducked under the +ship’s stern. At that instant I suddenly arose and +threw the grappling iron. It caught fairly and squarely on +the rail of the skiff, which was jerked backward out of safety as +the rope tautened and the salmon boat ploughed on.</p> +<p>A groan went up from the row of sailors above, which quickly +changed to a cheer as one of the Italians whipped out a long +sheath-knife and cut the rope. But we had drawn them out of +safety, and Charley, from his place in the stern-sheets, reached +over and clutched the stern of the skiff. The whole thing +happened in a second of time, for the first Italian was cutting +the rope and Charley was clutching the skiff when the second +Italian dealt him a rap over the head with an oar, Charley +released his hold and collapsed, stunned, into the bottom of the +salmon boat, and the Italians bent to their oars and escaped back +under the ship’s stern.</p> +<p>The Greek took both tiller and sheet and continued the chase +around the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, while I attended to Charley, +on whose head a nasty lump was rapidly rising. Our sailor +audience was wild with delight, and to a man encouraged the +fleeing Italians. Charley sat up, with one hand on his +head, and gazed about him sheepishly.</p> +<p>“It will never do to let them escape now,” he +said, at the same time drawing his revolver.</p> +<p>On our next circuit, he threatened the Italians with the +weapon; but they rowed on stolidly, keeping splendid stroke and +utterly disregarding him.</p> +<p>“If you don’t stop, I’ll shoot,” +Charley said menacingly.</p> +<p>But this had no effect, nor were they to be frightened into +surrendering even when he fired several shots dangerously close +to them. It was too much to expect him to shoot unarmed +men, and this they knew as well as we did; so they continued to +pull doggedly round and round the ship.</p> +<p>“We’ll run them down, then!” Charley +exclaimed. “We’ll wear them out and wind +them!”</p> +<p>So the chase continued. Twenty times more we ran them +around the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, and at last we could see that +even their iron muscles were giving out. They were nearly +exhausted, and it was only a matter of a few more circuits, when +the game took on a new feature. On the row to windward they +always gained on us, so that they were half-way down the +ship’s side on the row to leeward when we were passing the +bow. But this last time, as we passed the bow, we saw them +escaping up the ship’s gangway, which had been suddenly +lowered. It was an organized move on the part of the +sailors, evidently countenanced by the captain; for by the time +we arrived where the gangway had been, it was being hoisted up, +and the skiff, slung in the ship’s davits, was likewise +flying aloft out of reach.</p> +<p>The parley that followed with the captain was short and +snappy. He absolutely forbade us to board the <i>Lancashire +Queen</i>, and as absolutely refused to give up the two +men. By this time Charley was as enraged as the +Greek. Not only had he been foiled in a long and ridiculous +chase, but he had been knocked senseless into the bottom of his +boat by the men who had escaped him.</p> +<p>“Knock off my head with little apples,” he +declared emphatically, striking the fist of one hand into the +palm of the other, “if those two men ever escape me! +I’ll stay here to get them if it takes the rest of my +natural life, and if I don’t get them, then I promise you +I’ll live unnaturally long or until I do get them, or my +name’s not Charley Le Grant!”</p> +<p>And then began the siege of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, a +siege memorable in the annals of both fishermen and fish +patrol. When the <i>Reindeer</i> came along, after a +fruitless pursuit of the shad fleet, Charley instructed Neil +Partington to send out his own salmon boat, with blankets, +provisions, and a fisherman’s charcoal stove. By +sunset this exchange of boats was made, and we said good-by to +our Greek, who perforce had to go into Benicia and be locked up +for his own violation of the law. After supper, Charley and +I kept alternate four-hour watches till daylight. The +fishermen made no attempt to escape that night, though the ship +sent out a boat for scouting purposes to find if the coast were +clear.</p> +<p>By the next day we saw that a steady siege was in order, and +we perfected our plans with an eye to our own comfort. A +dock, known as the Solano Wharf, which ran out from the Benicia +shore, helped us in this. It happened that the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i>, the shore at Turner’s Shipyard, +and the Solano Wharf were the corners of a big equilateral +triangle. From ship to shore, the side of the triangle +along which the Italians had to escape, was a distance equal to +that from the Solano Wharf to the shore, the side of the triangle +along which we had to travel to get to the shore before the +Italians. But as we could sail much faster than they could +row, we could permit them to travel about half their side of the +triangle before we darted out along our side. If we allowed +them to get more than half-way, they were certain to beat us to +shore; while if we started before they were half-way, they were +equally certain to beat us back to the ship.</p> +<p>We found that an imaginary line, drawn from the end of the +wharf to a windmill farther along the shore, cut precisely in +half the line of the triangle along which the Italians must +escape to reach the land. This line made it easy for us to +determine how far to let them run away before we bestirred +ourselves in pursuit. Day after day we would watch them +through our glasses as they rowed leisurely along toward the +half-way point; and as they drew close into line with the +windmill, we would leap into the boat and get up sail. At +sight of our preparation, they would turn and row slowly back to +the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, secure in the knowledge that we +could not overtake them.</p> +<p>To guard against calms—when our salmon boat would be +useless—we also had in readiness a light rowing skiff +equipped with spoon-oars. But at such times, when the wind +failed us, we were forced to row out from the wharf as soon as +they rowed from the ship. In the night-time, on the other +hand, we were compelled to patrol the immediate vicinity of the +ship; which we did, Charley and I standing four-hour watches turn +and turn about. The Italians, however, preferred the +daytime in which to escape, and so our long night vigils were +without result.</p> +<p>“What makes me mad,” said Charley, “is our +being kept from our honest beds while those rascally lawbreakers +are sleeping soundly every night. But much good may it do +them,” he threatened. “I’ll keep them on +that ship till the captain charges them board, as sure as a +sturgeon’s not a catfish!”</p> +<p>It was a tantalizing problem that confronted us. As long +as we were vigilant, they could not escape; and as long as they +were careful, we would be unable to catch them. Charley +cudgelled his brains continually, but for once his imagination +failed him. It was a problem apparently without other +solution than that of patience. It was a waiting game, and +whichever waited the longer was bound to win. To add to our +irritation, friends of the Italians established a code of signals +with them from the shore, so that we never dared relax the siege +for a moment. And besides this, there were always one or +two suspicious-looking fishermen hanging around the Solano Wharf +and keeping watch on our actions. We could do nothing but +“grin and bear it,” as Charley said, while it took up +all our time and prevented us from doing other work.</p> +<p>The days went by, and there was no change in the +situation. Not that no attempts were made to change +it. One night friends from the shore came out in a skiff +and attempted to confuse us while the two Italians escaped. +That they did not succeed was due to the lack of a little oil on +the ship’s davits. For we were drawn back from the +pursuit of the strange boat by the creaking of the davits, and +arrived at the <i>Lancashire Queen</i> just as the Italians were +lowering their skiff. Another night, fully half a dozen +skiffs rowed around us in the darkness, but we held on like a +leech to the side of the ship and frustrated their plan till they +grew angry and showered us with abuse. Charley laughed to +himself in the bottom of the boat.</p> +<p>“It’s a good sign, lad,” he said to +me. “When men begin to abuse, make sure they’re +losing patience; and shortly after they lose patience, they lose +their heads. Mark my words, if we only hold out, +they’ll get careless some fine day, and then we’ll +get them.”</p> +<p>But they did not grow careless, and Charley confessed that +this was one of the times when all signs failed. Their +patience seemed equal to ours, and the second week of the siege +dragged monotonously along. Then Charley’s lagging +imagination quickened sufficiently to suggest a ruse. Peter +Boyelen, a new patrolman and one unknown to the fisher-folk, +happened to arrive in Benicia and we took him into our +plan. We were as secret as possible about it, but in some +unfathomable way the friends ashore got word to the beleaguered +Italians to keep their eyes open.</p> +<p>On the night we were to put our ruse into effect, Charley and +I took up our usual station in our rowing skiff alongside the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i>. After it was thoroughly dark, +Peter Boyelen came out in a crazy duck boat, the kind you can +pick up and carry away under one arm. When we heard him +coming along, paddling noisily, we slipped away a short distance +into the darkness, and rested on our oars. Opposite the +gangway, having jovially hailed the anchor-watch of the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i> and asked the direction of the +<i>Scottish Chiefs</i>, another wheat ship, he awkwardly capsized +himself. The man who was standing the anchor-watch ran down +the gangway and hauled him out of the water. This was what +he wanted, to get aboard the ship; and the next thing he expected +was to be taken on deck and then below to warm up and dry +out. But the captain inhospitably kept him perched on the +lowest gangway step, shivering miserably and with his feet +dangling in the water, till we, out of very pity, rowed in from +the darkness and took him off. The jokes and gibes of the +awakened crew sounded anything but sweet in our ears, and even +the two Italians climbed up on the rail and laughed down at us +long and maliciously.</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” Charley said in a low +voice, which I only could hear. “I’m mighty +glad it’s not us that’s laughing first. +We’ll save our laugh to the end, eh, lad?”</p> +<p>He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he finished, but it seemed +to me that there was more determination than hope in his +voice.</p> +<p>It would have been possible for us to secure the aid of United +States marshals and board the English ship, backed by Government +authority. But the instructions of the Fish Commission were +to the effect that the patrolmen should avoid complications, and +this one, did we call on the higher powers, might well end in a +pretty international tangle.</p> +<p>The second week of the siege drew to its close, and there was +no sign of change in the situation. On the morning of the +fourteenth day the change came, and it came in a guise as +unexpected and startling to us as it was to the men we were +striving to capture.</p> +<p>Charley and I, after our customary night vigil by the side of +the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, rowed into the Solana Wharf.</p> +<p>“Hello!” cried Charley, in surprise. +“In the name of reason and common sense, what is +that? Of all unmannerly craft did you ever see the +like?”</p> +<p>Well might he exclaim, for there, tied up to the dock, lay the +strangest looking launch I had ever seen. Not that it could +be called a launch, either, but it seemed to resemble a launch +more than any other kind of boat. It was seventy feet long, +but so narrow was it, and so bare of superstructure, that it +appeared much smaller than it really was. It was built +wholly of steel, and was painted black. Three smokestacks, +a good distance apart and raking well aft, arose in single file +amidships; while the bow, long and lean and sharp as a knife, +plainly advertised that the boat was made for speed. +Passing under the stern, we read <i>Streak</i>, painted in small +white letters.</p> +<p>Charley and I were consumed with curiosity. In a few +minutes we were on board and talking with an engineer who was +watching the sunrise from the deck. He was quite willing to +satisfy our curiosity, and in a few minutes we learned that the +<i>Streak</i> had come in after dark from San Francisco; that +this was what might be called the trial trip; and that she was +the property of Silas Tate, a young mining millionaire of +California, whose fad was high-speed yachts. There was some +talk about turbine engines, direct application of steam, and the +absence of pistons, rods, and cranks,—all of which was +beyond me, for I was familiar only with sailing craft; but I did +understand the last words of the engineer.</p> +<p>“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour, +though you wouldn’t think it,” he concluded +proudly.</p> +<p>“Say it again, man! Say it again!” Charley +exclaimed in an excited voice.</p> +<p>“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an +hour,” the engineer repeated, grinning good-naturedly.</p> +<p>“Where’s the owner?” was Charley’s +next question. “Is there any way I can speak to +him?”</p> +<p>The engineer shook his head. “No, I’m afraid +not. He’s asleep, you see.”</p> +<p>At that moment a young man in blue uniform came on deck +farther aft and stood regarding the sunrise.</p> +<p>“There he is, that’s him, that’s Mr. +Tate,” said the engineer.</p> +<p>Charley walked aft and spoke to him, and while he talked +earnestly the young man listened with an amused expression on his +face. He must have inquired about the depth of water close +in to the shore at Turner’s Shipyard, for I could see +Charley making gestures and explaining. A few minutes later +he came back in high glee.</p> +<p>“Come on lad,” he said. “On to the +dock with you. We’ve got them!”</p> +<p>It was our good fortune to leave the <i>Streak</i> when we +did, for a little later one of the spy fishermen appeared. +Charley and I took up our accustomed places, on the +stringer-piece, a little ahead of the <i>Streak</i> and over our +own boat, where we could comfortably watch the <i>Lancashire +Queen</i>. Nothing occurred till about nine o’clock, +when we saw the two Italians leave the ship and pull along their +side of the triangle toward the shore. Charley looked as +unconcerned as could be, but before they had covered a quarter of +the distance, he whispered to me:</p> +<p>“Forty-five miles an hour . . . nothing can save them . +. . they are ours!”</p> +<p>Slowly the two men rowed along till they were nearly in line +with the windmill. This was the point where we always +jumped into our salmon boat and got up the sail, and the two men, +evidently expecting it, seemed surprised when we gave no +sign.</p> +<p>When they were directly in line with the windmill, as near to +the shore as to the ship, and nearer the shore than we had ever +allowed them before, they grew suspicious. We followed them +through the glasses, and saw them standing up in the skiff and +trying to find out what we were doing. The spy fisherman, +sitting beside us on the stringer-piece was likewise +puzzled. He could not understand our inactivity. The +men in the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but stood up again and +scanned it, as if they thought we might be in hiding there. +But a man came out on the beach and waved a handkerchief to +indicate that the coast was clear. That settled them. +They bent to the oars to make a dash for it. Still Charley +waited. Not until they had covered three-quarters of the +distance from the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, which left them hardly +more than a quarter of a mile to gain the shore, did Charley slap +me on the shoulder and cry:</p> +<p>“They’re ours! They’re +ours!”</p> +<p>We ran the few steps to the side of the <i>Streak</i> and +jumped aboard. Stern and bow lines were cast off in a +jiffy. The <i>Streak</i> shot ahead and away from the +wharf. The spy fisherman we had left behind on the +stringer-piece pulled out a revolver and fired five shots into +the air in rapid succession. The men in the skiff gave +instant heed to the warning, for we could see them pulling away +like mad.</p> +<p>But if they pulled like mad, I wonder how our progress can be +described? We fairly flew. So frightful was the speed +with which we displaced the water, that a wave rose up on either +side our bow and foamed aft in a series of three stiff, +up-standing waves, while astern a great crested billow pursued us +hungrily, as though at each moment it would fall aboard and +destroy us. The <i>Streak</i> was pulsing and vibrating and +roaring like a thing alive. The wind of our progress was +like a gale—a forty-five-mile gale. We could not face +it and draw breath without choking and strangling. It blew +the smoke straight back from the mouths of the smoke-stacks at a +direct right angle to the perpendicular. In fact, we were +travelling as fast as an express train. “We just +<i>streaked</i> it,” was the way Charley told it afterward, +and I think his description comes nearer than any I can give.</p> +<p>As for the Italians in the skiff—hardly had we started, +it seemed to me, when we were on top of them. Naturally, we +had to slow down long before we got to them; but even then we +shot past like a whirlwind and were compelled to circle back +between them and the shore. They had rowed steadily, rising +from the thwarts at every stroke, up to the moment we passed +them, when they recognized Charley and me. That took the +last bit of fight out of them. They hauled in their oars, +and sullenly submitted to arrest.</p> +<p>“Well, Charley,” Neil Partington said, as we +discussed it on the wharf afterward, “I fail to see where +your boasted imagination came into play this time.”</p> +<p>But Charley was true to his hobby. +“Imagination?” he demanded, pointing to the +<i>Streak</i>. “Look at that! just look at it! +If the invention of that isn’t imagination, I should like +to know what is.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” he added, “it’s the other +fellow’s imagination, but it did the work all the +same.”</p> +<h2><a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +84</span>CHARLEY’S COUP</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Perhaps</span> our most laughable exploit +on the fish patrol, and at the same time our most dangerous one, +was when we rounded in, at a single haul, an even score of +wrathful fishermen. Charley called it a “coop,” +having heard Neil Partington use the term; but I think he +misunderstood the word, and thought it meant “coop,” +to catch, to trap. The fishermen, however, coup or coop, +must have called it a Waterloo, for it was the severest stroke +ever dealt them by the fish patrol, while they had invited it by +open and impudent defiance of the law.</p> +<p>During what is called the “open season” the +fishermen might catch as many salmon as their luck allowed and +their boats could hold. But there was one important +restriction. From sun-down Saturday night to sun-up Monday +morning, they were not permitted to set a net. This was a +wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission, for it was +necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity to ascend +the river and lay their eggs. And this law, with only an +occasional violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek +fishermen who caught salmon for the canneries and the market.</p> +<p>One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a +friend in Collinsville, who told him that the full force of +fishermen was out with its nets. Charley and I jumped into +our salmon boat and started for the scene of the trouble. +With a light favoring wind at our back we went through the +Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun Bay, passed the Ship Island +Light, and came upon the whole fleet at work.</p> +<p>But first let me describe the method by which they +worked. The net used is what is known as a gill-net. +It has a simple diamond-shaped mesh which measures at least seven +and one-half inches between the knots. From five to seven +and even eight hundred feet in length, these nets are only a few +feet wide. They are not stationary, but float with the +current, the upper edge supported on the surface by floats, the +lower edge sunk by means of leaden weights.</p> +<p>This arrangement keeps the net upright in the current and +effectually prevents all but the smaller fish from ascending the +river. The salmon, swimming near the surface, as is their +custom, run their heads through these meshes, and are prevented +from going on through by their larger girth of body, and from +going back because of their gills, which catch in the mesh. +It requires two fishermen to set such a net,—one to row the +boat, while the other, standing in the stern, carefully pays out +the net. When it is all out, stretching directly across the +stream, the men make their boat fast to one end of the net and +drift along with it.</p> +<p>As we came upon the fleet of law-breaking fishermen, each boat +two or three hundred yards from its neighbors, and boats and nets +dotting the river as far as we could see, Charley said:</p> +<p>“I’ve only one regret, lad, and that is that I +have’nt a thousand arms so as to be able to catch them +all. As it is, we’ll only be able to catch one boat, +for while we are tackling that one it will be up nets and away +with the rest.”</p> +<p>As we drew closer, we observed none of the usual flurry and +excitement which our appearance invariably produced. +Instead, each boat lay quietly by its net, while the fishermen +favored us with not the slightest attention.</p> +<p>“It’s curious,” Charley muttered. +“Can it be they don’t recognize us?”</p> +<p>I said that it was impossible, and Charley agreed; yet there +was a whole fleet, manned by men who knew us only too well, and +who took no more notice of us than if we were a hay scow or a +pleasure yacht.</p> +<p>This did not continue to be the case, however, for as we bore +down upon the nearest net, the men to whom it belonged detached +their boat and rowed slowly toward the shore. The rest of +the boats showed no, sign of uneasiness.</p> +<p>“That’s funny,” was Charley’s +remark. “But we can confiscate the net, at any +rate.”</p> +<p>We lowered sail, picked up one end of the net, and began to +heave it into the boat. But at the first heave we heard a +bullet zip-zipping past us on the water, followed by the faint +report of a rifle. The men who had rowed ashore were +shooting at us. At the next heave a second bullet went +zipping past, perilously near. Charley took a turn around a +pin and sat down. There were no more shots. But as +soon as he began to heave in, the shooting recommenced.</p> +<p>“That settles it,” he said, flinging the end of +the net overboard. “You fellows want it worse than we +do, and you can have it.”</p> +<p>We rowed over toward the next net, for Charley was intent on +finding out whether or not we were face to face with an organized +defiance. As we approached, the two fishermen proceeded to +cast off from their net and row ashore, while the first two rowed +back and made fast to the net we had abandoned. And at the +second net we were greeted by rifle shots till we desisted and +went on to the third, where the manœuvre was again +repeated.</p> +<p>Then we gave it up, completely routed, and hoisted sail and +started on the long windward beat back to Benicia. A number +of Sundays went by, on each of which the law was persistently +violated. Yet, short of an armed force of soldiers, we +could do nothing. The fishermen had hit upon a new idea and +were using it for all it was worth, while there seemed no way by +which we could get the better of them.</p> +<p>About this time Neil Partington happened along from the Lower +Bay, where he had been for a number of weeks. With him was +Nicholas, the Greek boy who had helped us in our raid on the +oyster pirates, and the pair of them took a hand. We made +our arrangements carefully. It was planned that while +Charley and I tackled the nets, they were to be hidden ashore so +as to ambush the fishermen who landed to shoot at us.</p> +<p>It was a pretty plan. Even Charley said it was. +But we reckoned not half so well as the Greeks. They +forestalled us by ambushing Neil and Nicholas and taking them +prisoners, while, as of old, bullets whistled about our ears when +Charley and I attempted to take possession of the nets. +When we were again beaten off, Neil Partington and Nicholas were +released. They were rather shamefaced when they put in an +appearance, and Charley chaffed them unmercifully. But Neil +chaffed back, demanding to know why Charley’s imagination +had not long since overcome the difficulty.</p> +<p>“Just you wait; the idea’ll come all right,” +Charley promised.</p> +<p>“Most probably,” Neil agreed. “But +I’m afraid the salmon will be exterminated first, and then +there will be no need for it when it does come.”</p> +<p>Neil Partington, highly disgusted with his adventure, departed +for the Lower Bay, taking Nicholas with him, and Charley and I +were left to our own resources. This meant that the Sunday +fishing would be left to itself, too, until such time as +Charley’s idea happened along. I puzzled my head a +good deal to find out some way of checkmating the Greeks, as also +did Charley, and we broached a thousand expedients which on +discussion proved worthless.</p> +<p>The fishermen, on the other hand, were in high feather, and +their boasts went up and down the river to add to our +discomfiture. Among all classes of them we became aware of +a growing insubordination. We were beaten, and they were +losing respect for us. With the loss of respect, contempt +began to arise. Charley began to be spoken of as the +“olda woman,” and I received my rating as the +“pee-wee kid.” The situation was fast becoming +unbearable, and we knew that we should have to deliver a stunning +stroke at the Greeks in order to regain the old-time respect in +which we had stood.</p> +<p>Then one morning the idea came. We were down on +Steamboat Wharf, where the river steamers made their landings, +and where we found a group of amused long-shoremen and loafers +listening to the hard-luck tale of a sleepy-eyed young fellow in +long sea-boots. He was a sort of amateur fisherman, he +said, fishing for the local market of Berkeley. Now +Berkeley was on the Lower Bay, thirty miles away. On the +previous night, he said, he had set his net and dozed off to +sleep in the bottom of the boat.</p> +<p>The next he knew it was morning, and he opened his eyes to +find his boat rubbing softly against the piles of Steamboat Wharf +at Benicia. Also he saw the river steamer <i>Apache</i> +lying ahead of him, and a couple of deck-hands disentangling the +shreds of his net from the paddle-wheel. In short, after he +had gone to sleep, his fisherman’s riding light had gone +out, and the <i>Apache</i> had run over his net. Though +torn pretty well to pieces, the net in some way still remained +foul, and he had had a thirty-mile tow out of his course.</p> +<p>Charley nudged me with his elbow. I grasped his thought +on the instant, but objected:</p> +<p>“We can’t charter a steamboat.”</p> +<p>“Don’t intend to,” he rejoined. +“But let’s run over to Turner’s Shipyard. +I’ve something in my mind there that may be of use to +us.”</p> +<p>And over we went to the shipyard, where Charley led the way to +the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>, lying hauled out on the ways, where she +was being cleaned and overhauled. She was a scow-schooner +we both knew well, carrying a cargo of one hundred and forty tons +and a spread of canvas greater than other schooner on the +bay.</p> +<p>“How d’ye do, Ole,” Charley greeted a big +blue-shirted Swede who was greasing the jaws of the main gaff +with a piece of pork rind.</p> +<p>Ole grunted, puffed away at his pipe, and went on +greasing. The captain of a bay schooner is supposed to work +with his hands just as well as the men.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen verified Charley’s conjecture that the +<i>Mary Rebecca</i>, as soon as launched, would run up the San +Joaquin River nearly to Stockton for a load of wheat. Then +Charley made his proposition, and Ole Ericsen shook his head.</p> +<p>“Just a hook, one good-sized hook,” Charley +pleaded.</p> +<p>“No, Ay tank not,” said Ole Ericsen. +“Der <i>Mary Rebecca</i> yust hang up on efery mud-bank +with that hook. Ay don’t want to lose der <i>Mary +Rebecca</i>. She’s all Ay got.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” Charley hurried to explain. +“We can put the end of the hook through the bottom from the +outside, and fasten it on the inside with a nut. After +it’s done its work, why, all we have to do is to go down +into the hold, unscrew the nut, and out drops the hook. +Then drive a wooden peg into the hole, and the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> will be all right again.”</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen was obstinate for a long time; but in the end, +after we had had dinner with him, he was brought round to +consent.</p> +<p>“Ay do it, by Yupiter!” he said, striking one huge +fist into the palm of the other hand. “But yust hurry +you up wid der hook. Der <i>Mary Rebecca</i> slides into +der water to-night.”</p> +<p>It was Saturday, and Charley had need to hurry. We +headed for the shipyard blacksmith shop, where, under +Charley’s directions, a most generously curved book of +heavy steel was made. Back we hastened to the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i>. Aft of the great centre-board case, through +what was properly her keel, a hole was bored. The end of +the hook was inserted from the outside, and Charley, on the +inside, screwed the nut on tightly. As it stood complete, +the hook projected over a foot beneath the bottom of the +schooner. Its curve was something like the curve of a +sickle, but deeper.</p> +<p>In the late afternoon the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> was launched, +and preparations were finished for the start up-river next +morning. Charley and Ole intently studied the evening sky +for signs of wind, for without a good breeze our project was +doomed to failure. They agreed that there were all the +signs of a stiff westerly wind—not the ordinary afternoon +sea-breeze, but a half-gale, which even then was springing +up.</p> +<p>Next morning found their predictions verified. The sun +was shining brightly, but something more than a half-gale was +shrieking up the Carquinez Straits, and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> +got under way with two reefs in her mainsail and one in her +foresail. We found it quite rough in the Straits and in +Suisun Bay; but as the water grew more land-locked it became +calm, though without let-up in the wind.</p> +<p>Off Ship Island Light the reefs were shaken out, and at +Charley’s suggestion a big fisherman’s staysail was +made all ready for hoisting, and the maintopsail, bunched into a +cap at the masthead, was overhauled so that it could be set on an +instant’s notice.</p> +<p>We were tearing along, wing-and-wing, before the wind, +foresail to starboard and mainsail to port, as we came upon the +salmon fleet. There they were, boats and nets, as on that +first Sunday when they had bested us, strung out evenly over the +river as far as we could see. A narrow space on the +right-hand side of the channel was left clear for steamboats, but +the rest of the river was covered with the wide-stretching +nets. The narrow space was our logical course, but Charley, +at the wheel, steered the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> straight for the +nets. This did not cause any alarm among the fishermen, +because up-river sailing craft are always provided with +“shoes” on the ends of their keels, which permit them +to slip over the nets without fouling them.</p> +<p>“Now she takes it!” Charley cried, as we dashed +across the middle of a line of floats which marked a net. +At one end of this line was a small barrel buoy, at the other the +two fishermen in their boat. Buoy and boat at once began to +draw together, and the fishermen to cry out, as they were jerked +after us. A couple of minutes later we hooked a second net, +and then a third, and in this fashion we tore straight up through +the centre of the fleet.</p> +<p>The consternation we spread among the fishermen was +tremendous. As fast as we hooked a net the two ends of it, +buoy and boat, came together as they dragged out astern; and so +many buoys and boats, coming together at such breakneck speed, +kept the fishermen on the jump to avoid smashing into one +another. Also, they shouted at us like mad to heave to into +the wind, for they took it as some drunken prank on the part of +scow-sailors, little dreaming that we were the fish patrol.</p> +<p>The drag of a single net is very heavy, and Charley and Ole +Ericsen decided that even in such a wind ten nets were all the +<i>Mary Rebecca</i> could take along with her. So when we +had hooked ten nets, with ten boats containing twenty men +streaming along behind us, we veered to the left out of the fleet +and headed toward Collinsville.</p> +<p>We were all jubilant. Charley was handling the wheel as +though he were steering the winning yacht home in a race. +The two sailors who made up the crew of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>, +were grinning and joking. Ole Ericsen was rubbing his huge +hands in child-like glee.</p> +<p>“Ay tank you fish patrol fallers never ban so lucky as +when you sail with Ole Ericsen,” he was saying, when a +rifle cracked sharply astern, and a bullet gouged along the newly +painted cabin, glanced on a nail, and sang shrilly onward into +space.</p> +<p>This was too much for Ole Ericsen. At sight of his +beloved paintwork thus defaced, he jumped up and shook his fist +at the fishermen; but a second bullet smashed into the cabin not +six inches from his head, and he dropped down to the deck under +cover of the rail.</p> +<p>All the fishermen had rifles, and they now opened a general +fusillade. We were all driven to cover—even Charley, +who was compelled to desert the wheel. Had it not been for +the heavy drag of the nets, we would inevitably have broached to +at the mercy of the enraged fishermen. But the nets, +fastened to the bottom of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> well aft, held +her stern into the wind, and she continued to plough on, though +somewhat erratically.</p> +<p>Charley, lying on the deck, could just manage to reach the +lower spokes of the wheel; but while he could steer after a +fashion, it was very awkward. Ole Ericsen bethought himself +of a large piece of sheet steel in the empty hold.</p> +<p>It was in fact a plate from the side of the <i>New Jersey</i>, +a steamer which had recently been wrecked outside the Golden +Gate, and in the salving of which the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> had +taken part.</p> +<p>Crawling carefully along the deck, the two sailors, Ole, and +myself got the heavy plate on deck and aft, where we reared it as +a shield between the wheel and the fishermen. The bullets +whanged and banged against it till it rang like a +bull’s-eye, but Charley grinned in its shelter, and coolly +went on steering.</p> +<p>So we raced along, behind us a howling, screaming bedlam of +wrathful Greeks, Collinsville ahead, and bullets spat-spatting +all around us.</p> +<p>“Ole,” Charley said in a faint voice, “I +don’t know what we’re going to do.”</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen, lying on his back close to the rail and grinning +upward at the sky, turned over on his side and looked at +him. “Ay tank we go into Collinsville yust der +same,” he said.</p> +<p>“But we can’t stop,” Charley groaned. +“I never thought of it, but we can’t stop.”</p> +<p>A look of consternation slowly overspread Ole Ericsen’s +broad face. It was only too true. We had a +hornet’s nest on our hands, and to stop at Collinsville +would be to have it about our ears.</p> +<p>“Every man Jack of them has a gun,” one of the +sailors remarked cheerfully.</p> +<p>“Yes, and a knife, too,” the other sailor +added.</p> +<p>It was Ole Ericsen’s turn to groan. “What +for a Svaidish faller like me monkey with none of my biziness, I +don’t know,” he soliloquized.</p> +<p>A bullet glanced on the stern and sang off to starboard like a +spiteful bee. “There’s nothing to do but plump +the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> ashore and run for it,” was the +verdict of the first cheerful sailor.</p> +<p>“And leaf der <i>Mary Rebecca</i>?” Ole demanded, +with unspeakable horror in his voice.</p> +<p>“Not unless you want to,” was the response. +“But I don’t want to be within a thousand miles of +her when those fellers come aboard”—indicating the +bedlam of excited Greeks towing behind.</p> +<p>We were right in at Collinsville then, and went foaming by +within biscuit-toss of the wharf.</p> +<p>“I only hope the wind holds out,” Charley said, +stealing a glance at our prisoners.</p> +<p>“What of der wind?” Ole demanded +disconsolately. “Der river will not hold out, and +then . . . and then . . .”</p> +<p>“It’s head for tall timber, and the Greeks take +the hindermost,” adjudged the cheerful sailor, while Ole +was stuttering over what would happen when we came to the end of +the river.</p> +<p>We had now reached a dividing of the ways. To the left +was the mouth of the Sacramento River, to the right the mouth of +the San Joaquin. The cheerful sailor crept forward and +jibed over the foresail as Charley put the helm to starboard and +we swerved to the right into the San Joaquin. The wind, +from which we had been running away on an even keel, now caught +us on our beam, and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> was pressed down on +her port side as if she were about to capsize.</p> +<p>Still we dashed on, and still the fishermen dashed on +behind. The value of their nets was greater than the fines +they would have to pay for violating the fish laws; so to cast +off from their nets and escape, which they could easily do, would +profit them nothing. Further, they remained by their nets +instinctively, as a sailor remains by his ship. And still +further, the desire for vengeance was roused, and we could depend +upon it that they would follow us to the ends of the earth, if we +undertook to tow them that far.</p> +<p>The rifle-firing had ceased, and we looked astern to see what +our prisoners were doing. The boats were strung along at +unequal distances apart, and we saw the four nearest ones +bunching together. This was done by the boat ahead trailing +a small rope astern to the one behind. When this was +caught, they would cast off from their net and heave in on the +line till they were brought up to the boat in front. So +great was the speed at which we were travelling, however, that +this was very slow work. Sometimes the men would strain to +their utmost and fail to get in an inch of the rope; at other +times they came ahead more rapidly.</p> +<p>When the four boats were near enough together for a man to +pass from one to another, one Greek from each of three got into +the nearest boat to us, taking his rifle with him. This +made five in the foremost boat, and it was plain that their +intention was to board us. This they undertook to do, by +main strength and sweat, running hand over hand the float-line of +a net. And though it was slow, and they stopped frequently +to rest, they gradually drew nearer.</p> +<p>Charley smiled at their efforts, and said, “Give her the +topsail, Ole.”</p> +<p>The cap at the mainmast head was broken out, and sheet and +downhaul pulled flat, amid a scattering rifle fire from the +boats; and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> lay over and sprang ahead +faster than ever.</p> +<p>But the Greeks were undaunted. Unable, at the increased +speed, to draw themselves nearer by means of their hands, they +rigged from the blocks of their boat sail what sailors call a +“watch-tackle.” One of them, held by the legs +by his mates, would lean far over the bow and make the tackle +fast to the float-line. Then they would heave in on the +tackle till the blocks were together, when the manœuvre +would be repeated.</p> +<p>“Have to give her the staysail,” Charley said.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen looked at the straining <i>Mary Rebecca</i> and +shook his head. “It will take der masts out of +her,” he said.</p> +<p>“And we’ll be taken out of her if you +don’t,” Charley replied.</p> +<p>Ole shot an anxious glance at his masts, another at the boat +load of armed Greeks, and consented.</p> +<p>The five men were in the bow of the boat—a bad place +when a craft is towing. I was watching the behavior of +their boat as the great fisherman’s staysail, far, far +larger than the topsail and used only in light breezes, was +broken out. As the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> lurched forward with +a tremendous jerk, the nose of the boat ducked down into the +water, and the men tumbled over one another in a wild rush into +the stern to save the boat from being dragged sheer under +water.</p> +<p>“That settles them!” Charley remarked, though he +was anxiously studying the behavior of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>, +which was being driven under far more canvas than she was rightly +able to carry.</p> +<p>“Next stop is Antioch!” announced the cheerful +sailor, after the manner of a railway conductor. “And +next comes Merryweather!”</p> +<p>“Come here, quick,” Charley said to me.</p> +<p>I crawled across the deck and stood upright beside him in the +shelter of the sheet steel.</p> +<p>“Feel in my inside pocket,” he commanded, +“and get my notebook. That’s right. Tear +out a blank page and write what I tell you.”</p> +<p>And this is what I wrote:</p> +<blockquote><p>Telephone to Merryweather, to the sheriff, the +constable, or the judge. Tell them we are coming and to +turn out the town. Arm everybody. Have them down on +the wharf to meet us or we are gone gooses.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Now make it good and fast to that marlin-spike, and +stand by to toss it ashore.”</p> +<p>I did as he directed. By then we were close to +Antioch. The wind was shouting through our rigging, the +<i>Mary Rebecca</i> was half over on her side and rushing ahead +like an ocean greyhound. The seafaring folk of Antioch had +seen us breaking out topsail and staysail, a most reckless +performance in such weather, and had hurried to the wharf-ends in +little groups to find out what was the matter.</p> +<p>Straight down the water front we boomed, Charley edging in +till a man could almost leap ashore. When he gave the +signal I tossed the marlinspike. It struck the planking of +the wharf a resounding smash, bounced along fifteen or twenty +feet, and was pounced upon by the amazed onlookers.</p> +<p>It all happened in a flash, for the next minute Antioch was +behind and we were heeling it up the San Joaquin toward +Merryweather, six miles away. The river straightened out +here into its general easterly course, and we squared away before +the wind, wing-and-wing once more, the foresail bellying out to +starboard.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen seemed sunk into a state of stolid despair. +Charley and the two sailors were looking hopeful, as they had +good reason to be. Merryweather was a coal-mining town, +and, it being Sunday, it was reasonable to expect the men to be +in town. Further, the coal-miners had never lost any love +for the Greek fishermen, and were pretty certain to render us +hearty assistance.</p> +<p>We strained our eyes for a glimpse of the town, and the first +sight we caught of it gave us immense relief. The wharves +were black with men. As we came closer, we could see them +still arriving, stringing down the main street, guns in their +hands and on the run. Charley glanced astern at the +fishermen with a look of ownership in his eye which till then had +been missing. The Greeks were plainly overawed by the +display of armed strength and were putting their own rifles +away.</p> +<p>We took in topsail and staysail, dropped the main peak, and as +we got abreast of the principal wharf jibed the mainsail. +The <i>Mary Rebecca</i> shot around into the wind, the captive +fishermen describing a great arc behind her, and forged ahead +till she lost way, when lines we’re flung ashore and she +was made fast. This was accomplished under a hurricane of +cheers from the delighted miners.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen heaved a great sigh. “Ay never tank Ay +see my wife never again,” he confessed.</p> +<p>“Why, we were never in any danger,” said +Charley.</p> +<p>Ole looked at him incredulously.</p> +<p>“Sure, I mean it,” Charley went on. +“All we had to do, any time, was to let go our end—as +I am going to do now, so that those Greeks can untangle their +nets.”</p> +<p>He went below with a monkey-wrench, unscrewed the nut, and let +the hook drop off. When the Greeks had hauled their nets +into their boats and made everything shipshape, a posse of +citizens took them off our hands and led them away to jail.</p> +<p>“Ay tank Ay ban a great big fool,” said Ole +Ericsen. But he changed his mind when the admiring +townspeople crowded aboard to shake hands with him, and a couple +of enterprising newspaper men took photographs of the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> and her captain.</p> +<h2><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +111</span>DEMETRIOS CONTOS</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> must not be thought, from what I +have told of the Greek fishermen, that they were altogether +bad. Far from it. But they were rough men, gathered +together in isolated communities and fighting with the elements +for a livelihood. They lived far away from the law and its +workings, did not understand it, and thought it tyranny. +Especially did the fish laws seem tyrannical. And because +of this, they looked upon the men of the fish patrol as their +natural enemies.</p> +<p>We menaced their lives, or their living, which is the same +thing, in many ways. We confiscated illegal traps and nets, +the materials of which had cost them considerable sums and the +making of which required weeks of labor. We prevented them +from catching fish at many times and seasons, which was +equivalent to preventing them from making as good a living as +they might have made had we not been in existence. And when +we captured them, they were brought into the courts of law, where +heavy cash fines were collected from them. As a result, +they hated us vindictively. As the dog is the natural enemy +of the cat, the snake of man, so were we of the fish patrol the +natural enemies of the fishermen.</p> +<p>But it is to show that they could act generously as well as +hate bitterly that this story of Demetrios Contos is told. +Demetrios Contos lived in Vallejo. Next to Big Alec, he was +the largest, bravest, and most influential man among the +Greeks. He had given us no trouble, and I doubt if he would +ever have clashed with us had he not invested in a new salmon +boat. This boat was the cause of all the trouble. He +had had it built upon his own model, in which the lines of the +general salmon boat were somewhat modified.</p> +<p>To his high elation he found his new boat very fast—in +fact, faster than any other boat on the bay or rivers. +Forthwith he grew proud and boastful: and, our raid with the +<i>Mary Rebecca</i> on the Sunday salmon fishers having wrought +fear in their hearts, he sent a challenge up to Benicia. +One of the local fishermen conveyed it to us; it was to the +effect that Demetrios Contos would sail up from Vallejo on the +following Sunday, and in the plain sight of Benicia set his net +and catch salmon, and that Charley Le Grant, patrolman, might +come and get him if he could. Of course Charley and I had +heard nothing of the new boat. Our own boat was pretty +fast, and we were not afraid to have a brush with any other that +happened along.</p> +<p>Sunday came. The challenge had been bruited abroad, and +the fishermen and seafaring folk of Benicia turned out to a man, +crowding Steamboat Wharf till it looked like the grand stand at a +football match. Charley and I had been sceptical, but the +fact of the crowd convinced us that there was something in +Demetrios Contos’s dare.</p> +<p>In the afternoon, when the sea-breeze had picked up in +strength, his sail hove into view as he bowled along before the +wind. He tacked a score of feet from the wharf, waved his +hand theatrically, like a knight about to enter the lists, +received a hearty cheer in return, and stood away into the +Straits for a couple of hundred yards. Then he lowered +sail, and, drifting the boat sidewise by means of the wind, +proceeded to set his net. He did not set much of it, +possibly fifty feet; yet Charley and I were thunderstruck at the +man’s effrontery. We did not know at the time, but we +learned afterward, that the net he used was old and +worthless. It <i>could</i> catch fish, true; but a catch of +any size would have torn it to pieces.</p> +<p>Charley shook his head and said:</p> +<p>“I confess, it puzzles me. What if he has out only +fifty feet? He could never get it in if we once started for +him. And why does he come here anyway, flaunting his +law-breaking in our faces? Right in our home town, +too.”</p> +<p>Charley’s voice took on an aggrieved tone, and he +continued for some minutes to inveigh against the brazenness of +Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>In the meantime, the man in question was lolling in the stern +of his boat and watching the net floats. When a large fish +is meshed in a gill-net, the floats by their agitation advertise +the fact. And they evidently advertised it to Demetrios, +for he pulled in about a dozen feet of net, and held aloft for a +moment, before he flung it into the bottom of the boat, a big, +glistening salmon. It was greeted by the audience on the +wharf with round after round of cheers. This was more than +Charley could stand.</p> +<p>“Come on, lad,” he called to me; and we lost no +time jumping into our salmon boat and getting up sail.</p> +<p>The crowd shouted warning to Demetrios, and as we darted out +from the wharf we saw him slash his worthless net clear with a +long knife. His sail was all ready to go up, and a moment +later it fluttered in the sunshine. He ran aft, drew in the +sheet, and filled on the long tack toward the Contra Costa +Hills.</p> +<p>By this time we were not more than thirty feet astern. +Charley was jubilant. He knew our boat was fast, and he +knew, further, that in fine sailing few men were his +equals. He was confident that we should surely catch +Demetrios, and I shared his confidence. But somehow we did +not seem to gain.</p> +<p>It was a pretty sailing breeze. We were gliding sleekly +through the water, but Demetrios was slowly sliding away from +us. And not only was he going faster, but he was eating +into the wind a fraction of a point closer than we. This +was sharply impressed upon us when he went about under the Contra +Costa Hills and passed us on the other tack fully one hundred +feet dead to windward.</p> +<p>“Whew!” Charley exclaimed. “Either +that boat is a daisy, or we’ve got a five-gallon coal-oil +can fast to our keel!”</p> +<p>It certainly looked it one way or the other. And by the +time Demetrios made the Sonoma Hills, on the other side of the +Straits, we were so hopelessly outdistanced that Charley told me +to slack off the sheet, and we squared away for Benicia. +The fishermen on Steamboat Wharf showered us with ridicule when +we returned and tied up. Charley and I got out and walked +away, feeling rather sheepish, for it is a sore stroke to +one’s pride when he thinks he has a good boat and knows how +to sail it, and another man comes along and beats him.</p> +<p>Charley mooned over it for a couple of days; then word was +brought to us, as before, that on the next Sunday Demetrios +Contos would repeat his performance. Charley roused +himself. He had our boat out of the water, cleaned and +repainted its bottom, made a trifling alteration about the +centre-board, overhauled the running gear, and sat up nearly all +of Saturday night sewing on a new and much larger sail. So +large did he make it, in fact, that additional ballast was +imperative, and we stowed away nearly five hundred extra pounds +of old railroad iron in the bottom of the boat.</p> +<p>Sunday came, and with it came Demetrios Contos, to break the +law defiantly in open day. Again we had the afternoon +sea-breeze, and again Demetrios cut loose some forty or more feet +of his rotten net, and got up sail and under way under our very +noses. But he had anticipated Charley’s move, and his +own sail peaked higher than ever, while a whole extra cloth had +been added to the after leech.</p> +<p>It was nip and tuck across to the Contra Costa Hills, neither +of us seeming to gain or to lose. But by the time we had +made the return tack to the Sonoma Hills, we could see that, +while we footed it at about equal speed, Demetrios had eaten into +the wind the least bit more than we. Yet Charley was +sailing our boat as finely and delicately as it was possible to +sail it, and getting more out of it than he ever had before.</p> +<p>Of course, he could have drawn his revolver and fired at +Demetrios; but we had long since found it contrary to our natures +to shoot at a fleeing man guilty of only a petty offence. +Also a sort of tacit agreement seemed to have been reached +between the patrolmen and the fishermen. If we did not +shoot while they ran away, they, in turn, did not fight if we +once laid hands on them. Thus Demetrios Contos ran away +from us, and we did no more than try our best to overtake him; +and, in turn, if our boat proved faster than his, or was sailed +better, he would, we knew, make no resistance when we caught up +with him.</p> +<p>With our large sails and the healthy breeze romping up the +Carquinez Straits, we found that our sailing was what is called +“ticklish.” We had to be constantly on the +alert to avoid a capsize, and while Charley steered I held the +main-sheet in my hand with but a single turn round a pin, ready +to let go at any moment. Demetrios, we could see, sailing +his boat alone, had his hands full.</p> +<p>But it was a vain undertaking for us to attempt to catch +him. Out of his inner consciousness he had evolved a boat +that was better than ours. And though Charley sailed fully +as well, if not the least bit better, the boat he sailed was not +so good as the Greek’s.</p> +<p>“Slack away the sheet,” Charley commanded; and as +our boat fell off before the wind, Demetrios’s mocking +laugh floated down to us.</p> +<p>Charley shook his head, saying, “It’s no +use. Demetrios has the better boat. If he tries his +performance again, we must meet it with some new +scheme.”</p> +<p>This time it was my imagination that came to the rescue.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter,” I suggested, on the +Wednesday following, “with my chasing Demetrios in the boat +next Sunday, while you wait for him on the wharf at Vallejo when +he arrives?”</p> +<p>Charley considered it a moment and slapped his knee.</p> +<p>“A good idea! You’re beginning to use that +head of yours. A credit to your teacher, I must +say.”</p> +<p>“But you mustn’t chase him too far,” he went +on, the next moment, “or he’ll head out into San +Pablo Bay instead of running home to Vallejo, and there +I’ll be, standing lonely on the wharf and waiting in vain +for him to arrive.”</p> +<p>On Thursday Charley registered an objection to my plan.</p> +<p>“Everybody’ll know I’ve gone to Vallejo, and +you can depend upon it that Demetrios will know, too. +I’m afraid we’ll have to give up the idea.”</p> +<p>This objection was only too valid, and for the rest of the day +I struggled under my disappointment. But that night a new +way seemed to open to me, and in my eagerness I awoke Charley +from a sound sleep.</p> +<p>“Well,” he grunted, “what’s the +matter? House afire?”</p> +<p>“No,” I replied, “but my head is. +Listen to this. On Sunday you and I will be around Benicia +up to the very moment Demetrios’s sail heaves into +sight. This will lull everybody’s suspicions. +Then, when Demetrios’s sail does heave in sight, do you +stroll leisurely away and up-town. All the fishermen will +think you’re beaten and that you know you’re +beaten.”</p> +<p>“So far, so good,” Charley commented, while I +paused to catch breath.</p> +<p>“And very good indeed,” I continued proudly. +“You stroll carelessly up-town, but when you’re once +out of sight you leg it for all you’re worth for Dan +Maloney’s. Take the little mare of his, and strike +out on the country road for Vallejo. The road’s in +fine condition, and you can make it in quicker time than +Demetrios can beat all the way down against the wind.”</p> +<p>“And I’ll arrange right away for the mare, first +thing in the morning,” Charley said, accepting the modified +plan without hesitation.</p> +<p>“But, I say,” he said, a little later, this time +waking <i>me</i> out of a sound sleep.</p> +<p>I could hear him chuckling in the dark.</p> +<p>“I say, lad, isn’t it rather a novelty for the +fish patrol to be taking to horseback?”</p> +<p>“Imagination,” I answered. “It’s +what you’re always preaching—‘keep thinking one +thought ahead of the other fellow, and you’re bound to win +out.’”</p> +<p>“He! he!” he chuckled. “And if one +thought ahead, including a mare, doesn’t take the other +fellow’s breath away this time, I’m not your humble +servant, Charley Le Grant.”</p> +<p>“But can you manage the boat alone?” he asked, on +Friday. “Remember, we’ve a ripping big sail on +her.”</p> +<p>I argued my proficiency so well that he did not refer to the +matter again till Saturday, when he suggested removing one whole +cloth from the after leech. I guess it was the +disappointment written on my face that made him desist; for I, +also, had a pride in my boat-sailing abilities, and I was almost +wild to get out alone with the big sail and go tearing down the +Carquinez Straits in the wake of the flying Greek.</p> +<p>As usual, Sunday and Demetrios Contos arrived together. +It had become the regular thing for the fishermen to assemble on +Steamboat Wharf to greet his arrival and to laugh at our +discomfiture. He lowered sail a couple of hundred yards out +and set his customary fifty feet of rotten net.</p> +<p>“I suppose this nonsense will keep up as long as his old +net holds out,” Charley grumbled, with intention, in the +hearing of several of the Greeks.</p> +<p>“Den I give-a heem my old-a net-a,” one of them +spoke up, promptly and maliciously.</p> +<p>“I don’t care,” Charley answered. +“I’ve got some old net myself he can have—if +he’ll come around and ask for it.”</p> +<p>They all laughed at this, for they could afford to be +sweet-tempered with a man so badly outwitted as Charley was.</p> +<p>“Well, so long, lad,” Charley called to me a +moment later. “I think I’ll go up-town to +Maloney’s.”</p> +<p>“Let me take the boat out?” I asked.</p> +<p>“If you want to,” was his answer, as he turned on +his heel and walked slowly away.</p> +<p>Demetrios pulled two large salmon out of his net, and I jumped +into the boat. The fishermen crowded around in a spirit of +fun, and when I started to get up sail overwhelmed me with all +sorts of jocular advice. They even offered extravagant bets +to one another that I would surely catch Demetrios, and two of +them, styling themselves the committee of judges, gravely asked +permission to come along with me to see how I did it.</p> +<p>But I was in no hurry. I waited to give Charley all the +time I could, and I pretended dissatisfaction with the stretch of +the sail and slightly shifted the small tackle by which the huge +sprit forces up the peak. It was not until I was sure that +Charley had reached Dan Maloney’s and was on the little +mare’s back, that I cast off from the wharf and gave the +big sail to the wind. A stout puff filled it and suddenly +pressed the lee gunwale down till a couple of buckets of water +came inboard. A little thing like this will happen to the +best small-boat sailors, and yet, though I instantly let go the +sheet and righted, I was cheered sarcastically, as though I had +been guilty of a very awkward blunder.</p> +<p>When Demetrios saw only one person in the fish patrol boat, +and that one a boy, he proceeded to play with me. Making a +short tack out, with me not thirty feet behind, he returned, with +his sheet a little free, to Steamboat Wharf. And there he +made short tacks, and turned and twisted and ducked around, to +the great delight of his sympathetic audience. I was right +behind him all the time, and I dared to do whatever he did, even +when he squared away before the wind and jibed his big sail +over—a most dangerous trick with such a sail in such a +wind.</p> +<p>He depended upon the brisk sea breeze and the strong ebb-tide, +which together kicked up a nasty sea, to bring me to grief. +But I was on my mettle, and never in all my life did I sail a +boat better than on that day. I was keyed up to concert +pitch, my brain was working smoothly and quickly, my hands never +fumbled once, and it seemed that I almost divined the thousand +little things which a small-boat sailor must be taking into +consideration every second.</p> +<p>It was Demetrios who came to grief instead. Something +went wrong with his centre-board, so that it jammed in the case +and would not go all the way down. In a moment’s +breathing space, which he had gained from me by a clever trick, I +saw him working impatiently with the centre-board, trying to +force it down. I gave him little time, and he was compelled +quickly to return to the tiller and sheet.</p> +<p>The centre-board made him anxious. He gave over playing +with me, and started on the long beat to Vallejo. To my +joy, on the first long tack across, I found that I could eat into +the wind just a little bit closer than he. Here was where +another man in the boat would have been of value to him; for, +with me but a few feet astern, he did not dare let go the tiller +and run amidships to try to force down the centre-board.</p> +<p>Unable to hang on as close in the eye of the wind as formerly, +he proceeded to slack his sheet a trifle and to ease off a bit, +in order to outfoot me. This I permitted him to do till I +had worked to windward, when I bore down upon him. As I +drew close, he feinted at coming about. This led me to +shoot into the wind to forestall him. But it was only a +feint, cleverly executed, and he held back to his course while I +hurried to make up lost ground.</p> +<p>He was undeniably smarter than I when it came to +manœuvring. Time after time I all but had him, and +each time he tricked me and escaped. Besides, the wind was +freshening, constantly, and each of us had his hands full to +avoid capsizing. As for my boat, it could not have been +kept afloat but for the extra ballast. I sat cocked over +the weather gunwale, tiller in one hand and sheet in the other; +and the sheet, with a single turn around a pin, I was very often +forced to let go in the severer puffs. This allowed the +sail to spill the wind, which was equivalent to taking off so +much driving power, and of course I lost ground. My +consolation was that Demetrios was as often compelled to do the +same thing.</p> +<p>The strong ebb-tide, racing down the Straits in the teeth of +the wind, caused an unusually heavy and spiteful sea, which +dashed aboard continually. I was dripping wet, and even the +sail was wet half-way up the after leech. Once I did +succeed in outmanœuvring Demetrios, so that my bow bumped +into him amidships. Here was where I should have had +another man. Before I could run forward and leap aboard, he +shoved the boats apart with an oar, laughing mockingly in my face +as he did so.</p> +<p>We were now at the mouth of the Straits, in a bad stretch of +water. Here the Vallejo Straits and the Carquinez Straits +rushed directly at each other. Through the first flowed all +the water of Napa River and the great tide-lands; through the +second flowed all the water of Suisun Bay and the Sacramento and +San Joaquin rivers. And where such immense bodies of water, +flowing swiftly, clashed together, a terrible tide-rip was +produced. To make it worse, the wind howled up San Pablo +Bay for fifteen miles and drove in a tremendous sea upon the +tide-rip.</p> +<p>Conflicting currents tore about in all directions, colliding, +forming whirlpools, sucks, and boils, and shooting up spitefully +into hollow waves which fell aboard as often from leeward as from +windward. And through it all, confused, driven into a +madness of motion, thundered the great smoking seas from San +Pablo Bay.</p> +<p>I was as wildly excited as the water. The boat was +behaving splendidly, leaping and lurching through the welter like +a race-horse. I could hardly contain myself with the joy of +it. The huge sail, the howling wind, the driving seas, the +plunging boat—I, a pygmy, a mere speck in the midst of it, +was mastering the elemental strife, flying through it and over +it, triumphant and victorious.</p> +<p>And just then, as I roared along like a conquering hero, the +boat received a frightful smash and came instantly to a dead +stop. I was flung forward and into the bottom. As I +sprang up I caught a fleeting glimpse of a greenish, +barnacle-covered object, and knew it at once for what it was, +that terror of navigation, a sunken pile. No man may guard +against such a thing. Water-logged and floating just +beneath the surface, it was impossible to sight it in the +troubled water in time to escape.</p> +<p>The whole bow of the boat must have been crushed in, for in a +few seconds the boat was half full. Then a couple of seas +filled it, and it sank straight down, dragged to bottom by the +heavy ballast. So quickly did it all happen that I was +entangled in the sail and drawn under. When I fought my way +to the surface, suffocating, my lungs almost bursting, I could +see nothing of the oars. They must have been swept away by +the chaotic currents. I saw Demetrios Contos looking back +from his boat, and heard the vindictive and mocking tones of his +voice as he shouted exultantly. He held steadily on his +course, leaving me to perish.</p> +<p>There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that +wild confusion, was at the best a matter of but a few +moments. Holding my breath and working with my hands, I +managed to get off my heavy sea-boots and my jacket. Yet +there was very little breath I could catch to hold, and I swiftly +discovered that it was not so much a matter of swimming as of +breathing.</p> +<p>I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San +Pablo whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which +flung themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the +strange sucks would grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me +up in some fierce boiling, where, even as I tried to catch my +breath, a great whitecap would crash down upon my head.</p> +<p>It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was +breathing more water than air, and drowning all the time. +My senses began to leave me, my head to whirl around. I +struggled on, spasmodically, instinctively, and was barely half +conscious when I felt myself caught by the shoulders and hauled +over the gunwale of a boat.</p> +<p>For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face +downward, and with the water running out of my mouth. After +a while, still weak and faint, I turned around to see who was my +rescuer. And there, in the stern, sheet in one hand and +tiller in the other, grinning and nodding good-naturedly, sat +Demetrios Contos. He had intended to leave me to +drown,—he said so afterward,—but his better self had +fought the battle, conquered, and sent him back to me.</p> +<p>“You all-a right?” he asked.</p> +<p>I managed to shape a “yes” on my lips, though I +could not yet speak.</p> +<p>“You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a,” he said. +“So good-a as a man.”</p> +<p>A compliment from Demetrios Contos was a compliment indeed, +and I keenly appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in +acknowledgment.</p> +<p>We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he +was busy with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, +made the boat fast, and helped me out. Then it was, as we +both stood on the wharf, that Charley stepped out from behind a +net-rack and put his hand on Demetrios Contos’s arm.</p> +<p>“He saved my life, Charley,” I protested; +“and I don’t think he ought to be +arrested.”</p> +<p>A puzzled expression came into Charley’s face, which +cleared immediately after, in a way it had when he made up his +mind.</p> +<p>“I can’t help it, lad,” he said +kindly. “I can’t go back on my duty, and +it’s plain duty to arrest him. To-day is Sunday; +there are two salmon in his boat which he caught to-day. +What else can I do?”</p> +<p>“But he saved my life,” I persisted, unable to +make any other argument.</p> +<p>Demetrios Contos’s face went black with rage when he +learned Charley’s judgment. He had a sense of being +unfairly treated. The better part of his nature had +triumphed, he had performed a generous act and saved a helpless +enemy, and in return the enemy was taking him to jail.</p> +<p>Charley and I were out of sorts with each other when we went +back to Benicia. I stood for the spirit of the law and not +the letter; but by the letter Charley made his stand. As +far as he could see, there was nothing else for him to do. +The law said distinctly that no salmon should be caught on +Sunday. He was a patrolman, and it was his duty to enforce +that law. That was all there was to it. He had done +his duty, and his conscience was clear. Nevertheless, the +whole thing seemed unjust to me, and I felt very sorry for +Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>Two days later we went down to Vallejo to the trial. I +had to go along as a witness, and it was the most hateful task +that I ever performed in my life when I testified on the witness +stand to seeing Demetrios catch the two salmon Charley had +captured him with.</p> +<p>Demetrios had engaged a lawyer, but his case was +hopeless. The jury was out only fifteen minutes, and +returned a verdict of guilty. The judge sentenced Demetrios +to pay a fine of one hundred dollars or go to jail for fifty +days.</p> +<p>Charley stepped up to the clerk of the court. “I +want to pay that fine,” he said, at the same time placing +five twenty-dollar gold pieces on the desk. +“It—it was the only way out of it, lad,” he +stammered, turning to me.</p> +<p>The moisture rushed into my eyes as I seized his hand. +“I want to pay—” I began.</p> +<p>“To pay your half?” he interrupted. “I +certainly shall expect you to pay it.”</p> +<p>In the meantime Demetrios had been informed by his lawyer that +his fee likewise had been paid by Charley.</p> +<p>Demetrios came over to shake Charley’s hand, and all his +warm Southern blood flamed in his face. Then, not to be +outdone in generosity, he insisted on paying his fine and +lawyer’s fee himself, and flew half-way into a passion +because Charley refused to let him.</p> +<p>More than anything else we ever did, I think, this action of +Charley’s impressed upon the fishermen the deeper +significance of the law. Also Charley was raised high in +their esteem, while I came in for a little share of praise as a +boy who knew how to sail a boat. Demetrios Contos not only +never broke the law again, but he became a very good friend of +ours, and on more than one occasion he ran up to Benicia to have +a gossip with us.</p> +<h2><a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +134</span>YELLOW HANDKERCHIEF</h2> +<p>“<span class="smcap">I’m</span> not wanting to +dictate to you, lad,” Charley said; “but I’m +very much against your making a last raid. You’ve +gone safely through rough times with rough men, and it would be a +shame to have something happen to you at the very end.”</p> +<p>“But how can I get out of making a last raid?” I +demanded, with the cocksureness of youth. “There +always has to be a last, you know, to anything.”</p> +<p>Charley crossed his legs, leaned back, and considered the +problem. “Very true. But why not call the +capture of Demetrios Contos the last? You’re back +from it safe and sound and hearty, for all your good wetting, +and—and—” His voice broke and he could +not speak for a moment. “And I could never forgive +myself if anything happened to you now.”</p> +<p>I laughed at Charley’s fears while I gave in to the +claims of his affection, and agreed to consider the last raid +already performed. We had been together for two years, and +now I was leaving the fish patrol in order to go back and finish +my education. I had earned and saved money to put me +through three years at the high school, and though the beginning +of the term was several months away, I intended doing a lot of +studying for the entrance examinations.</p> +<p>My belongings were packed snugly in a sea-chest, and I was all +ready to buy my ticket and ride down on the train to Oakland, +when Neil Partington arrived in Benicia. The +<i>Reindeer</i> was needed immediately for work far down on the +Lower Bay, and Neil said he intended to run straight for +Oakland. As that was his home and as I was to live with his +family while going to school, he saw no reason, he said, why I +should not put my chest aboard and come along.</p> +<p>So the chest went aboard, and in the middle of the afternoon +we hoisted the <i>Reindeer’s</i> big mainsail and cast +off. It was tantalizing fall weather. The sea-breeze, +which had blown steadily all summer, was gone, and in its place +were capricious winds and murky skies which made the time of +arriving anywhere extremely problematical. We started on +the first of the ebb, and as we slipped down the Carquinez +Straits, I looked my last for some time upon Benicia and the +bight at Turner’s Shipyard, where we had besieged the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i>, and had captured Big Alec, the King of +the Greeks. And at the mouth of the Straits I looked with +not a little interest upon the spot where a few days before I +should have drowned but for the good that was in the nature of +Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>A great wall of fog advanced across San Pablo Bay to meet us, +and in a few minutes the <i>Reindeer</i> was running blindly +through the damp obscurity. Charley, who was steering, +seemed to have an instinct for that kind of work. How he +did it, he himself confessed that he did not know; but he had a +way of calculating winds, currents, distance, time, drift, and +sailing speed that was truly marvellous.</p> +<p>“It looks as though it were lifting,” Neil +Partington said, a couple of hours after we had entered the +fog. “Where do you say we are, Charley?”</p> +<p>Charley looked at his watch, “Six o’clock, and +three hours more of ebb,” he remarked casually.</p> +<p>“But where do you say we are?” Neil insisted.</p> +<p>Charley pondered a moment, and then answered, “The tide +has edged us over a bit out of our course, but if the fog lifts +right now, as it is going to lift, you’ll find we’re +not more than a thousand miles off McNear’s +Landing.”</p> +<p>“You might be a little more definite by a few miles, +anyway,” Neil grumbled, showing by his tone that he +disagreed.</p> +<p>“All right, then,” Charley said, conclusively, +“not less than a quarter of a mile, not more than a +half.”</p> +<p>The wind freshened with a couple of little puffs, and the fog +thinned perceptibly.</p> +<p>“McNear’s is right off there,” Charley said, +pointing directly into the fog on our weather beam.</p> +<p>The three of us were peering intently in that direction, when +the <i>Reindeer</i> struck with a dull crash and came to a +standstill. We ran forward, and found her bowsprit +entangled in the tanned rigging of a short, chunky mast. +She had collided, head on, with a Chinese junk lying at +anchor.</p> +<p>At the moment we arrived forward, five Chinese, like so many +bees, came swarming out of the little ’tween-decks cabin, +the sleep still in their eyes.</p> +<p>Leading them came a big, muscular man, conspicuous for his +pock-marked face and the yellow silk handkerchief swathed about +his head. It was Yellow Handkerchief, the Chinaman whom we +had arrested for illegal shrimp-fishing the year before, and who, +at that time, had nearly sunk the <i>Reindeer</i>, as he had +nearly sunk it now by violating the rules of navigation.</p> +<p>“What d’ye mean, you yellow-faced heathen, lying +here in a fairway without a horn a-going?” Charley cried +hotly.</p> +<p>“Mean?” Neil calmly answered. “Just +take a look—that’s what he means.”</p> +<p>Our eyes followed the direction indicated by Neil’s +finger, and we saw the open amidships of the junk, half filled, +as we found on closer examination, with fresh-caught +shrimps. Mingled with the shrimps were myriads of small +fish, from a quarter of an inch upward in size.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief had lifted the trap-net at high-water +slack, and, taking advantage of the concealment offered by the +fog, had boldly been lying by, waiting to lift the net again at +low-water slack.</p> +<p>“Well,” Neil hummed and hawed, “in all my +varied and extensive experience as a fish patrolman, I must say +this is the easiest capture I ever made. What’ll we +do with them, Charley?”</p> +<p>“Tow the junk into San Rafael, of course,” came +the answer. Charley turned to me. “You stand by +the junk, lad, and I’ll pass you a towing line. If +the wind doesn’t fail us, we’ll make the creek before +the tide gets too low, sleep at San Rafael, and arrive in Oakland +to-morrow by midday.”</p> +<p>So saying, Charley and Neil returned to the <i>Reindeer</i> +and got under way, the junk towing astern. I went aft and +took charge of the prize, steering by means of an antiquated +tiller and a rudder with large, diamond-shaped holes, through +which the water rushed back and forth.</p> +<p>By now the last of the fog had vanished, and Charley’s +estimate of our position was confirmed by the sight of +McNear’s Landing a short half-mile away. Following +along the west shore, we rounded Point Pedro in plain view of the +Chinese shrimp villages, and a great to-do was raised when they +saw one of their junks towing behind the familiar fish patrol +sloop.</p> +<p>The wind, coming off the land, was rather puffy and uncertain, +and it would have been more to our advantage had it been +stronger. San Rafael Creek, up which we had to go to reach +the town and turn over our prisoners to the authorities, ran +through wide-stretching marshes, and was difficult to navigate on +a falling tide, while at low tide it was impossible to navigate +at all. So, with the tide already half-ebbed, it was +necessary for us to make time. This the heavy junk +prevented, lumbering along behind and holding the <i>Reindeer</i> +back by just so much dead weight.</p> +<p>“Tell those coolies to get up that sail,” Charley +finally called to me. “We don’t want to hang up +on the mud flats for the rest of the night.”</p> +<p>I repeated the order to Yellow Handkerchief, who mumbled it +huskily to his men. He was suffering from a bad cold, which +doubled him up in convulsive coughing spells and made his eyes +heavy and bloodshot. This made him more evil-looking than +ever, and when he glared viciously at me I remembered with a +shiver the close shave I had had with him at the time of his +previous arrest.</p> +<p>His crew sullenly tailed on to the halyards, and the strange, +outlandish sail, lateen in rig and dyed a warm brown, rose in the +air. We were sailing on the wind, and when Yellow +Handkerchief flattened down the sheet the junk forged ahead and +the tow-line went slack. Fast as the <i>Reindeer</i> could +sail, the junk outsailed her; and to avoid running her down I +hauled a little closer on the wind. But the junk likewise +outpointed, and in a couple of minutes I was abreast of the +<i>Reindeer</i> and to windward. The tow-line had now +tautened, at right angles to the two boats, and the predicament +was laughable.</p> +<p>“Cast off!” I shouted.</p> +<p>Charley hesitated.</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” I added. +“Nothing can happen. We’ll make the creek on +this tack, and you’ll be right behind me all the way up to +San Rafael.”</p> +<p>At this Charley cast off, and Yellow Handkerchief sent one of +his men forward to haul in the line. In the gathering +darkness I could just make out the mouth of San Rafael Creek, and +by the time we entered it I could barely see its banks. The +<i>Reindeer</i> was fully five minutes astern, and we continued +to leave her astern as we beat up the narrow, winding +channel. With Charley behind us, it seemed I had little to +fear from my five prisoners; but the darkness prevented my +keeping a sharp eye on them, so I transferred my revolver from my +trousers pocket to the side pocket of my coat, where I could more +quickly put my hand on it.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared, and that he knew it +and made use of it, subsequent events will show. He was +sitting a few feet away from me, on what then happened to be the +weather side of the junk. I could scarcely see the outlines +of his form, but I soon became convinced that he was slowly, very +slowly, edging closer to me. I watched him carefully. +Steering with my left hand, I slipped my right into my pocket and +got hold of the revolver.</p> +<p>I saw him shift along for a couple of inches, and I was just +about to order him back—the words were trembling on the tip +of my tongue—when I was struck with great force by a heavy +figure that had leaped through the air upon me from the lee +side. It was one of the crew. He pinioned my right +arm so that I could not withdraw my hand from my pocket, and at +the same time clapped his other hand over my mouth. Of +course, I could have struggled away from him and freed my hand or +gotten my mouth clear so that I might cry an alarm, but in a +trice Yellow Handkerchief was on top of me.</p> +<p>I struggled around to no purpose in the bottom of the junk, +while my legs and arms were tied and my mouth securely bound in +what I afterward found to be a cotton shirt. Then I was +left lying in the bottom. Yellow Handkerchief took the +tiller, issuing his orders in whispers; and from our position at +the time, and from the alteration of the sail, which I could +dimly make out above me as a blot against the stars, I knew the +junk was being headed into the mouth of a small slough which +emptied at that point into San Rafael Creek.</p> +<p>In a couple of minutes we ran softly alongside the bank, and +the sail was silently lowered. The Chinese kept very +quiet. Yellow Handkerchief sat down in the bottom alongside +of me, and I could feel him straining to repress his raspy, +hacking cough. Possibly seven or eight minutes later I +heard Charley’s voice as the <i>Reindeer</i> went past the +mouth of the slough.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” I +could plainly hear him saying to Neil, “that the lad has +finished with the fish patrol without accident.”</p> +<p>Here Neil said something which I could not catch, and then +Charley’s voice went on:</p> +<p>“The youngster takes naturally to the water, and if, +when he finishes high school, he takes a course in navigation and +goes deep sea, I see no reason why he shouldn’t rise to be +master of the finest and biggest ship afloat.”</p> +<p>It was all very flattering to me, but lying there, bound and +gagged by my own prisoners, with the voices growing faint and +fainter as the <i>Reindeer</i> slipped on through the darkness +toward San Rafael, I must say I was not in quite the proper +situation to enjoy my smiling future. With the +<i>Reindeer</i> went my last hope. What was to happen next +I could not imagine, for the Chinese were a different race from +mine, and from what I knew I was confident that fair play was no +part of their make-up.</p> +<p>After waiting a few minutes longer, the crew hoisted the +lateen sail, and Yellow Handkerchief steered down toward the +mouth of San Rafael Creek. The tide was getting lower, and +he had difficulty in escaping the mud-banks. I was hoping +he would run aground, but he succeeded in making the Bay without +accident.</p> +<p>As we passed out of the creek a noisy discussion arose, which +I knew related to me. Yellow Handkerchief was vehement, but +the other four as vehemently opposed him. It was very +evident that he advocated doing away with me and that they were +afraid of the consequences. I was familiar enough with the +Chinese character to know that fear alone restrained them. +But what plan they offered in place of Yellow +Handkerchief’s murderous one, I could not make out.</p> +<p>My feelings, as my fate hung in the balance, may be +guessed. The discussion developed into a quarrel, in the +midst of which Yellow Handkerchief unshipped the heavy tiller and +sprang toward me. But his four companions threw themselves +between, and a clumsy struggle took place for possession of the +tiller. In the end Yellow Handkerchief was overcome, and +sullenly returned to the steering, while they soundly berated him +for his rashness.</p> +<p>Not long after, the sail was run down and the junk slowly +urged forward by means of the sweeps. I felt it ground +gently on the soft mud. Three of the Chinese—they all +wore long sea-boots—got over the side, and the other two +passed me across the rail. With Yellow Handkerchief at my +legs and his two companions at my shoulders, they began to +flounder along through the mud. After some time their feet +struck firmer footing, and I knew they were carrying me up some +beach. The location of this beach was not doubtful in my +mind. It could be none other than one of the Marin Islands, +a group of rocky islets which lay off the Marin County shore.</p> +<p>When they reached the firm sand that marked high tide, I was +dropped, and none too gently. Yellow Handkerchief kicked me +spitefully in the ribs, and then the trio floundered back through +the mud to the junk. A moment later I heard the sail go up +and slat in the wind as they drew in the sheet. Then +silence fell, and I was left to my own devices for getting +free.</p> +<p>I remembered having seen tricksters writhe and squirm out of +ropes with which they were bound, but though I writhed and +squirmed like a good fellow, the knots remained as hard as ever, +and there was no appreciable slack. In the course of my +squirming, however, I rolled over upon a heap of +clam-shells—the remains, evidently, of some yachting +party’s clam-bake. This gave me an idea. My +hands were tied behind my back; and, clutching a shell in them, I +rolled over and over, up the beach, till I came to the rocks I +knew to be there.</p> +<p>Rolling around and searching, I finally discovered a narrow +crevice, into which I shoved the shell. The edge of it was +sharp, and across the sharp edge I proceeded to saw the rope that +bound my wrists. The edge of the shell was also brittle, +and I broke it by bearing too heavily upon it. Then I +rolled back to the heap and returned with as many shells as I +could carry in both hands. I broke many shells, cut my +hands a number of times, and got cramps in my legs from my +strained position and my exertions.</p> +<p>While I was suffering from the cramps, and resting, I heard a +familiar halloo drift across the water. It was Charley, +searching for me. The gag in my mouth prevented me from +replying, and I could only lie there, helplessly fuming, while he +rowed past the island and his voice slowly lost itself in the +distance.</p> +<p>I returned to the sawing process, and at the end of half an +hour succeeded in severing the rope. The rest was +easy. My hands once free, it was a matter of minutes to +loosen my legs and to take the gag out of my mouth. I ran +around the island to make sure it <i>was</i> an island and not by +any chance a portion of the mainland. An island it +certainly was, one of the Marin group, fringed with a sandy beach +and surrounded by a sea of mud. Nothing remained but to +wait till daylight and to keep warm; for it was a cold, raw night +for California, with just enough wind to pierce the skin and +cause one to shiver.</p> +<p>To keep up the circulation, I ran around the island a dozen +times or so, and clambered across its rocky backbone as many +times more—all of which was of greater service to me, as I +afterward discovered, than merely to warm me up. In the +midst of this exercise I wondered if I had lost anything out of +my pockets while rolling over and over in the sand. A +search showed the absence of my revolver and pocket-knife. +The first Yellow Handkerchief had taken; but the knife had been +lost in the sand.</p> +<p>I was hunting for it when the sound of rowlocks came to my +ears. At first, of course, I thought of Charley; but on +second thought I knew Charley would be calling out as he rowed +along. A sudden premonition of danger seized me. The +Marin Islands are lonely places; chance visitors in the dead of +night are hardly to be expected. What if it were Yellow +Handkerchief? The sound made by the rowlocks grew more +distinct. I crouched in the sand and listened +intently. The boat, which I judged a small skiff from the +quick stroke of the oars, was landing in the mud about fifty +yards up the beach. I heard a raspy, hacking cough, and my +heart stood still. It was Yellow Handkerchief. Not to +be robbed of his revenge by his more cautious companions, he had +stolen away from the village and come back alone.</p> +<p>I did some swift thinking. I was unarmed and helpless on +a tiny islet, and a yellow barbarian, whom I had reason to fear, +was coming after me. Any place was safer than the island, +and I turned instinctively to the water, or rather to the +mud. As he began to flounder ashore through the mud, I +started to flounder out into it, going over the same course which +the Chinese had taken in landing me and in returning to the +junk.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief, believing me to be lying tightly bound, +exercised no care, but came ashore noisily. This helped me, +for, under the shield of his noise and making no more myself than +necessary, I managed to cover fifty feet by the time he had made +the beach. Here I lay down in the mud. It was cold +and clammy, and made me shiver, but I did not care to stand up +and run the risk of being discovered by his sharp eyes.</p> +<p>He walked down the beach straight to where he had left me +lying, and I had a fleeting feeling of regret at not being able +to see his surprise when he did not find me. But it was a +very fleeting regret, for my teeth were chattering with the +cold.</p> +<p>What his movements were after that I had largely to deduce +from the facts of the situation, for I could scarcely see him in +the dim starlight. But I was sure that the first thing he +did was to make the circuit of the beach to learn if landings had +been made by other boats. This he would have known at once +by the tracks through the mud.</p> +<p>Convinced that no boat had removed me from the island, he next +started to find out what had become of me. Beginning at the +pile of clam-shells, he lighted matches to trace my tracks in the +sand. At such times I could see his villanous face plainly, +and, when the sulphur from the matches irritated his lungs, +between the raspy cough that followed and the clammy mud in which +I was lying, I confess I shivered harder than ever.</p> +<p>The multiplicity of my footprints puzzled him. Then the +idea that I might be out in the mud must have struck him, for he +waded out a few yards in my direction, and, stooping, with his +eyes searched the dim surface long and carefully. He could +not have been more than fifteen feet from me, and had he lighted +a match he would surely have discovered me.</p> +<p>He returned to the beach and clambered about, over the rocky +backbone, again hunting for me with lighted matches, The +closeness of the shave impelled me to further flight. Not +daring to wade upright, on account of the noise made by +floundering and by the suck of the mud, I remained lying down in +the mud and propelled myself over its surface by means of my +hands. Still keeping the trail made by the Chinese in going +from and to the junk, I held on until I reached the water. +Into this I waded to a depth of three feet, and then I turned off +to the side on a line parallel with the beach.</p> +<p>The thought came to me of going toward Yellow +Handkerchief’s skiff and escaping in it, but at that very +moment he returned to the beach, and, as though fearing the very +thing I had in mind, he slushed out through the mud to assure +himself that the skiff was safe. This turned me in the +opposite direction. Half swimming, half wading, with my +head just out of water and avoiding splashing, I succeeded in +putting about a hundred feet between myself and the spot where +the Chinese had begun to wade ashore from the junk. I drew +myself out on the mud and remained lying flat.</p> +<p>Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a +search of the island, and again he returned to the heap of +clam-shells. I knew what was running in his mind as well as +he did himself. No one could leave or land without making +tracks in the mud. The only tracks to be seen were those +leading from his skiff and from where the junk had been. I +was not on the island. I must have left it by one or the +other of those two tracks. He had just been over the one to +his skiff, and was certain I had not left that way. +Therefore I could have left the island only by going over the +tracks of the junk landing. This he proceeded to verify by +wading out over them himself, lighting matches as he came +along.</p> +<p>When he arrived at the point where I had first lain, I knew, +by the matches he burned and the time he took, that he had +discovered the marks left by my body. These he followed +straight to the water and into it, but in three feet of water he +could no longer see them. On the other hand, as the tide +was still falling, he could easily make out the impression made +by the junk’s bow, and could have likewise made out the +impression of any other boat if it had landed at that particular +spot. But there was no such mark; and I knew that he was +absolutely convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the mud.</p> +<p>But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be +like hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt +it. Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around +for some time. I was hoping he would give me up and go, for +by this time I was suffering severely from the cold. At +last he waded out to his skiff and rowed away. What if this +departure of Yellow Handkerchief’s were a sham? What +if he had done it merely to entice me ashore?</p> +<p>The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had +made a little too much noise with his oars as he rowed +away. So I remained, lying in the mud and shivering. +I shivered till the muscles of the small of my back ached and +pained me as badly as the cold, and I had need of all my +self-control to force myself to remain in my miserable +situation.</p> +<p>It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, +I thought I could make out something moving on the beach. I +watched intently, but my ears were rewarded first, by a raspy +cough I knew only too well. Yellow Handkerchief had sneaked +back, landed on the other side of the island, and crept around to +surprise me if I had returned.</p> +<p>After that, though hours passed without sign of him, I was +afraid to return to the island at all. On the other hand, I +was almost equally afraid that I should die of the exposure I was +undergoing. I had never dreamed one could suffer so. +I grew so cold and numb, finally, that I ceased to shiver. +But my muscles and bones began to ache in a way that was +agony. The tide had long since begun to rise, and, foot by +foot, it drove me in toward the beach. High water came at +three o’clock, and at three o’clock I drew myself up +on the beach, more dead than alive, and too helpless to have +offered any resistance had Yellow Handkerchief swooped down upon +me.</p> +<p>But no Yellow Handkerchief appeared. He had given me up +and gone back to Point Pedro. Nevertheless, I was in a +deplorable, not to say dangerous, condition. I could not +stand upon my feet, much less walk. My clammy, muddy +garments clung to me like sheets of ice. I thought I should +never get them off. So numb and lifeless were my fingers, +and so weak was I, that it seemed to take an hour to get off my +shoes. I had not the strength to break the porpoise-hide +laces, and the knots defied me. I repeatedly beat my hands +upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them. +Sometimes I felt sure I was going to die.</p> +<p>But in the end,—after several centuries, it seemed to +me,—I got off the last of my clothes. The water was +now close at hand, and I crawled painfully into it and washed the +mud from my naked body. Still, I could not get on my feet +and walk and I was afraid to lie still. Nothing remained +but to crawl weakly, like a snail, and at the cost of constant +pain, up and down the sand. I kept this up as long as +possible, but as the east paled with the coming of dawn I began +to succumb. The sky grew rosy-red, and the golden rim of +the sun, showing above the horizon, found me lying helpless and +motionless among the clam-shells.</p> +<p>As in a dream, I saw the familiar mainsail of the +<i>Reindeer</i> as she slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light +puff of morning air. This dream was very much broken. +There are intervals I can never recollect on looking back over +it. Three things, however, I distinctly remember: the first +sight of the <i>Reindeer’s</i> mainsail; her lying at +anchor a few hundred feet away and a small boat leaving her side; +and the cabin stove roaring red-hot, myself swathed all over with +blankets, except on the chest and shoulders, which Charley was +pounding and mauling unmercifully, and my mouth and throat +burning with the coffee which Neil Partington was pouring down a +trifle too hot.</p> +<p>But burn or no burn, I tell you it felt good. By the +time we arrived in Oakland I was as limber and strong as +ever,—though Charlie and Neil Partington were afraid I was +going to have pneumonia, and Mrs. Partington, for my first six +months of school, kept an anxious eye upon me to discover the +first symptoms of consumption.</p> +<p>Time flies. It seems but yesterday that I was a lad of +sixteen on the fish patrol. Yet I know that I arrived this +very morning from China, with a quick passage to my credit, and +master of the barkentine <i>Harvester</i>. And I know that +to-morrow morning I shall run over to Oakland to see Neil +Partington and his wife and family, and later on up to Benicia to +see Charley Le Grant and talk over old times. No; I shall +not go to Benicia, now that I think about it. I expect to +be a highly interested party to a wedding, shortly to take +place. Her name is Alice Partington, and, since Charley has +promised to be best man, he will have to come down to Oakland +instead.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE FISH PATROL***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 911-h.htm or 911-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/9/1/911 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/911-h/images/coverb.jpg b/911-h/images/coverb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98ec136 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/coverb.jpg diff --git a/911-h/images/covers.jpg b/911-h/images/covers.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1f763b --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/covers.jpg diff --git a/911-h/images/fpb.jpg b/911-h/images/fpb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..696a113 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/fpb.jpg diff --git a/911-h/images/fps.jpg b/911-h/images/fps.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..527882c --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/fps.jpg diff --git a/911-h/images/tpb.jpg b/911-h/images/tpb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4463f56 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/tpb.jpg diff --git a/911-h/images/tps.jpg b/911-h/images/tps.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf6a7d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/911-h/images/tps.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c48bf0c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #911 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/911) diff --git a/old/totfp10.txt b/old/totfp10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a71e35d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/totfp10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3865 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London +(#8 in our series by Jack London) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Tales of the Fish Patrol + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #911] +[This file was first posted on March 22, 1997] +[Most recently updated: May 12, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES OF THE FISH PATROL *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1914 edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +Tales of the Fish Patrol + + + + +WHITE AND YELLOW + + + +San Francisco Bay is so large that often its storms are more +disastrous to ocean-going craft than is the ocean itself in its +violent moments. The waters of the bay contain all manner of fish, +wherefore its surface is ploughed by the keels of all manner of +fishing boats manned by all manner of fishermen. To protect the +fish from this motley floating population many wise laws have been +passed, and there is a fish patrol to see that these laws are +enforced. Exciting times are the lot of the fish patrol: in its +history more than one dead patrolman has marked defeat, and more +often dead fishermen across their illegal nets have marked success. + +Wildest among the fisher-folk may be accounted the Chinese shrimp- +catchers. It is the habit of the shrimp to crawl along the bottom +in vast armies till it reaches fresh water, when it turns about and +crawls back again to the salt. And where the tide ebbs and flows, +the Chinese sink great bag-nets to the bottom, with gaping mouths, +into which the shrimp crawls and from which it is transferred to +the boiling-pot. This in itself would not be bad, were it not for +the small mesh of the nets, so small that the tiniest fishes, +little new-hatched things not a quarter of an inch long, cannot +pass through. The beautiful beaches of Points Pedro and Pablo, +where are the shrimp-catchers' villages, are made fearful by the +stench from myriads of decaying fish, and against this wasteful +destruction it has ever been the duty of the fish patrol to act. + +When I was a youngster of sixteen, a good sloop-sailor and all- +round bay-waterman, my sloop, the Reindeer, was chartered by the +Fish Commission, and I became for the time being a deputy +patrolman. After a deal of work among the Greek fishermen of the +Upper Bay and rivers, where knives flashed at the beginning of +trouble and men permitted themselves to be made prisoners only +after a revolver was thrust in their faces, we hailed with delight +an expedition to the Lower Bay against the Chinese shrimp-catchers. + +There were six of us, in two boats, and to avoid suspicion we ran +down after dark and dropped anchor under a projecting bluff of land +known as Point Pinole. As the east paled with the first light of +dawn we got under way again, and hauled close on the land breeze as +we slanted across the bay toward Point Pedro. The morning mists +curled and clung to the water so that we could see nothing, but we +busied ourselves driving the chill from our bodies with hot coffee. +Also we had to devote ourselves to the miserable task of bailing, +for in some incomprehensible way the Reindeer had sprung a generous +leak. Half the night had been spent in overhauling the ballast and +exploring the seams, but the labor had been without avail. The +water still poured in, and perforce we doubled up in the cockpit +and tossed it out again. + +After coffee, three of the men withdrew to the other boat, a +Columbia River salmon boat, leaving three of us in the Reindeer. +Then the two craft proceeded in company till the sun showed over +the eastern sky-line. Its fiery rays dispelled the clinging +vapors, and there, before our eyes, like a picture, lay the shrimp +fleet, spread out in a great half-moon, the tips of the crescent +fully three miles apart, and each junk moored fast to the buoy of a +shrimp-net. But there was no stir, no sign of life. + +The situation dawned upon us. While waiting for slack water, in +which to lift their heavy nets from the bed of the bay, the Chinese +had all gone to sleep below. We were elated, and our plan of +battle was swiftly formed. + +"Throw each of your two men on to a junk," whispered Le Grant to me +from the salmon boat. "And you make fast to a third yourself. +We'll do the same, and there's no reason in the world why we +shouldn't capture six junks at the least." + +Then we separated. I put the Reindeer about on the other tack, ran +up under the lee of a junk, shivered the mainsail into the wind and +lost headway, and forged past the stern of the junk so slowly and +so near that one of the patrolmen stepped lightly aboard. Then I +kept off, filled the mainsail, and bore away for a second junk. + +Up to this time there had been no noise, but from the first junk +captured by the salmon boat an uproar now broke forth. There was +shrill Oriental yelling, a pistol shot, and more yelling. + +"It's all up. They're warning the others," said George, the +remaining patrolman, as he stood beside me in the cockpit. + +By this time we were in the thick of the fleet, and the alarm was +spreading with incredible swiftness. The decks were beginning to +swarm with half-awakened and half-naked Chinese. Cries and yells +of warning and anger were flying over the quiet water, and +somewhere a conch shell was being blown with great success. To the +right of us I saw the captain of a junk chop away his mooring line +with an axe and spring to help his crew at the hoisting of the +huge, outlandish lug-sail. But to the left the first heads were +popping up from below on another junk, and I rounded up the +Reindeer alongside long enough for George to spring aboard. + +The whole fleet was now under way. In addition to the sails they +had gotten out long sweeps, and the bay was being ploughed in every +direction by the fleeing junks. I was now alone in the Reindeer, +seeking feverishly to capture a third prize. The first junk I took +after was a clean miss, for it trimmed its sheets and shot away +surprisingly into the wind. By fully half a point it outpointed +the Reindeer, and I began to feel respect for the clumsy craft. +Realizing the hopelessness of the pursuit, I filled away, threw out +the main-sheet, and drove down before the wind upon the junks to +leeward, where I had them at a disadvantage. + +The one I had selected wavered indecisively before me, and, as I +swung wide to make the boarding gentle, filled suddenly and darted +away, the smart Mongols shouting a wild rhythm as they bent to the +sweeps. But I had been ready for this. I luffed suddenly. +Putting the tiller hard down, and holding it down with my body, I +brought the main-sheet in, hand over hand, on the run, so as to +retain all possible striking force. The two starboard sweeps of +the junk were crumpled up, and then the two boats came together +with a crash. The Reindeer's bowsprit, like a monstrous hand, +reached over and ripped out the junk's chunky mast and towering +sail. + +This was met by a curdling yell of rage. A big Chinaman, +remarkably evil-looking, with his head swathed in a yellow silk +handkerchief and face badly pock-marked, planted a pike-pole on the +Reindeer's bow and began to shove the entangled boats apart. +Pausing long enough to let go the jib halyards, and just as the +Reindeer cleared and began to drift astern, I leaped aboard the +junk with a line and made fast. He of the yellow handkerchief and +pock-marked face came toward me threateningly, but I put my hand +into my hip pocket, and he hesitated. I was unarmed, but the +Chinese have learned to be fastidiously careful of American hip +pockets, and it was upon this that I depended to keep him and his +savage crew at a distance. + +I ordered him to drop the anchor at the junk's bow, to which he +replied, "No sabbe." The crew responded in like fashion, and +though I made my meaning plain by signs, they refused to +understand. Realizing the inexpediency of discussing the matter, I +went forward myself, overran the line, and let the anchor go. + +"Now get aboard, four of you," I said in a loud voice, indicating +with my fingers that four of them were to go with me and the fifth +was to remain by the junk. The Yellow Handkerchief hesitated; but +I repeated the order fiercely (much more fiercely than I felt), at +the same time sending my hand to my hip. Again the Yellow +Handkerchief was overawed, and with surly looks he led three of his +men aboard the Reindeer. I cast off at once, and, leaving the jib +down, steered a course for George's junk. Here it was easier, for +there were two of us, and George had a pistol to fall back on if it +came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, four Chinese were +transferred to the sloop and one left behind to take care of +things. + +Four more were added to our passenger list from the third junk. By +this time the salmon boat had collected its twelve prisoners and +came alongside, badly overloaded. To make matters worse, as it was +a small boat, the patrolmen were so jammed in with their prisoners +that they would have little chance in case of trouble. + +"You'll have to help us out," said Le Grant. + +I looked over my prisoners, who had crowded into the cabin and on +top of it. "I can take three," I answered. + +"Make it four," he suggested, "and I'll take Bill with me." (Bill +was the third patrolman.) "We haven't elbow room here, and in case +of a scuffle one white to every two of them will be just about the +right proportion." + +The exchange was made, and the salmon boat got up its spritsail and +headed down the bay toward the marshes off San Rafael. I ran up +the jib and followed with the Reindeer. San Rafael, where we were +to turn our catch over to the authorities, communicated with the +bay by way of a long and tortuous slough, or marshland creek, which +could be navigated only when the tide was in. Slack water had +come, and, as the ebb was commencing, there was need for hurry if +we cared to escape waiting half a day for the next tide. + +But the land breeze had begun to die away with the rising sun, and +now came only in failing puffs. The salmon boat got out its oars +and soon left us far astern. Some of the Chinese stood in the +forward part of the cockpit, near the cabin doors, and once, as I +leaned over the cockpit rail to flatten down the jib-sheet a bit, I +felt some one brush against my hip pocket. I made no sign, but out +of the corner of my eye I saw that the Yellow Handkerchief had +discovered the emptiness of the pocket which had hitherto overawed +him. + +To make matters serious, during all the excitement of boarding the +junks the Reindeer had not been bailed, and the water was beginning +to slush over the cockpit floor. The shrimp-catchers pointed at it +and looked to me questioningly. + +"Yes," I said. "Bime by, allee same dlown, velly quick, you no +bail now. Sabbe?" + +No, they did not "sabbe," or at least they shook their heads to +that effect, though they chattered most comprehendingly to one +another in their own lingo. I pulled up three or four of the +bottom boards, got a couple of buckets from a locker, and by +unmistakable sign-language invited them to fall to. But they +laughed, and some crowded into the cabin and some climbed up on +top. + +Their laughter was not good laughter. There was a hint of menace +in it, a maliciousness which their black looks verified. The +Yellow Handkerchief, since his discovery of my empty pocket, had +become most insolent in his bearing, and he wormed about among the +other prisoners, talking to them with great earnestness. + +Swallowing my chagrin, I stepped down into the cockpit and began +throwing out the water. But hardly had I begun, when the boom +swung overhead, the mainsail filled with a jerk, and the Reindeer +heeled over. The day wind was springing up. George was the +veriest of landlubbers, so I was forced to give over bailing and +take the tiller. The wind was blowing directly off Point Pedro and +the high mountains behind, and because of this was squally and +uncertain, half the time bellying the canvas out and the other half +flapping it idly. + +George was about the most all-round helpless man I had ever met. +Among his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, and I knew that +if he attempted to bail, it might bring on a hemorrhage. Yet the +rising water warned me that something must be done. Again I +ordered the shrimp-catchers to lend a hand with the buckets. They +laughed defiantly, and those inside the cabin, the water up to +their ankles, shouted back and forth with those on top. + +"You'd better get out your gun and make them bail," I said to +George. + +But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was +afraid. The Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as I +could, and their insolence became insufferable. Those in the cabin +broke into the food lockers, and those above scrambled down and +joined them in a feast on our crackers and canned goods. + +"What do we care?" George said weakly. + +I was fuming with helpless anger. "If they get out of hand, it +will be too late to care. The best thing you can do is to get them +in check right now." + +The water was rising higher and higher, and the gusts, forerunners +of a steady breeze, were growing stiffer and stiffer. And between +the gusts, the prisoners, having gotten away with a week's grub, +took to crowding first to one side and then to the other till the +Reindeer rocked like a cockle-shell. Yellow Handkerchief +approached me, and, pointing out his village on the Point Pedro +beach, gave me to understand that if I turned the Reindeer in that +direction and put them ashore, they, in turn, would go to bailing. +By now the water in the cabin was up to the bunks, and the bed- +clothes were sopping. It was a foot deep on the cockpit floor. +Nevertheless I refused, and I could see by George's face that he +was disappointed. + +"If you don't show some nerve, they'll rush us and throw us +overboard," I said to him. "Better give me your revolver, if you +want to be safe." + +"The safest thing to do," he chattered cravenly, "is to put them +ashore. I, for one, don't want to be drowned for the sake of a +handful of dirty Chinamen." + +"And I, for another, don't care to give in to a handful of dirty +Chinamen to escape drowning," I answered hotly. + +"You'll sink the Reindeer under us all at this rate," he whined. +"And what good that'll do I can't see." + +"Every man to his taste," I retorted. + +He made no reply, but I could see he was trembling pitifully. +Between the threatening Chinese and the rising water he was beside +himself with fright; and, more than the Chinese and the water, I +feared him and what his fright might impel him to do. I could see +him casting longing glances at the small skiff towing astern, so in +the next calm I hauled the skiff alongside. As I did so his eyes +brightened with hope; but before he could guess my intention, I +stove the frail bottom through with a hand-axe, and the skiff +filled to its gunwales. + +"It's sink or float together," I said. "And if you'll give me your +revolver, I'll have the Reindeer bailed out in a jiffy." + +"They're too many for us," he whimpered. "We can't fight them +all." + +I turned my back on him in disgust. The salmon boat had long since +passed from sight behind a little archipelago known as the Marin +Islands, so no help could be looked for from that quarter. Yellow +Handkerchief came up to me in a familiar manner, the water in the +cockpit slushing against his legs. I did not like his looks. I +felt that beneath the pleasant smile he was trying to put on his +face there was an ill purpose. I ordered him back, and so sharply +that he obeyed. + +"Now keep your distance," I commanded, "and don't you come closer!" + +"Wha' fo'?" he demanded indignantly. "I t'ink-um talkee talkee +heap good." + +"Talkee talkee," I answered bitterly, for I knew now that he had +understood all that passed between George and me. "What for talkee +talkee? You no sabbe talkee talkee." + +He grinned in a sickly fashion. "Yep, I sabbe velly much. I +honest Chinaman." + +"All right," I answered. "You sabbe talkee talkee, then you bail +water plenty plenty. After that we talkee talkee." + +He shook his head, at the same time pointing over his shoulder to +his comrades. "No can do. Velly bad Chinamen, heap velly bad. I +t'ink-um--" + +"Stand back!" I shouted, for I had noticed his hand disappear +beneath his blouse and his body prepare for a spring. + +Disconcerted, he went back into the cabin, to hold a council, +apparently, from the way the jabbering broke forth. The Reindeer +was very deep in the water, and her movements had grown quite +loggy. In a rough sea she would have inevitably swamped; but the +wind, when it did blow, was off the land, and scarcely a ripple +disturbed the surface of the bay. + +"I think you'd better head for the beach," George said abruptly, in +a manner that told me his fear had forced him to make up his mind +to some course of action. + +"I think not," I answered shortly. + +"I command you," he said in a bullying tone. + +"I was commanded to bring these prisoners into San Rafael," was my +reply. + +Our voices were raised, and the sound of the altercation brought +the Chinese out of the cabin. + +"Now will you head for the beach?" + +This from George, and I found myself looking into the muzzle of his +revolver--of the revolver he dared to use on me, but was too +cowardly to use on the prisoners. + +My brain seemed smitten with a dazzling brightness. The whole +situation, in all its bearings, was focussed sharply before me--the +shame of losing the prisoners, the worthlessness and cowardice of +George, the meeting with Le Grant and the other patrol men and the +lame explanation; and then there was the fight I had fought so +hard, victory wrenched from me just as I thought I had it within my +grasp. And out of the tail of my eye I could see the Chinese +crowding together by the cabin doors and leering triumphantly. It +would never do. + +I threw my hand up and my head down. The first act elevated the +muzzle, and the second removed my head from the path of the bullet +which went whistling past. One hand closed on George's wrist, the +other on the revolver. Yellow Handkerchief and his gang sprang +toward me. It was now or never. Putting all my strength into a +sudden effort, I swung George's body forward to meet them. Then I +pulled back with equal suddenness, ripping the revolver out of his +fingers and jerking him off his feet. He fell against Yellow +Handkerchief's knees, who stumbled over him, and the pair wallowed +in the bailing hole where the cockpit floor was torn open. The +next instant I was covering them with my revolver, and the wild +shrimp-catchers were cowering and cringing away. + +But I swiftly discovered that there was all the difference in the +world between shooting men who are attacking and men who are doing +nothing more than simply refusing to obey. For obey they would not +when I ordered them into the bailing hole. I threatened them with +the revolver, but they sat stolidly in the flooded cabin and on the +roof and would not move. + +Fifteen minutes passed, the Reindeer sinking deeper and deeper, her +mainsail flapping in the calm. But from off the Point Pedro shore +I saw a dark line form on the water and travel toward us. It was +the steady breeze I had been expecting so long. I called to the +Chinese and pointed it out. They hailed it with exclamations. +Then I pointed to the sail and to the water in the Reindeer, and +indicated by signs that when the wind reached the sail, what of the +water aboard we would capsize. But they jeered defiantly, for they +knew it was in my power to luff the helm and let go the main-sheet, +so as to spill the wind and escape damage. + +But my mind was made up. I hauled in the main-sheet a foot or two, +took a turn with it, and bracing my feet, put my back against the +tiller. This left me one hand for the sheet and one for the +revolver. The dark line drew nearer, and I could see them looking +from me to it and back again with an apprehension they could not +successfully conceal. My brain and will and endurance were pitted +against theirs, and the problem was which could stand the strain of +imminent death the longer and not give in. + +Then the wind struck us. The main-sheet tautened with a brisk +rattling of the blocks, the boom uplifted, the sail bellied out, +and the Reindeer heeled over--over, and over, till the lee-rail +went under, the cabin windows went under, and the bay began to pour +in over the cockpit rail. So violently had she heeled over, that +the men in the cabin had been thrown on top of one another into the +lee bunk, where they squirmed and twisted and were washed about, +those underneath being perilously near to drowning. + +The wind freshened a bit, and the Reindeer went over farther than +ever. For the moment I thought she was gone, and I knew that +another puff like that and she surely would go. While I pressed +her under and debated whether I should give up or not, the Chinese +cried for mercy. I think it was the sweetest sound I have ever +heard. And then, and not until then, did I luff up and ease out +the main-sheet. The Reindeer righted very slowly, and when she was +on an even keel was so much awash that I doubted if she could be +saved. + +But the Chinese scrambled madly into the cockpit and fell to +bailing with buckets, pots, pans, and everything they could lay +hands on. It was a beautiful sight to see that water flying over +the side! And when the Reindeer was high and proud on the water +once more, we dashed away with the breeze on our quarter, and at +the last possible moment crossed the mud flats and entered the +slough. + +The spirit of the Chinese was broken, and so docile did they become +that ere we made San Rafael they were out with the tow-rope, Yellow +Handkerchief at the head of the line. As for George, it was his +last trip with the fish patrol. He did not care for that sort of +thing, he explained, and he thought a clerkship ashore was good +enough for him. And we thought so too. + + + +THE KING OF THE GREEKS + + + +Big Alec had never been captured by the fish patrol. It was his +boast that no man could take him alive, and it was his history that +of the many men who had tried to take him dead none had succeeded. +It was also history that at least two patrolmen who had tried to +take him dead had died themselves. Further, no man violated the +fish laws more systematically and deliberately than Big Alec. + +He was called "Big Alec" because of his gigantic stature. His +height was six feet three inches, and he was correspondingly broad- +shouldered and deep-chested. He was splendidly muscled and hard as +steel, and there were innumerable stories in circulation among the +fisher-folk concerning his prodigious strength. He was as bold and +dominant of spirit as he was strong of body, and because of this he +was widely known by another name, that of "The King of the Greeks." +The fishing population was largely composed of Greeks, and they +looked up to him and obeyed him as their chief. And as their +chief, he fought their fights for them, saw that they were +protected, saved them from the law when they fell into its +clutches, and made them stand by one another and himself in time of +trouble. + +In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture many +disastrous times and had finally given it over, so that when the +word was out that he was coming to Benicia, I was most anxious to +see him. But I did not have to hunt him up. In his usual bold +way, the first thing he did on arriving was to hunt us up. Charley +Le Grant and I at the time were under a patrol-man named Carmintel, +and the three of us were on the Reindeer, preparing for a trip, +when Big Alec stepped aboard. Carmintel evidently knew him, for +they shook hands in recognition. Big Alec took no notice of +Charley or me. + +"I've come down to fish sturgeon a couple of months," he said to +Carmintel. + +His eyes flashed with challenge as he spoke, and we noticed the +patrolman's eyes drop before him. + +"That's all right, Alec," Carmintel said in a low voice. "I'll not +bother you. Come on into the cabin, and we'll talk things over," +he added. + +When they had gone inside and shut the doors after them, Charley +winked with slow deliberation at me. But I was only a youngster, +and new to men and the ways of some men, so I did not understand. +Nor did Charley explain, though I felt there was something wrong +about the business. + +Leaving them to their conference, at Charley's suggestion we +boarded our skiff and pulled over to the Old Steamboat Wharf, where +Big Alec's ark was lying. An ark is a house-boat of small though +comfortable dimensions, and is as necessary to the Upper Bay +fisherman as are nets and boats. We were both curious to see Big +Alec's ark, for history said that it had been the scene of more +than one pitched battle, and that it was riddled with bullet-holes. + +We found the holes (stopped with wooden plugs and painted over), +but there were not so many as I had expected. Charley noted my +look of disappointment, and laughed; and then to comfort me he gave +an authentic account of one expedition which had descended upon Big +Alec's floating home to capture him, alive preferably, dead if +necessary. At the end of half a day's fighting, the patrolmen had +drawn off in wrecked boats, with one of their number killed and +three wounded. And when they returned next morning with +reinforcements they found only the mooring-stakes of Big Alec's +ark; the ark itself remained hidden for months in the fastnesses of +the Suisun tules. + +"But why was he not hanged for murder?" I demanded. "Surely the +United States is powerful enough to bring such a man to justice." + +"He gave himself up and stood trial," Charley answered. "It cost +him fifty thousand dollars to win the case, which he did on +technicalities and with the aid of the best lawyers in the state. +Every Greek fisherman on the river contributed to the sum. Big +Alec levied and collected the tax, for all the world like a king. +The United States may be all-powerful, my lad, but the fact remains +that Big Alec is a king inside the United States, with a country +and subjects all his own." + +"But what are you going to do about his fishing for sturgeon? He's +bound to fish with a 'Chinese line.'" + +Charley shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see what we will see," he +said enigmatically. + +Now a "Chinese line" is a cunning device invented by the people +whose name it bears. By a simple system of floats, weights, and +anchors, thousands of hooks, each on a separate leader, are +suspended at a distance of from six inches to a foot above the +bottom. The remarkable thing about such a line is the hook. It is +barbless, and in place of the barb, the hook is filed long and +tapering to a point as sharp as that of a needle. These hoods are +only a few inches apart, and when several thousand of them are +suspended just above the bottom, like a fringe, for a couple of +hundred fathoms, they present a formidable obstacle to the fish +that travel along the bottom. + +Such a fish is the sturgeon, which goes rooting along like a pig, +and indeed is often called "pig-fish." Pricked by the first hook +it touches, the sturgeon gives a startled leap and comes into +contact with half a dozen more hooks. Then it threshes about +wildly, until it receives hook after hook in its soft flesh; and +the hooks, straining from many different angles, hold the luckless +fish fast until it is drowned. Because no sturgeon can pass +through a Chinese line, the device is called a trap in the fish +laws; and because it bids fair to exterminate the sturgeon, it is +branded by the fish laws as illegal. And such a line, we were +confident, Big Alec intended setting, in open and flagrant +violation of the law. + +Several days passed after the visit of Big Alec, during which +Charley and I kept a sharp watch on him. He towed his ark around +the Solano Wharf and into the big bight at Turner's Shipyard. The +bight we knew to be good ground for sturgeon, and there we felt +sure the King of the Greeks intended to begin operations. The tide +circled like a mill-race in and out of this bight, and made it +possible to raise, lower, or set a Chinese line only at slack +water. So between the tides Charley and I made it a point for one +or the other of us to keep a lookout from the Solano Wharf. + +On the fourth day I was lying in the sun behind the stringer-piece +of the wharf, when I saw a skiff leave the distant shore and pull +out into the bight. In an instant the glasses were at my eyes and +I was following every movement of the skiff. There were two men in +it, and though it was a good mile away, I made out one of them to +be Big Alec; and ere the skiff returned to shore I made out enough +more to know that the Greek had set his line. + +"Big Alec has a Chinese line out in the bight off Turner's +Shipyard," Charley Le Grant said that afternoon to Carmintel. + +A fleeting expression of annoyance passed over the patrolman's +face, and then he said, "Yes?" in an absent way, and that was all. + +Charley bit his lip with suppressed anger and turned on his heel. + +"Are you game, my lad?" he said to me later on in the evening, just +as we finished washing down the Reindeer's decks and were preparing +to turn in. + +A lump came up in my throat, and I could only nod my head. + +"Well, then," and Charley's eyes glittered in a determined way, +"we've got to capture Big Alec between us, you and I, and we've got +to do it in spite of Carmintel. Will you lend a hand?" + +"It's a hard proposition, but we can do it," he added after a +pause. + +"Of course we can," I supplemented enthusiastically. + +And then he said, "Of course we can," and we shook hands on it and +went to bed. + +But it was no easy task we had set ourselves. In order to convict +a man of illegal fishing, it was necessary to catch him in the act +with all the evidence of the crime about him--the hooks, the lines, +the fish, and the man himself. This meant that we must take Big +Alec on the open water, where he could see us coming and prepare +for us one of the warm receptions for which he was noted. + +"There's no getting around it," Charley said one morning. "If we +can only get alongside it's an even toss, and there's nothing left +for us but to try and get alongside. Come on, lad." + +We were in the Columbia River salmon boat, the one we had used +against the Chinese shrimp-catchers. Slack water had come, and as +we dropped around the end of the Solano Wharf we saw Big Alec at +work, running his line and removing the fish. + +"Change places," Charley commanded, "and steer just astern of him +as though you're going into the shipyard." + +I took the tiller, and Charley sat down on a thwart amidships, +placing his revolver handily beside him. + +"If he begins to shoot," he cautioned, "get down in the bottom and +steer from there, so that nothing more than your hand will be +exposed." + +I nodded, and we kept silent after that, the boat slipping gently +through the water and Big Alec growing nearer and nearer. We could +see him quite plainly, gaffing the sturgeon and throwing them into +the boat while his companion ran the line and cleared the hooks as +he dropped them back into the water. Nevertheless, we were five +hundred yards away when the big fisherman hailed us. + +"Here! You! What do you want?" he shouted. + +"Keep going," Charley whispered, "just as though you didn't hear +him." + +The next few moments were very anxious ones. The fisherman was +studying us sharply, while we were gliding up on him every second. + +"You keep off if you know what's good for you!" he called out +suddenly, as though he had made up his mind as to who and what we +were. "If you don't, I'll fix you!" + +He brought a rifle to his shoulder and trained it on me. + +"Now will you keep off?" he demanded. + +I could hear Charley groan with disappointment. "Keep off," he +whispered; "it's all up for this time." + +I put up the tiller and eased the sheet, and the salmon boat ran +off five or six points. Big Alec watched us till we were out of +range, when he returned to his work. + +"You'd better leave Big Alec alone," Carmintel said, rather sourly, +to Charley that night. + +"So he's been complaining to you, has he?" Charley said +significantly. + +Carmintel flushed painfully. "You'd better leave him alone, I tell +you," he repeated. "He's a dangerous man, and it won't pay to fool +with him." + +"Yes," Charley answered softly; "I've heard that it pays better to +leave him alone." + +This was a direct thrust at Carmintel, and we could see by the +expression of his face that it sank home. For it was common +knowledge that Big Alec was as willing to bribe as to fight, and +that of late years more than one patrolman had handled the +fisherman's money. + +"Do you mean to say--" Carmintel began, in a bullying tone. + +But Charley cut him off shortly. "I mean to say nothing," he said. +"You heard what I said, and if the cap fits, why--" + +He shrugged his shoulders, and Carmintel glowered at him, +speechless. + +"What we want is imagination," Charley said to me one day, when we +had attempted to creep upon Big Alec in the gray of dawn and had +been shot at for our trouble. + +And thereafter, and for many days, I cudgelled my brains trying to +imagine some possible way by which two men, on an open stretch of +water, could capture another who knew how to use a rifle and was +never to be found without one. Regularly, every slack water, +without slyness, boldly and openly in the broad day, Big Alec was +to be seen running his line. And what made it particularly +exasperating was the fact that every fisherman, from Benicia to +Vallejo knew that he was successfully defying us. Carmintel also +bothered us, for he kept us busy among the shad-fishers of San +Pablo, so that we had little time to spare on the King of the +Greeks. But Charley's wife and children lived at Benicia, and we +had made the place our headquarters, so that we always returned to +it. + +"I'll tell you what we can do," I said, after several fruitless +weeks had passed; "we can wait some slack water till Big Alec has +run his line and gone ashore with the fish, and then we can go out +and capture the line. It will put him to time and expense to make +another, and then we'll figure to capture that too. If we can't +capture him, we can discourage him, you see." + +Charley saw, and said it wasn't a bad idea. We watched our chance, +and the next low-water slack, after Big Alec had removed the fish +from the line and returned ashore, we went out in the salmon boat. +We had the bearings of the line from shore marks, and we knew we +would have no difficulty in locating it. The first of the flood +tide was setting in, when we ran below where we thought the line +was stretched and dropped over a fishing-boat anchor. Keeping a +short rope to the anchor, so that it barely touched the bottom, we +dragged it slowly along until it stuck and the boat fetched up hard +and fast. + +"We've got it," Charley cried. "Come on and lend a hand to get it +in." + +Together we hove up the rope till the anchor I came in sight with +the sturgeon line caught across one of the flukes. Scores of the +murderous-looking hooks flashed into sight as we cleared the +anchor, and we had just started to run along the line to the end +where we could begin to lift it, when a sharp thud in the boat +startled us. We looked about, but saw nothing and returned to our +work. An instant later there was a similar sharp thud and the +gunwale splintered between Charley's body and mine. + +"That's remarkably like a bullet, lad," he said reflectively. "And +it's a long shot Big Alec's making." + +"And he's using smokeless powder," he concluded, after an +examination of the mile-distant shore. "That's why we can't hear +the report." + +I looked at the shore, but could see no sign of Big Alec, who was +undoubtedly hidden in some rocky nook with us at his mercy. A +third bullet struck the water, glanced, passed singing over our +heads, and struck the water again beyond. + +"I guess we'd better get out of this," Charley remarked coolly. +"What do you think, lad?" + +I thought so, too, and said we didn't want the line anyway. +Whereupon we cast off and hoisted the spritsail. The bullets +ceased at once, and we sailed away, unpleasantly confident that Big +Alec was laughing at our discomfiture. + +And more than that, the next day on the fishing wharf, where we +were inspecting nets, he saw fit to laugh and sneer at us, and this +before all the fishermen. Charley's face went black with anger; +but beyond promising Big Alec that in the end he would surely land +him behind the bars, he controlled himself and said nothing. The +King of the Greeks made his boast that no fish patrol had ever +taken him or ever could take him, and the fishermen cheered him and +said it was true. They grew excited, and it looked like trouble +for a while; but Big Alec asserted his kingship and quelled them. + +Carmintel also laughed at Charley, and dropped sarcastic remarks, +and made it hard for him. But Charley refused to be angered, +though he told me in confidence that he intended to capture Big +Alec if it took all the rest of his life to accomplish it. + +"I don't know how I'll do it," he said, "but do it I will, as sure +as I am Charley Le Grant. The idea will come to me at the right +and proper time, never fear." + +And at the right time it came, and most unexpectedly. Fully a +month had passed, and we were constantly up and down the river, and +down and up the bay, with no spare moments to devote to the +particular fisherman who ran a Chinese line in the bight of +Turner's Shipyard. We had called in at Selby's Smelter one +afternoon, while on patrol work, when all unknown to us our +opportunity happened along. It appeared in the guise of a helpless +yacht loaded with seasick people, so we could hardly be expected to +recognize it as the opportunity. It was a large sloop-yacht, and +it was helpless inasmuch as the trade-wind was blowing half a gale +and there were no capable sailors aboard. + +From the wharf at Selby's we watched with careless interest the +lubberly manoeuvre performed of bringing the yacht to anchor, and +the equally lubberly manoeuvre of sending the small boat ashore. A +very miserable-looking man in draggled ducks, after nearly swamping +the boat in the heavy seas, passed us the painter and climbed out. +He staggered about as though the wharf were rolling, and told us +his troubles, which were the troubles of the yacht. The only +rough-weather sailor aboard, the man on whom they all depended, had +been called back to San Francisco by a telegram, and they had +attempted to continue the cruise alone. The high wind and big seas +of San Pablo Bay had been too much for them; all hands were sick, +nobody knew anything or could do anything; and so they had run in +to the smelter either to desert the yacht or to get somebody to +bring it to Benicia. In short, did we know of any sailors who +would bring the yacht into Benicia? + +Charley looked at me. The Reindeer was lying in a snug place. We +had nothing on hand in the way of patrol work till midnight. With +the wind then blowing, we could sail the yacht into Benicia in a +couple of hours, have several more hours ashore, and come back to +the smelter on the evening train. + +"All right, captain," Charley said to the disconsolate yachtsman, +who smiled in sickly fashion at the title. + +"I'm only the owner," he explained. + +We rowed him aboard in much better style than he had come ashore, +and saw for ourselves the helplessness of the passengers. There +were a dozen men and women, and all of them too sick even to appear +grateful at our coming. The yacht was rolling savagely, broad on, +and no sooner had the owner's feet touched the deck than he +collapsed and joined, the others. Not one was able to bear a hand, +so Charley and I between us cleared the badly tangled running gear, +got up sail, and hoisted anchor. + +It was a rough trip, though a swift one. The Carquinez Straits +were a welter of foam and smother, and we came through them wildly +before the wind, the big mainsail alternately dipping and flinging +its boom skyward as we tore along. But the people did not mind. +They did not mind anything. Two or three, including the owner, +sprawled in the cockpit, shuddering when the yacht lifted and raced +and sank dizzily into the trough, and between-whiles regarding the +shore with yearning eyes. The rest were huddled on the cabin floor +among the cushions. Now and again some one groaned, but for the +most part they were as limp as so many dead persons. + +As the bight at Turner's Shipyard opened out, Charley edged into it +to get the smoother water. Benicia was in view, and we were +bowling along over comparatively easy water, when a speck of a boat +danced up ahead of us, directly in our course. It was low-water +slack. Charley and I looked at each other. No word was spoken, +but at once the yacht began a most astonishing performance, veering +and yawing as though the greenest of amateurs was at the wheel. It +was a sight for sailormen to see. To all appearances, a runaway +yacht was careering madly over the bight, and now and again +yielding a little bit to control in a desperate effort to make +Benicia. + +The owner forgot his seasickness long enough to look anxious. The +speck of a boat grew larger and larger, till we could see Big Alec +and his partner, with a turn of the sturgeon line around a cleat, +resting from their labor to laugh at us. Charley pulled his +sou'wester over his eyes, and I followed his example, though I +could not guess the idea he evidently had in mind and intended to +carry into execution. + +We came foaming down abreast of the skiff, so close that we could +hear above the wind the voices of Big Alec and his mate as they +shouted at us with all the scorn that professional watermen feel +for amateurs, especially when amateurs are making fools of +themselves. + +We thundered on past the fishermen, and nothing had happened. +Charley grinned at the disappointment he saw in my face, and then +shouted: + +"Stand by the main-sheet to jibe!" + +He put the wheel hard over, and the yacht whirled around +obediently. The main-sheet slacked and dipped, then shot over our +heads after the boom and tautened with a crash on the traveller. +The yacht heeled over almost on her beam ends, and a great wail +went up from the seasick passengers as they swept across the cabin +floor in a tangled mass and piled into a heap in the starboard +bunks. + +But we had no time for them. The yacht, completing the manoeuvre, +headed into the wind with slatting canvas, and righted to an even +keel. We were still plunging ahead, and directly in our path was +the skiff. I saw Big Alec dive overboard and his mate leap for our +bowsprit. Then came the crash as we struck the boat, and a series +of grinding bumps as it passed under our bottom. + +"That fixes his rifle," I heard Charley mutter, as he sprang upon +the deck to look for Big Alec somewhere astern. + +The wind and sea quickly stopped our forward movement, and we began +to drift backward over the spot where the skiff had been. Big +Alec's black head and swarthy face popped up within arm's reach; +and all unsuspecting and very angry with what he took to be the +clumsiness of amateur sailors, he was hauled aboard. Also he was +out of breath, for he had dived deep and stayed down long to escape +our keel. + +The next instant, to the perplexity and consternation of the owner, +Charley was on top of Big Alec in the cockpit, and I was helping +bind him with gaskets. The owner was dancing excitedly about and +demanding an explanation, but by that time Big Alec's partner had +crawled aft from the bowsprit and was peering apprehensively over +the rail into the cockpit. Charley's arm shot around his neck and +the man landed on his back beside Big Alec. + +"More gaskets!" Charley shouted, and I made haste to supply them. + +The wrecked skiff was rolling sluggishly a short distance to +windward, and I trimmed the sheets while Charley took the wheel and +steered for it. + +"These two men are old offenders," he explained to the angry owner; +"and they are most persistent violators of the fish and game laws. +You have seen them caught in the act, and you may expect to be +subpoenaed as witness for the state when the trial comes off." + +As he spoke he rounded alongside the skiff. It had been torn from +the line, a section of which was dragging to it. He hauled in +forty or fifty feet with a young sturgeon still fast in a tangle of +barbless hooks, slashed that much of the line free with his knife, +and tossed it into the cockpit beside the prisoners. + +"And there's the evidence, Exhibit A, for the people," Charley +continued. "Look it over carefully so that you may identify it in +the court-room with the time and place of capture." + +And then, in triumph, with no more veering and yawing, we sailed +into Benicia, the King of the Greeks bound hard and fast in the +cockpit, and for the first time in his life a prisoner of the fish +patrol. + + + +A RAID ON THE OYSTER PIRATES + + + +Of the fish patrolmen under whom we served at various times, +Charley Le Grant and I were agreed, I think, that Neil Partington +was the best. He was neither dishonest nor cowardly; and while he +demanded strict obedience when we were under his orders, at the +same time our relations were those of easy comradeship, and he +permitted us a freedom to which we were ordinarily unaccustomed, as +the present story will show. + +Neil's family lived in Oakland, which is on the Lower Bay, not more +than six miles across the water from San Francisco. One day, while +scouting among the Chinese shrimp-catchers of Point Pedro, he +received word that his wife was very ill; and within the hour the +Reindeer was bowling along for Oakland, with a stiff northwest +breeze astern. We ran up the Oakland Estuary and came to anchor, +and in the days that followed, while Neil was ashore, we tightened +up the Reindeer's rigging, overhauled the ballast, scraped down, +and put the sloop into thorough shape. + +This done, time hung heavy on our hands. Neil's wife was +dangerously ill, and the outlook was a week's lie-over, awaiting +the crisis. Charley and I roamed the docks, wondering what we +should do, and so came upon the oyster fleet lying at the Oakland +City Wharf. In the main they were trim, natty boats, made for +speed and bad weather, and we sat down on the stringer-piece of the +dock to study them. + +"A good catch, I guess," Charley said, pointing to the heaps of +oysters, assorted in three sizes, which lay upon their decks. + +Pedlers were backing their wagons to the edge of the wharf, and +from the bargaining and chaffering that went on, I managed to learn +the selling price of the oysters. + +"That boat must have at least two hundred dollars' worth aboard," I +calculated. "I wonder how long it took to get the load?" + +"Three or four days," Charley answered. "Not bad wages for two +men--twenty-five dollars a day apiece." + +The boat we were discussing, the Ghost, lay directly beneath us. +Two men composed its crew. One was a squat, broad-shouldered +fellow with remarkably long and gorilla-like arms, while the other +was tall and well proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat of +straight black hair. So unusual and striking was this combination +of hair and eyes that Charley and I remained somewhat longer than +we intended. + +And it was well that we did. A stout, elderly man, with the dress +and carriage of a successful merchant, came up and stood beside us, +looking down upon the deck of the Ghost. He appeared angry, and +the longer he looked the angrier he grew. + +"Those are my oysters," he said at last. "I know they are my +oysters. You raided my beds last night and robbed me of them." + +The tall man and the short man on the Ghost looked up. + +"Hello, Taft," the short man said, with insolent familiarity. +(Among the bayfarers he had gained the nickname of "The Centipede" +on account of his long arms.) "Hello, Taft," he repeated, with the +same touch of insolence. "Wot 'r you growling about now?" + +"Those are my oysters--that's what I said. You've stolen them from +my beds." + +"Yer mighty wise, ain't ye?" was the Centipede's sneering reply. +"S'pose you can tell your oysters wherever you see 'em?" + +"Now, in my experience," broke in the tall man, "oysters is oysters +wherever you find 'em, an' they're pretty much alike all the Bay +over, and the world over, too, for that matter. We're not wantin' +to quarrel with you, Mr. Taft, but we jes' wish you wouldn't +insinuate that them oysters is yours an' that we're thieves an' +robbers till you can prove the goods." + +"I know they're mine; I'd stake my life on it!" Mr. Taft snorted. + +"Prove it," challenged the tall man, who we afterward learned was +known as "The Porpoise" because of his wonderful swimming +abilities. + +Mr. Taft shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Of course he could not +prove the oysters to be his, no matter how certain he might be. + +"I'd give a thousand dollars to have you men behind the bars!" he +cried. "I'll give fifty dollars a head for your arrest and +conviction, all of you!" + +A roar of laughter went up from the different boats, for the rest +of the pirates had been listening to the discussion. + +"There's more money in oysters," the Porpoise remarked dryly. + +Mr. Taft turned impatiently on his heel and walked away. From out +of the corner of his eye, Charley noted the way he went. Several +minutes later, when he had disappeared around a corner, Charley +rose lazily to his feet. I followed him, and we sauntered off in +the opposite direction to that taken by Mr. Taft. + +"Come on! Lively!" Charley whispered, when we passed from the view +of the oyster fleet. + +Our course was changed at once, and we dodged around corners and +raced up and down side-streets till Mr. Taft's generous form loomed +up ahead of us. + +"I'm going to interview him about that reward," Charley explained, +as we rapidly over-hauled the oyster-bed owner. "Neil will be +delayed here for a week, and you and I might as well be doing +something in the meantime. What do you say?" + +"Of course, of course," Mr. Taft said, when Charley had introduced +himself and explained his errand. "Those thieves are robbing me of +thousands of dollars every year, and I shall be glad to break them +up at any price,--yes, sir, at any price. As I said, I'll give +fifty dollars a head, and call it cheap at that. They've robbed my +beds, torn down my signs, terrorized my watchmen, and last year +killed one of them. Couldn't prove it. All done in the blackness +of night. All I had was a dead watchman and no evidence. The +detectives could do nothing. Nobody has been able to do anything +with those men. We have never succeeded in arresting one of them. +So I say, Mr.--What did you say your name was?" + +"Le Grant," Charley answered. + +"So I say, Mr. Le Grant, I am deeply obliged to you for the +assistance you offer. And I shall be glad, most glad, sir, to co- +operate with you in every way. My watchmen and boats are at your +disposal. Come and see me at the San Francisco offices any time, +or telephone at my expense. And don't be afraid of spending money. +I'll foot your expenses, whatever they are, so long as they are +within reason. The situation is growing desperate, and something +must be done to determine whether I or that band of ruffians own +those oyster beds." + +"Now we'll see Neil," Charley said, when he had seen Mr. Taft upon +his train to San Francisco. + +Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to our +adventure, but he proved to be of the greatest assistance. Charley +and I knew nothing of the oyster industry, while his head was an +encyclopaedia of facts concerning it. Also, within an hour or so, +he was able to bring to us a Greek boy of seventeen or eighteen who +knew thoroughly well the ins and outs of oyster piracy. + +At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol were +free lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a patrolman +proper, received a regular salary, Charley and I, being merely +deputies, received only what we earned--that is to say, a certain +percentage of the fines imposed on convicted violators of the fish +laws. Also, any rewards that chanced our way were ours. We +offered to share with Partington whatever we should get from Mr. +Taft, but the patrolman would not hear of it. He was only too +happy, he said, to do a good turn for us, who had done so many for +him. + +We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following line of +action. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, but as the +Reindeer was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, the Greek boy, +whose name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some innocent-looking +craft down to Asparagus Island and join the oyster pirates' fleet. +Here, according to Nicholas's description of the beds and the +manner of raiding, it was possible for us to catch the pirates in +the act of stealing oysters, and at the same time to get them in +our power. Charley was to be on the shore, with Mr. Taft's +watchmen and a posse of constables, to help us at the right time. + +"I know just the boat," Neil said, at the conclusion of the +discussion, "a crazy old sloop that's lying over at Tiburon. You +and Nicholas can go over by the ferry, charter it for a song, and +sail direct for the beds." + +"Good luck be with you, boys," he said at parting, two days later. +"Remember, they are dangerous men, so be careful." + +Nicholas and I succeeded in chartering the sloop very cheaply; and +between laughs, while getting up sail, we agreed that she was even +crazier and older than she had been described. She was a big, +flat-bottomed, square-sterned craft, sloop-rigged, with a sprung +mast, slack rigging, dilapidated sails, and rotten running-gear, +clumsy to handle and uncertain in bringing about, and she smelled +vilely of coal tar, with which strange stuff she had been smeared +from stem to stern and from cabin-roof to centreboard. And to cap +it all, Coal Tar Maggie was printed in great white letters the +whole length of either side. + +It was an uneventful though laughable run from Tiburon to Asparagus +Island, where we arrived in the afternoon of the following day. +The oyster pirates, a fleet of a dozen sloops, were lying at anchor +on what was known as the "Deserted Beds." The Coal Tar Maggie came +sloshing into their midst with a light breeze astern, and they +crowded on deck to see us. Nicholas and I had caught the spirit of +the crazy craft, and we handled her in most lubberly fashion. + +"Wot is it?" some one called. + +"Name it 'n' ye kin have it!" called another. + +"I swan naow, ef it ain't the old Ark itself!" mimicked the +Centipede from the deck of the Ghost. + +"Hey! Ahoy there, clipper ship!" another wag shouted. "Wot's yer +port?" + +We took no notice of the joking, but acted, after the manner of +greenhorns, as though the Coal Tar Maggie required our undivided +attention. I rounded her well to windward of the Ghost, and +Nicholas ran for'ard to drop the anchor. To all appearances it was +a bungle, the way the chain tangled and kept the anchor from +reaching the bottom. And to all appearances Nicholas and I were +terribly excited as we strove to clear it. At any rate, we quite +deceived the pirates, who took huge delight in our predicament. + +But the chain remained tangled, and amid all kinds of mocking +advice we drifted down upon and fouled the Ghost, whose bowsprit +poked square through our mainsail and ripped a hole in it as big as +a barn door. The Centipede and the Porpoise doubled up on the +cabin in paroxysms of laughter, and left us to get clear as best we +could. This, with much unseaman-like performance, we succeeded in +doing, and likewise in clearing the anchor-chain, of which we let +out about three hundred feet. With only ten feet of water under +us, this would permit the Coal Tar Maggie to swing in a circle six +hundred feet in diameter, in which circle she would be able to foul +at least half the fleet. + +The oyster pirates lay snugly together at short hawsers, the +weather being fine, and they protested loudly at our ignorance in +putting out such an unwarranted length of anchor-chain. And not +only did they protest, for they made us heave it in again, all but +thirty feet. + +Having sufficiently impressed them with our general lubberliness, +Nicholas and I went below to congratulate ourselves and to cook +supper. Hardly had we finished the meal and washed the dishes, +when a skiff ground against the Coal Tar Maggie's side, and heavy +feet trampled on deck. Then the Centipede's brutal face appeared +in the companionway, and he descended into the cabin, followed by +the Porpoise. Before they could seat themselves on a bunk, another +skiff came alongside, and another, and another, till the whole +fleet was represented by the gathering in the cabin. + +"Where'd you swipe the old tub?" asked a squat and hairy man, with +cruel eyes and Mexican features. + +"Didn't swipe it," Nicholas answered, meeting them on their own +ground and encouraging the idea that we had stolen the Coal Tar +Maggie. "And if we did, what of it?" + +"Well, I don't admire your taste, that's all," sneered he of the +Mexican features. "I'd rot on the beach first before I'd take a +tub that couldn't get out of its own way." + +"How were we to know till we tried her?" Nicholas asked, so +innocently as to cause a laugh. "And how do you get the oysters?" +he hurried on. "We want a load of them; that's what we came for, a +load of oysters." + +"What d'ye want 'em for?" demanded the Porpoise. + +"Oh, to give away to our friends, of course," Nicholas retorted. +"That's what you do with yours, I suppose." + +This started another laugh, and as our visitors grew more genial we +could see that they had not the slightest suspicion of our identity +or purpose. + +"Didn't I see you on the dock in Oakland the other day?" the +Centipede asked suddenly of me. + +"Yep," I answered boldly, taking the bull by the horns. "I was +watching you fellows and figuring out whether we'd go oystering or +not. It's a pretty good business, I calculate, and so we're going +in for it. That is," I hastened to add, "if you fellows don't +mind." + +"I'll tell you one thing, which ain't two things," he replied, "and +that is you'll have to hump yerself an' get a better boat. We +won't stand to be disgraced by any such box as this. Understand?" + +"Sure," I said. "Soon as we sell some oysters we'll outfit in +style." + +"And if you show yerself square an' the right sort," he went on, +"why, you kin run with us. But if you don't" (here his voice +became stern and menacing), "why, it'll be the sickest day of yer +life. Understand?" + +"Sure," I said. + +After that and more warning and advice of similar nature, the +conversation became general, and we learned that the beds were to +be raided that very night. As they got into their boats, after an +hour's stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with the +assurance of "the more the merrier." + +"Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?" Nicholas asked, +when they had departed to their various sloops. "He's Barchi, of +the Sporting Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him is +Skilling. They're both out now on five thousand dollars' bail." + +I had heard of the Sporting Life Gang before, a crowd of hoodlums +and criminals that terrorized the lower quarters of Oakland, and +two-thirds of which were usually to be found in state's prison for +crimes that ranged from perjury and ballot-box stuffing to murder. + +"They are not regular oyster pirates," Nicholas continued. +"They've just come down for the lark and to make a few dollars. +But we'll have to watch out for them." + +We sat in the cockpit and discussed the details of our plan till +eleven o'clock had passed, when we heard the rattle of an oar in a +boat from the direction of the Ghost. We hauled up our own skiff, +tossed in a few sacks, and rowed over. There we found all the +skiffs assembling, it being the intention to raid the beds in a +body. + +To my surprise, I found barely a foot of water where we had dropped +anchor in ten feet. It was the big June run-out of the full moon, +and as the ebb had yet an hour and a half to run, I knew that our +anchorage would be dry ground before slack water. + +Mr. Taft's beds were three miles away, and for a long time we rowed +silently in the wake of the other boats, once in a while grounding +and our oar blades constantly striking bottom. At last we came +upon soft mud covered with not more than two inches of water--not +enough to float the boats. But the pirates at once were over the +side, and by pushing and pulling on the flat-bottomed skiffs, we +moved steadily along. + +The full moon was partly obscured by high-flying clouds, but the +pirates went their way with the familiarity born of long practice. +After half a mile of the mud, we came upon a deep channel, up which +we rowed, with dead oyster shoals looming high and dry on either +side. At last we reached the picking grounds. Two men, on one of +the shoals, hailed us and warned us off. But the Centipede, the +Porpoise, Barchi, and Skilling took the lead, and followed by the +rest of us, at least thirty men in half as many boats, rowed right +up to the watchmen. + +"You'd better slide outa this here," Barchi said threateningly, "or +we'll fill you so full of holes you wouldn't float in molasses." + +The watchmen wisely retreated before so overwhelming a force, and +rowed their boat along the channel toward where the shore should +be. Besides, it was in the plan for them to retreat. + +We hauled the noses of the boats up on the shore side of a big +shoal, and all hands, with sacks, spread out and began picking. +Every now and again the clouds thinned before the face of the moon, +and we could see the big oysters quite distinctly. In almost no +time sacks were filled and carried back to the boats, where fresh +ones were obtained. Nicholas and I returned often and anxiously to +the boats with our little loads, but always found some one of the +pirates coming or going. + +"Never mind," he said; "no hurry. As they pick farther and farther +away, it will take too long to carry to the boats. Then they'll +stand the full sacks on end and pick them up when the tide comes in +and the skiffs will float to them." + +Fully half an hour went by, and the tide had begun to flood, when +this came to pass. Leaving the pirates at their work, we stole +back to the boats. One by one, and noiselessly, we shoved them off +and made them fast in an awkward flotilla. Just as we were shoving +off the last skiff, our own, one of the men came upon us. It was +Barchi. His quick eye took in the situation at a glance, and he +sprang for us; but we went clear with a mighty shove, and he was +left floundering in the water over his head. As soon as he got +back to the shoal he raised his voice and gave the alarm. + +We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so many +boats in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a second, and a +third; then a regular fusillade began. The bullets spat and spat +all about us; but thick clouds had covered the moon, and in the dim +darkness it was no more than random firing. It was only by chance +that we could be hit. + +"Wish we had a little steam launch," I panted. + +"I'd just as soon the moon stayed hidden," Nicholas panted back. + +It was slow work, but every stroke carried us farther away from the +shoal and nearer the shore, till at last the shooting died down, +and when the moon did come out we were too far away to be in +danger. Not long afterward we answered a shoreward hail, and two +Whitehall boats, each pulled by three pairs of oars, darted up to +us. Charley's welcome face bent over to us, and he gripped us by +the hands while he cried, "Oh, you joys! You joys! Both of you!" + +When the flotilla had been landed, Nicholas and I and a watchman +rowed out in one of the Whitehalls, with Charley in the stern- +sheets. Two other Whitehalls followed us, and as the moon now +shone brightly, we easily made out the oyster pirates on their +lonely shoal. As we drew closer, they fired a rattling volley from +their revolvers, and we promptly retreated beyond range. + +"Lot of time," Charley said. "The flood is setting in fast, and by +the time it's up to their necks there won't be any fight left in +them." + +So we lay on our oars and waited for the tide to do its work. This +was the predicament of the pirates: because of the big run-out, +the tide was now rushing back like a mill-race, and it was +impossible for the strongest swimmer in the world to make against +it the three miles to the sloops. Between the pirates and the +shore were we, precluding escape in that direction. On the other +hand, the water was rising rapidly over the shoals, and it was only +a question of a few hours when it would be over their heads. + +It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight we +watched them through our night glasses and told Charley of the +voyage of the Coal Tar Maggie. One o'clock came, and two o'clock, +and the pirates were clustering on the highest shoal, waist-deep in +water. + +"Now this illustrates the value of imagination," Charley was +saying. "Taft has been trying for years to get them, but he went +at it with bull strength and failed. Now we used our heads . . ." + +Just then I heard a scarcely audible gurgle of water, and holding +up my hand for silence, I turned and pointed to a ripple slowly +widening out in a growing circle. It was not more than fifty feet +from us. We kept perfectly quiet and waited. After a minute the +water broke six feet away, and a black head and white shoulder +showed in the moonlight. With a snort of surprise and of suddenly +expelled breath, the head and shoulder went down. + +We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the current. Four +pairs of eyes searched the surface of the water, but never another +ripple showed, and never another glimpse did we catch of the black +head and white shoulder. + +"It's the Porpoise," Nicholas said. "It would take broad daylight +for us to catch him." + +At a quarter to three the pirates gave their first sign of +weakening. We heard cries for help, in the unmistakable voice of +the Centipede, and this time, on rowing closer, we were not fired +upon. The Centipede was in a truly perilous plight. Only the +heads and shoulders of his fellow-marauders showed above the water +as they braced themselves against the current, while his feet were +off the bottom and they were supporting him. + +"Now, lads," Charley said briskly, "we have got you, and you can't +get away. If you cut up rough, we'll have to leave you alone and +the water will finish you. But if you're good we'll take you +aboard, one man at a time, and you'll all be saved. What do you +say?" + +"Ay," they chorused hoarsely between their chattering teeth. + +"Then one man at a time, and the short men first." + +The Centipede was the first to be pulled aboard, and he came +willingly, though he objected when the constable put the handcuffs +on him. Barchi was next hauled in, quite meek and resigned from +his soaking. When we had ten in, our boat we drew back, and the +second Whitehall was loaded. The third Whitehall received nine +prisoners only--a catch of twenty-nine in all. + +"You didn't get the Porpoise," the Centipede said exultantly, as +though his escape materially diminished our success. + +Charley laughed. "But we saw him just the same, a-snorting for +shore like a puffing pig." + +It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up the +beach to the oyster house. In answer to Charley's knock, the door +was flung open, and a pleasant wave of warm air rushed out upon us. + +"You can dry your clothes here, lads, and get some hot coffee," +Charley announced, as they filed in. + +And there, sitting ruefully by the fire, with a steaming mug in his +hand, was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and I looked at +Charley. He laughed gleefully. + +"That comes of imagination," he said. "When you see a thing, +you've got to see it all around, or what's the good of seeing it at +all? I saw the beach, so I left a couple of constables behind to +keep an eye on it. That's all." + + + +THE SIEGE OF THE "LANCASHIRE QUEEN" + + + +Possibly our most exasperating experience on the fish patrol was +when Charley Le Grant and I laid a two weeks' siege to a big four- +masted English ship. Before we had finished with the affair, it +became a pretty mathematical problem, and it was by the merest +chance that we came into possession of the instrument that brought +it to a successful termination. + +After our raid on the oyster pirates we had returned to Oakland, +where two more weeks passed before Neil Partington's wife was out +of danger and on the highroad to recovery. So it was after an +absence of a month, all told, that we turned the Reindeer's nose +toward Benicia. When the cat's away the mice will play, and in +these four weeks the fishermen had become very bold in violating +the law. When we passed Point Pedro we noticed many signs of +activity among the shrimp-catchers, and, well into San Pablo Bay, +we observed a widely scattered fleet of Upper Bay fishing-boats +hastily pulling in their nets and getting up sail. + +This was suspicious enough to warrant investigation, and the first +and only boat we succeeded in boarding proved to have an illegal +net. The law permitted no smaller mesh for catching shad than one +that measured seven and one-half inches inside the knots, while the +mesh of this particular net measured only three inches. It was a +flagrant breach of the rules, and the two fishermen were forthwith +put under arrest. Neil Partington took one of them with him to +help manage the Reindeer, while Charley and I went on ahead with +the other in the captured boat. + +But the shad fleet had headed over toward the Petaluma shore in +wild flight, and for the rest of the run through San Pablo Bay we +saw no more fishermen at all. Our prisoner, a bronzed and bearded +Greek, sat sullenly on his net while we sailed his craft. It was a +new Columbia River salmon boat, evidently on its first trip, and it +handled splendidly. Even when Charley praised it, our prisoner +refused to speak or to notice us, and we soon gave him up as a most +unsociable fellow. + +We ran up the Carquinez Straits and edged into the bight at +Turner's Shipyard for smoother water. Here were lying several +English steel sailing ships, waiting for the wheat harvest; and +here, most unexpectedly, in the precise place where we had captured +Big Alec, we came upon two Italians in a skiff that was loaded with +a complete "Chinese" sturgeon line. The surprise was mutual, and +we were on top of them before either they or we were aware. +Charley had barely time to luff into the wind and run up to them. +I ran forward and tossed them a line with orders to make it fast. +One of the Italians took a turn with it over a cleat, while I +hastened to lower our big spritsail. This accomplished, the salmon +boat dropped astern, dragging heavily on the skiff. + +Charley came forward to board the prize, but when I proceeded to +haul alongside by means of the line, the Italians cast it off. We +at once began drifting to leeward, while they got out two pairs of +oars and rowed their light craft directly into the wind. This +manoeuvre for the moment disconcerted us, for in our large and +heavily loaded boat we could not hope to catch them with the oars. +But our prisoner came unexpectedly to our aid. His black eyes were +flashing eagerly, and his face was flushed with suppressed +excitement, as he dropped the centre-board, sprang forward with a +single leap, and put up the sail. + +"I've always heard that Greeks don't like Italians," Charley +laughed, as he ran aft to the tiller. + +And never in my experience have I seen a man so anxious for the +capture of another as was our prisoner in the chase that followed. +His eyes fairly snapped, and his nostrils quivered and dilated in a +most extraordinary way. Charley steered while he tended the sheet; +and though Charley was as quick and alert as a cat, the Greek could +hardly control his impatience. + +The Italians were cut off from the shore, which was fully a mile +away at its nearest point. Did they attempt to make it, we could +haul after them with the wind abeam, and overtake them before they +had covered an eighth of the distance. But they were too wise to +attempt it, contenting themselves with rowing lustily to windward +along the starboard side of a big ship, the Lancashire Queen. But +beyond the ship lay an open stretch of fully two miles to the shore +in that direction. This, also, they dared not attempt, for we were +bound to catch them before they could cover it. So, when they +reached the bow of the Lancashire Queen, nothing remained but to +pass around and row down her port side toward the stern, which +meant rowing to leeward and giving us the advantage. + +We in the salmon boat, sailing close on the wind, tacked about and +crossed the ship's bow. Then Charley put up the tiller and headed +down the port side of the ship, the Greek letting out the sheet and +grinning with delight. The Italians were already half-way down the +ship's length; but the stiff breeze at our back drove us after them +far faster than they could row. Closer and closer we came, and I, +lying down forward, was just reaching out to grasp the skiff, when +it ducked under the great stern of the Lancashire Queen. + +The chase was virtually where it had begun. The Italians were +rowing up the starboard side of the ship, and we were hauled close +on the wind and slowly edging out from the ship as we worked to +windward. Then they darted around her bow and began the row down +her port side, and we tacked about, crossed her bow, and went +plunging down the wind hot after them. And again, just as I was +reaching for the skiff, it ducked under the ship's stern and out of +danger. And so it went, around and around, the skiff each time +just barely ducking into safety. + +By this time the ship's crew had become aware of what was taking +place, and we could see their heads in a long row as they looked at +us over the bulwarks. Each time we missed the skiff at the stern, +they set up a wild cheer and dashed across to the other side of the +Lancashire Queen to see the chase to wind-ward. They showered us +and the Italians with jokes and advice, and made our Greek so angry +that at least once on each circuit he raised his fist and shook it +at them in a rage. They came to look for this, and at each display +greeted it with uproarious mirth. + +"Wot a circus!" cried one. + +"Tork about yer marine hippodromes,--if this ain't one, I'd like to +know!" affirmed another. + +"Six-days-go-as-yer-please," announced a third. "Who says the +dagoes won't win?" + +On the next tack to windward the Greek offered to change places +with Charley. + +"Let-a me sail-a de boat," he demanded. "I fix-a them, I catch-a +them, sure." + +This was a stroke at Charley's professional pride, for pride +himself he did upon his boat-sailing abilities; but he yielded the +tiller to the prisoner and took his place at the sheet. Three +times again we made the circuit, and the Greek found that he could +get no more speed out of the salmon boat than Charley had. + +"Better give it up," one of the sailors advised from above. + +The Greek scowled ferociously and shook his fist in his customary +fashion. In the meanwhile my mind had not been idle, and I had +finally evolved an idea. + +"Keep going, Charley, one time more," I said. + +And as we laid out on the next tack to wind-ward, I bent a piece of +line to a small grappling hook I had seen lying in the bail-hole. +The end of the line I made fast to the ring-bolt in the bow, and +with the hook out of sight I waited for the next opportunity to use +it. Once more they made their leeward pull down the port side of +the Lancashire Queen, and once more we churned down after them +before the wind. Nearer and nearer we drew, and I was making +believe to reach for them as before. The stern of the skiff was +not six feet away, and they were laughing at me derisively as they +ducked under the ship's stern. At that instant I suddenly arose +and threw the grappling iron. It caught fairly and squarely on the +rail of the skiff, which was jerked backward out of safety as the +rope tautened and the salmon boat ploughed on. + +A groan went up from the row of sailors above, which quickly +changed to a cheer as one of the Italians whipped out a long +sheath-knife and cut the rope. But we had drawn them out of +safety, and Charley, from his place in the stern-sheets, reached +over and clutched the stern of the skiff. The whole thing happened +in a second of time, for the first Italian was cutting the rope and +Charley was clutching the skiff when the second Italian dealt him a +rap over the head with an oar, Charley released his hold and +collapsed, stunned, into the bottom of the salmon boat, and the +Italians bent to their oars and escaped back under the ship's +stern. + +The Greek took both tiller and sheet and continued the chase around +the Lancashire Queen, while I attended to Charley, on whose head a +nasty lump was rapidly rising. Our sailor audience was wild with +delight, and to a man encouraged the fleeing Italians. Charley sat +up, with one hand on his head, and gazed about him sheepishly. + +"It will never do to let them escape now," he said, at the same +time drawing his revolver. + +On our next circuit, he threatened the Italians with the weapon; +but they rowed on stolidly, keeping splendid stroke and utterly +disregarding him. + +"If you don't stop, I'll shoot," Charley said menacingly. + +But this had no effect, nor were they to be frightened into +surrendering even when he fired several shots dangerously close to +them. It was too much to expect him to shoot unarmed men, and this +they knew as well as we did; so they continued to pull doggedly +round and round the ship. + +"We'll run them down, then!" Charley exclaimed. "We'll wear them +out and wind them!" + +So the chase continued. Twenty times more we ran them around the +Lancashire Queen, and at last we could see that even their iron +muscles were giving out. They were nearly exhausted, and it was +only a matter of a few more circuits, when the game took on a new +feature. On the row to windward they always gained on us, so that +they were half-way down the ship's side on the row to leeward when +we were passing the bow. But this last time, as we passed the bow, +we saw them escaping up the ship's gangway, which had been suddenly +lowered. It was an organized move on the part of the sailors, +evidently countenanced by the captain; for by the time we arrived +where the gangway had been, it was being hoisted up, and the skiff, +slung in the ship's davits, was likewise flying aloft out of reach. + +The parley that followed with the captain was short and snappy. He +absolutely forbade us to board the Lancashire Queen, and as +absolutely refused to give up the two men. By this time Charley +was as enraged as the Greek. Not only had he been foiled in a long +and ridiculous chase, but he had been knocked senseless into the +bottom of his boat by the men who had escaped him. + +"Knock off my head with little apples," he declared emphatically, +striking the fist of one hand into the palm of the other, "if those +two men ever escape me! I'll stay here to get them if it takes the +rest of my natural life, and if I don't get them, then I promise +you I'll live unnaturally long or until I do get them, or my name's +not Charley Le Grant!" + +And then began the siege of the Lancashire Queen, a siege memorable +in the annals of both fishermen and fish patrol. When the Reindeer +came along, after a fruitless pursuit of the shad fleet, Charley +instructed Neil Partington to send out his own salmon boat, with +blankets, provisions, and a fisherman's charcoal stove. By sunset +this exchange of boats was made, and we said good-by to our Greek, +who perforce had to go into Benicia and be locked up for his own +violation of the law. After supper, Charley and I kept alternate +four-hour watches till day-light. The fishermen made no attempt to +escape that night, though the ship sent out a boat for scouting +purposes to find if the coast were clear. + +By the next day we saw that a steady siege was in order, and we +perfected our plans with an eye to our own comfort. A dock, known +as the Solano Wharf, which ran out from the Benicia shore, helped +us in this. It happened that the Lancashire Queen, the shore at +Turner's Shipyard, and the Solano Wharf were the corners of a big +equilateral triangle. From ship to shore, the side of the triangle +along which the Italians had to escape, was a distance equal to +that from the Solano Wharf to the shore, the side of the triangle +along which we had to travel to get to the shore before the +Italians. But as we could sail much faster than they could row, we +could permit them to travel about half their side of the triangle +before we darted out along our side. If we allowed them to get +more than half-way, they were certain to beat us to shore; while if +we started before they were half-way, they were equally certain to +beat us back to the ship. + +We found that an imaginary line, drawn from the end of the wharf to +a windmill farther along the shore, cut precisely in half the line +of the triangle along which the Italians must escape to reach the +land. This line made it easy for us to determine how far to let +them run away before we bestirred ourselves in pursuit. Day after +day we would watch them through our glasses as they rowed leisurely +along toward the half-way point; and as they drew close into line +with the windmill, we would leap into the boat and get up sail. At +sight of our preparation, they would turn and row slowly back to +the Lancashire Queen, secure in the knowledge that we could not +overtake them. + +To guard against calms--when our salmon boat would be useless--we +also had in readiness a light rowing skiff equipped with spoon- +oars. But at such times, when the wind failed us, we were forced +to row out from the wharf as soon as they rowed from the ship. In +the night-time, on the other hand, we were compelled to patrol the +immediate vicinity of the ship; which we did, Charley and I +standing four-hour watches turn and turn about. The Italians, +however, preferred the daytime in which to escape, and so our long +night vigils were without result. + +"What makes me mad," said Charley, "is our being kept from our +honest beds while those rascally lawbreakers are sleeping soundly +every night. But much good may it do them," he threatened. "I'll +keep them on that ship till the captain charges them board, as sure +as a sturgeon's not a catfish!" + +It was a tantalizing problem that confronted us. As long as we +were vigilant, they could not escape; and as long as they were +careful, we would be unable to catch them. Charley cudgelled his +brains continually, but for once his imagination failed him. It +was a problem apparently without other solution than that of +patience. It was a waiting game, and whichever waited the longer +was bound to win. To add to our irritation, friends of the +Italians established a code of signals with them from the shore, so +that we never dared relax the siege for a moment. And besides +this, there were always one or two suspicious-looking fishermen +hanging around the Solano Wharf and keeping watch on our actions. +We could do nothing but "grin and bear it," as Charley said, while +it took up all our time and prevented us from doing other work. + +The days went by, and there was no change in the situation. Not +that no attempts were made to change it. One night friends from +the shore came out in a skiff and attempted to confuse us while the +two Italians escaped. That they did not succeed was due to the +lack of a little oil on the ship's davits. For we were drawn back +from the pursuit of the strange boat by the creaking of the davits, +and arrived at the Lancashire Queen just as the Italians were +lowering their skiff. Another night, fully half a dozen skiffs +rowed around us in the darkness, but we held on like a leech to the +side of the ship and frustrated their plan till they grew angry and +showered us with abuse. Charley laughed to himself in the bottom +of the boat. + +"It's a good sign, lad," he said to me. "When men begin to abuse, +make sure they're losing patience; and shortly after they lose +patience, they lose their heads. Mark my words, if we only hold +out, they'll get careless some fine day, and then we'll get them." + +But they did not grow careless, and Charley confessed that this was +one of the times when all signs failed. Their patience seemed +equal to ours, and the second week of the siege dragged +monotonously along. Then Charley's lagging imagination quickened +sufficiently to suggest a ruse. Peter Boyelen, a new patrolman and +one unknown to the fisher-folk, happened to arrive in Benicia and +we took him into our plan. We were as secret as possible about it, +but in some unfathomable way the friends ashore got word to the +beleaguered Italians to keep their eyes open. + +On the night we were to put our ruse into effect, Charley and I +took up our usual station in our rowing skiff alongside the +Lancashire Queen. After it was thoroughly dark, Peter Boyelen came +out in a crazy duck boat, the kind you can pick up and carry away +under one arm. When we heard him coming along, paddling noisily, +we slipped away a short distance into the darkness, and rested on +our oars. Opposite the gangway, having jovially hailed the anchor- +watch of the Lancashire Queen and asked the direction of the +Scottish Chiefs, another wheat ship, he awkwardly capsized himself. +The man who was standing the anchor-watch ran down the gangway and +hauled him out of the water. This was what he wanted, to get +aboard the ship; and the next thing he expected was to be taken on +deck and then below to warm up and dry out. But the captain +inhospitably kept him perched on the lowest gang-way step, +shivering miserably and with his feet dangling in the water, till +we, out of very pity, rowed in from the darkness and took him off. +The jokes and gibes of the awakened crew sounded anything but sweet +in our ears, and even the two Italians climbed up on the rail and +laughed down at us long and maliciously. + +"That's all right," Charley said in a low voice, which I only could +hear. "I'm mighty glad it's not us that's laughing first. We'll +save our laugh to the end, eh, lad?" + +He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he finished, but it seemed to +me that there was more determination than hope in his voice. + +It would have been possible for us to secure the aid of United +States marshals and board the English ship, backed by Government +authority. But the instructions of the Fish Commission were to the +effect that the patrolmen should avoid complications, and this one, +did we call on the higher powers, might well end in a pretty +international tangle. + +The second week of the siege drew to its close, and there was no +sign of change in the situation. On the morning of the fourteenth +day the change came, and it came in a guise as unexpected and +startling to us as it was to the men we were striving to capture. + +Charley and I, after our customary night vigil by the side of the +Lancashire Queen, rowed into the Solana Wharf. + +"Hello!" cried Charley, in surprise. "In the name of reason and +common sense, what is that? Of all unmannerly craft did you ever +see the like?" + +Well might he exclaim, for there, tied up to the dock, lay the +strangest looking launch I had ever seen. Not that it could be +called a launch, either, but it seemed to resemble a launch more +than any other kind of boat. It was seventy feet long, but so +narrow was it, and so bare of superstructure, that it appeared much +smaller than it really was. It was built wholly of steel, and was +painted black. Three smokestacks, a good distance apart and raking +well aft, arose in single file amidships; while the bow, long and +lean and sharp as a knife, plainly advertised that the boat was +made for speed. Passing under the stern, we read Streak, painted +in small white letters. + +Charley and I were consumed with curiosity. In a few minutes we +were on board and talking with an engineer who was watching the +sunrise from the deck. He was quite willing to satisfy our +curiosity, and in a few minutes we learned that the Streak had come +in after dark from San Francisco; that this was what might be +called the trial trip; and that she was the property of Silas Tate, +a young mining millionaire of California, whose fad was high-speed +yachts. There was some talk about turbine engines, direct +application of steam, and the absence of pistons, rods, and +cranks,--all of which was beyond me, for I was familiar only with +sailing craft; but I did understand the last words of the engineer. + +"Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour, though you +wouldn't think it," he concluded proudly. + +"Say it again, man! Say it again!" Charley exclaimed in an excited +voice. + +"Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour," the +engineer repeated, grinning good-naturedly. + +"Where's the owner?" was Charley's next question. "Is there any +way I can speak to him?" + +The engineer shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. He's asleep, +you see." + +At that moment a young man in blue uniform came on deck farther aft +and stood regarding the sunrise. + +"There he is, that's him, that's Mr. Tate," said the engineer. + +Charley walked aft and spoke to him, and while he talked earnestly +the young man listened with an amused expression on his face. He +must have inquired about the depth of water close in to the shore +at Turner's Shipyard, for I could see Charley making gestures and +explaining. A few minutes later he came back in high glee. + +"Come on lad," he said. "On to the dock with you. We've got +them!" + +It was our good fortune to leave the Streak when we did, for a +little later one of the spy fishermen appeared. Charley and I took +up our accustomed places, on the stringer-piece, a little ahead of +the Streak and over our own boat, where we could comfortably watch +the Lancashire Queen. Nothing occurred till about nine o'clock, +when we saw the two Italians leave the ship and pull along their +side of the triangle toward the shore. Charley looked as +unconcerned as could be, but before they had covered a quarter of +the distance, he whispered to me: + +"Forty-five miles an hour . . . nothing can save them . . . they +are ours!" + +Slowly the two men rowed along till they were nearly in line with +the windmill. This was the point where we always jumped into our +salmon boat and got up the sail, and the two men, evidently +expecting it, seemed surprised when we gave no sign. + +When they were directly in line with the windmill, as near to the +shore as to the ship, and nearer the shore than we had ever allowed +them before, they grew suspicious. We followed them through the +glasses, and saw them standing up in the skiff and trying to find +out what we were doing. The spy fisherman, sitting beside us on +the stringer-piece was likewise puzzled. He could not understand +our inactivity. The men in the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but +stood up again and scanned it, as if they thought we might be in +hiding there. But a man came out on the beach and waved a +handkerchief to indicate that the coast was clear. That settled +them. They bent to the oars to make a dash for it. Still Charley +waited. Not until they had covered three-quarters of the distance +from the Lancashire Queen, which left them hardly more than a +quarter of a mile to gain the shore, did Charley slap me on the +shoulder and cry: + +"They're ours! They're ours!" + +We ran the few steps to the side of the Streak and jumped aboard. +Stern and bow lines were cast off in a jiffy. The Streak shot +ahead and away from the wharf. The spy fisherman we had left +behind on the stringer-piece pulled out a revolver and fired five +shots into the air in rapid succession. The men in the skiff gave +instant heed to the warning, for we could see them pulling away +like mad. + +But if they pulled like mad, I wonder how our progress can be +described? We fairly flew. So frightful was the speed with which +we displaced the water, that a wave rose up on either side our bow +and foamed aft in a series of three stiff, up-standing waves, while +astern a great crested billow pursued us hungrily, as though at +each moment it would fall aboard and destroy us. The Streak was +pulsing and vibrating and roaring like a thing alive. The wind of +our progress was like a gale--a forty-five-mile gale. We could not +face it and draw breath without choking and strangling. It blew +the smoke straight back from the mouths of the smoke-stacks at a +direct right angle to the perpendicular. In fact, we were +travelling as fast as an express train. "We just STREAKED it," was +the way Charley told it afterward, and I think his description +comes nearer than any I can give. + +As for the Italians in the skiff--hardly had we started, it seemed +to me, when we were on top of them. Naturally, we had to slow down +long before we got to them; but even then we shot past like a +whirlwind and were compelled to circle back between them and the +shore. They had rowed steadily, rising from the thwarts at every +stroke, up to the moment we passed them, when they recognized +Charley and me. That took the last bit of fight out of them. They +hauled in their oars, and sullenly submitted to arrest. + +"Well, Charley," Neil Partington said, as we discussed it on the +wharf afterward, "I fail to see where your boasted imagination came +into play this time." + +But Charley was true to his hobby. "Imagination?" he demanded, +pointing to the Streak. "Look at that! just look at it! If the +invention of that isn't imagination, I should like to know what +is." + +"Of course," he added, "it's the other fellow's imagination, but it +did the work all the same." + + + +CHARLEY'S COUP + + + +Perhaps our most laughable exploit on the fish patrol, and at the +same time our most dangerous one, was when we rounded in, at a +single haul, an even score of wrathful fishermen. Charley called +it a "coop," having heard Neil Partington use the term; but I think +he misunderstood the word, and thought it meant "coop," to catch, +to trap. The fishermen, however, coup or coop, must have called it +a Waterloo, for it was the severest stroke ever dealt them by the +fish patrol, while they had invited it by open and impudent +defiance of the law. + +During what is called the "open season" the fishermen might catch +as many salmon as their luck allowed and their boats could hold. +But there was one important restriction. From sun-down Saturday +night to sun-up Monday morning, they were not permitted to set a +net. This was a wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission, +for it was necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity +to ascend the river and lay their eggs. And this law, with only an +occasional violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek +fishermen who caught salmon for the canneries and the market. + +One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend +in Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was +out with its nets. Charley and I jumped into our salmon boat and +started for the scene of the trouble. With a light favoring wind +at our back we went through the Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun +Bay, passed the Ship Island Light, and came upon the whole fleet at +work. + +But first let me describe the method by which they worked. The net +used is what is known as a gill-net. It has a simple diamond- +shaped mesh which measures at least seven and one-half inches +between the knots. From five to seven and even eight hundred feet +in length, these nets are only a few feet wide. They are not +stationary, but float with the current, the upper edge supported on +the surface by floats, the lower edge sunk by means of leaden +weights, + +This arrangement keeps the net upright in the current and +effectually prevents all but the smaller fish from ascending the +river. The salmon, swimming near the surface, as is their custom, +run their heads through these meshes, and are prevented from going +on through by their larger girth of body, and from going back +because of their gills, which catch in the mesh. It requires two +fishermen to set such a net,--one to row the boat, while the other, +standing in the stern, carefully pays out the net. When it is all +out, stretching directly across the stream, the men make their boat +fast to one end of the net and drift along with it. + +As we came upon the fleet of law-breaking fishermen, each boat two +or three hundred yards from its neighbors, and boats and nets +dotting the river as far as we could see, Charley said: + +"I've only one regret, lad, and that is that I have'nt a thousand +arms so as to be able to catch them all. As it is, we'll only be +able to catch one boat, for while we are tackling that one it will +be up nets and away with the rest." + +As we drew closer, we observed none of the usual flurry and +excitement which our appearance invariably produced. Instead, each +boat lay quietly by its net, while the fishermen favored us with +not the slightest attention. + +"It's curious," Charley muttered. "Can it be they don't recognize +us?" + +I said that it was impossible, and Charley agreed; yet there was a +whole fleet, manned by men who knew us only too well, and who took +no more notice of us than if we were a hay scow or a pleasure +yacht. + +This did not continue to be the case, however, for as we bore down +upon the nearest net, the men to whom it belonged detached their +boat and rowed slowly toward the shore. The rest of the boats +showed no, sign of uneasiness. + +"That's funny," was Charley's remark. "But we can confiscate the +net, at any rate." + +We lowered sail, picked up one end of the net, and began to heave +it into the boat. But at the first heave we heard a bullet zip- +zipping past us on the water, followed by the faint report of a +rifle. The men who had rowed ashore were shooting at us. At the +next heave a second bullet went zipping past, perilously near. +Charley took a turn around a pin and sat down. There were no more +shots. But as soon as he began to heave in, the shooting +recommenced. + +"That settles it," he said, flinging the end of the net overboard. +"You fellows want it worse than we do, and you can have it." + +We rowed over toward the next net, for Charley was intent on +finding out whether or not we were face to face with an organized +defiance. As we approached, the two fishermen proceeded to cast +off from their net and row ashore, while the first two rowed back +and made fast to the net we had abandoned. And at the second net +we were greeted by rifle shots till we desisted and went on to the +third, where the manoeuvre was again repeated. + +Then we gave it up, completely routed, and hoisted sail and started +on the long windward beat back to Benicia. A number of Sundays +went by, on each of which the law was persistently violated. Yet, +short of an armed force of soldiers, we could do nothing. The +fishermen had hit upon a new idea and were using it for all it was +worth, while there seemed no way by which we could get the better +of them. + +About this time Neil Partington happened along from the Lower Bay, +where he had been for a number of weeks. With him was Nicholas, +the Greek boy who had helped us in our raid on the oyster pirates, +and the pair of them took a hand. We made our arrangements +carefully. It was planned that while Charley and I tackled the +nets, they were to be hidden ashore so as to ambush the fishermen +who landed to shoot at us. + +It was a pretty plan. Even Charley said it was. But we reckoned +not half so well as the Greeks. They forestalled us by ambushing +Neil and Nicholas and taking them prisoners, while, as of old, +bullets whistled about our ears when Charley and I attempted to +take possession of the nets. When we were again beaten off, Neil +Partington and Nicholas were released. They were rather shamefaced +when they put in an appearance, and Charley chaffed them +unmercifully. But Neil chaffed back, demanding to know why +Charley's imagination had not long since overcome the difficulty. + +"Just you wait; the idea'll come all right," Charley promised. + +"Most probably," Neil agreed. "But I'm afraid the salmon will be +exterminated first, and then there will be no need for it when it +does come." + +Neil Partington, highly disgusted with his adventure, departed for +the Lower Bay, taking Nicholas with him, and Charley and I were +left to our own resources. This meant that the Sunday fishing +would be left to itself, too, until such time as Charley's idea +happened along. I puzzled my head a good deal to find out some way +of checkmating the Greeks, as also did Charley, and we broached a +thousand expedients which on discussion proved worthless. + +The fishermen, on the other hand, were in high feather, and their +boasts went up and down the river to add to our discomfiture. +Among all classes of them we became aware of a growing +insubordination. We were beaten, and they were losing respect for +us. With the loss of respect, contempt began to arise. Charley +began to be spoken of as the "olda woman," and I received my rating +as the "pee-wee kid." The situation was fast becoming unbearable, +and we knew that we should have to deliver a stunning stroke at the +Greeks in order to regain the old-time respect in which we had +stood. + +Then one morning the idea came. We were down on Steamboat Wharf, +where the river steamers made their landings, and where we found a +group of amused long-shoremen and loafers listening to the hard- +luck tale of a sleepy-eyed young fellow in long sea-boots. He was +a sort of amateur fisherman, he said, fishing for the local market +of Berkeley. Now Berkeley was on the Lower Bay, thirty miles away. +On the previous night, he said, he had set his net and dozed off to +sleep in the bottom of the boat. + +The next he knew it was morning, and he opened his eyes to find his +boat rubbing softly against the piles of Steamboat Wharf at +Benicia. Also he saw the river steamer Apache lying ahead of him, +and a couple of deck-hands disentangling the shreds of his net from +the paddle-wheel. In short, after he had gone to sleep, his +fisherman's riding light had gone out, and the Apache had run over +his net. Though torn pretty well to pieces, the net in some way +still remained foul, and he had had a thirty-mile tow out of his +course. + +Charley nudged me with his elbow. I grasped his thought on the +instant, but objected: + +"We can't charter a steamboat." + +"Don't intend to," he rejoined. "But let's run over to Turner's +Shipyard. I've something in my mind there that may be of use to +us." + +And over we went to the shipyard, where Charley led the way to the +Mary Rebecca, lying hauled out on the ways, where she was being +cleaned and overhauled. She was a scow-schooner we both knew well, +carrying a cargo of one hundred and forty tons and a spread of +canvas greater than other schooner on the bay. + +"How d'ye do, Ole," Charley greeted a big blue-shirted Swede who +was greasing the jaws of the main gaff with a piece of pork rind. + +Ole grunted, puffed away at his pipe, and went on greasing. The +captain of a bay schooner is supposed to work with his hands just +as well as the men. + +Ole Ericsen verified Charley's conjecture that the Mary Rebecca, as +soon as launched, would run up the San Joaquin River nearly to +Stockton for a load of wheat. Then Charley made his proposition, +and Ole Ericsen shook his head. + +"Just a hook, one good-sized hook," Charley pleaded. + +"No, Ay tank not," said Ole Ericsen. "Der Mary Rebecca yust hang +up on efery mud-bank with that hook. Ay don't want to lose der +Mary Rebecca. She's all Ay got." + +"No, no," Charley hurried to explain. "We can put the end of the +hook through the bottom from the outside, and fasten it on the +inside with a nut. After it's done its work, why, all we have to +do is to go down into the hold, unscrew the nut, and out drops the +hook. Then drive a wooden peg into the hole, and the Mary Rebecca +will be all right again." + +Ole Ericsen was obstinate for a long time; but in the end, after we +had had dinner with him, he was brought round to consent. + +"Ay do it, by Yupiter!" he said, striking one huge fist into the +palm of the other hand. "But yust hurry you up wid der hook. Der +Mary Rebecca slides into der water to-night." + +It was Saturday, and Charley had need to hurry. We headed for the +shipyard blacksmith shop, where, under Charley's directions, a most +generously curved book of heavy steel was made. Back we hastened +to the Mary Rebecca. Aft of the great centre-board case, through +what was properly her keel, a hole was bored. The end of the hook +was inserted from the outside, and Charley, on the inside, screwed +the nut on tightly. As it stood complete, the hook projected over +a foot beneath the bottom of the schooner. Its curve was something +like the curve of a sickle, but deeper. + +In the late afternoon the Mary Rebecca was launched, and +preparations were finished for the start up-river next morning. +Charley and Ole intently studied the evening sky for signs of wind, +for without a good breeze our project was doomed to failure. They +agreed that there were all the signs of a stiff westerly wind--not +the ordinary afternoon sea-breeze, but a half-gale, which even then +was springing up. + +Next morning found their predictions verified. The sun was shining +brightly, but something more than a half-gale was shrieking up the +Carquinez Straits, and the Mary Rebecca got under way with two +reefs in her mainsail and one in her foresail. We found it quite +rough in the Straits and in Suisun Bay; but as the water grew more +land-locked it became calm, though without let-up in the wind. + +Off Ship Island Light the reefs were shaken out, and at Charley's +suggestion a big fisherman's staysail was made all ready for +hoisting, and the maintopsail, bunched into a cap at the masthead, +was overhauled so that it could be set on an instant's notice. + +We were tearing along, wing-and-wing, before the wind, foresail to +starboard and mainsail to port, as we came upon the salmon fleet. +There they were, boats and nets, as on that first Sunday when they +had bested us, strung out evenly over the river as far as we could +see. A narrow space on the right-hand side of the channel was left +clear for steamboats, but the rest of the river was covered with +the wide-stretching nets. The narrow space was our logical course, +but Charley, at the wheel, steered the Mary Rebecca straight for +the nets. This did not cause any alarm among the fishermen, +because up-river sailing craft are always provided with "shoes" on +the ends of their keels, which permit them to slip over the nets +without fouling them. + +"Now she takes it!" Charley cried, as we dashed across the middle +of a line of floats which marked a net. At one end of this line +was a small barrel buoy, at the other the two fishermen in their +boat. Buoy and boat at once began to draw together, and the +fishermen to cry out, as they were jerked after us. A couple of +minutes later we hooked a second net, and then a third, and in this +fashion we tore straight up through the centre of the fleet. + +The consternation we spread among the fishermen was tremendous. As +fast as we hooked a net the two ends of it, buoy and boat, came +together as they dragged out astern; and so many buoys and boats, +coming together at such breakneck speed, kept the fishermen on the +jump to avoid smashing into one another. Also, they shouted at us +like mad to heave to into the wind, for they took it as some +drunken prank on the part of scow-sailors, little dreaming that we +were the fish patrol. + +The drag of a single net is very heavy, and Charley and Ole Ericsen +decided that even in such a wind ten nets were all the Mary Rebecca +could take along with her. So when we had hooked ten nets, with +ten boats containing twenty men streaming along behind us, we +veered to the left out of the fleet and headed toward Collinsville. + +We were all jubilant. Charley was handling the wheel as though he +were steering the winning yacht home in a race. The two sailors +who made up the crew of the Mary Rebecca, were grinning and joking. +Ole Ericsen was rubbing his huge hands in child-like glee. + +"Ay tank you fish patrol fallers never ban so lucky as when you +sail with Ole Ericsen," he was saying, when a rifle cracked sharply +astern, and a bullet gouged along the newly painted cabin, glanced +on a nail, and sang shrilly onward into space. + +This was too much for Ole Ericsen. At sight of his beloved +paintwork thus defaced, he jumped up and shook his fist at the +fishermen; but a second bullet smashed into the cabin not six +inches from his head, and he dropped down to the deck under cover +of the rail. + +All the fishermen had rifles, and they now opened a general +fusillade. We were all driven to cover--even Charley, who was +compelled to desert the wheel. Had it not been for the heavy drag +of the nets, we would inevitably have broached to at the mercy of +the enraged fishermen. But the nets, fastened to the bottom of the +Mary Rebecca well aft, held her stern into the wind, and she +continued to plough on, though somewhat erratically. + +Charley, lying on the deck, could just manage to reach the lower +spokes of the wheel; but while he could steer after a fashion, it +was very awkward. Ole Ericsen bethought himself of a large piece +of sheet steel in the empty hold. + +It was in fact a plate from the side of the New Jersey, a steamer +which had recently been wrecked outside the Golden Gate, and in the +salving of which the Mary Rebecca had taken part. + +Crawling carefully along the deck, the two sailors, Ole, and myself +got the heavy plate on deck and aft, where we reared it as a shield +between the wheel and the fishermen. The bullets whanged and +banged against it till it rang like a bull's-eye, but Charley +grinned in its shelter, and coolly went on steering. + +So we raced along, behind us a howling, screaming bedlam of +wrathful Greeks, Collinsville ahead, and bullets spat-spatting all +around us. + +"Ole," Charley said in a faint voice, "I don't know what we're +going to do." + +Ole Ericsen, lying on his back close to the rail and grinning +upward at the sky, turned over on his side and looked at him. "Ay +tank we go into Collinsville yust der same," he said. + +"But we can't stop," Charley groaned. "I never thought of it, but +we can't stop." + +A look of consternation slowly overspread Ole Ericsen's broad face. +It was only too true. We had a hornet's nest on our hands, and to +stop at Collinsville would be to have it about our ears. + +"Every man Jack of them has a gun," one of the sailors remarked +cheerfully. + +"Yes, and a knife, too," the other sailor added. + +It was Ole Ericsen's turn to groan. "What for a Svaidish faller +like me monkey with none of my biziness, I don't know," he +soliloquized. + +A bullet glanced on the stern and sang off to starboard like a +spiteful bee. "There's nothing to do but plump the Mary Rebecca +ashore and run for it," was the verdict of the first cheerful +sailor. + +"And leaf der Mary Rebecca?" Ole demanded, with unspeakable horror +in his voice. + +"Not unless you want to," was the response. "But I don't want to +be within a thousand miles of her when those fellers come aboard"-- +indicating the bedlam of excited Greeks towing behind. + +We were right in at Collinsville then, and went foaming by within +biscuit-toss of the wharf. + +"I only hope the wind holds out," Charley said, stealing a glance +at our prisoners. + +"What of der wind?" Ole demanded disconsolately. "Der river will +not hold out, and then . . . and then . . ." + +"It's head for tall timber, and the Greeks take the hindermost," +adjudged the cheerful sailor, while Ole was stuttering over what +would happen when we came to the end of the river. + +We had now reached a dividing of the ways. To the left was the +mouth of the Sacramento River, to the right the mouth of the San +Joaquin. The cheerful sailor crept forward and jibed over the +foresail as Charley put the helm to starboard and we swerved to the +right into the San Joaquin. The wind, from which we had been +running away on an even keel, now caught us on our beam, and the +Mary Rebecca was pressed down on her port side as if she were about +to capsize. + +Still we dashed on, and still the fishermen dashed on behind. The +value of their nets was greater than the fines they would have to +pay for violating the fish laws; so to cast off from their nets and +escape, which they could easily do, would profit them nothing. +Further, they remained by their nets instinctively, as a sailor +remains by his ship. And still further, the desire for vengeance +was roused, and we could depend upon it that they would follow us +to the ends of the earth, if we undertook to tow them that far. + +The rifle-firing had ceased, and we looked astern to see what our +prisoners were doing. The boats were strung along at unequal +distances apart, and we saw the four nearest ones bunching +together. This was done by the boat ahead trailing a small rope +astern to the one behind. When this was caught, they would cast +off from their net and heave in on the line till they were brought +up to the boat in front. So great was the speed at which we were +travelling, however, that this was very slow work. Sometimes the +men would strain to their utmost and fail to get in an inch of the +rope; at other times they came ahead more rapidly. + +When the four boats were near enough together for a man to pass +from one to another, one Greek from each of three got into the +nearest boat to us, taking his rifle with him. This made five in +the foremost boat, and it was plain that their intention was to +board us. This they undertook to do, by main strength and sweat, +running hand over hand the float-line of a net. And though it was +slow, and they stopped frequently to rest, they gradually drew +nearer. + +Charley smiled at their efforts, and said, "Give her the topsail, +Ole." + +The cap at the mainmast head was broken out, and sheet and downhaul +pulled flat, amid a scattering rifle fire from the boats; and the +Mary Rebecca lay over and sprang ahead faster than ever. + +But the Greeks were undaunted. Unable, at the increased speed, to +draw themselves nearer by means of their hands, they rigged from +the blocks of their boat sail what sailors call a "watch-tackle." +One of them, held by the legs by his mates, would lean far over the +bow and make the tackle fast to the float-line. Then they would +heave in on the tackle till the blocks were together, when the +manoeuvre would be repeated. + +"Have to give her the staysail," Charley said. + +Ole Ericsen looked at the straining Mary Rebecca and shook his +head. "It will take der masts out of her," he said. + +"And we'll be taken out of her if you don't," Charley replied. + +Ole shot an anxious glance at his masts, another at the boat load +of armed Greeks, and consented. + +The five men were in the bow of the boat--a bad place when a craft +is towing. I was watching the behavior of their boat as the great +fisherman's staysail, far, far larger than the top-sail and used +only in light breezes, was broken out. As the Mary Rebecca lurched +forward with a tremendous jerk, the nose of the boat ducked down +into the water, and the men tumbled over one another in a wild rush +into the stern to save the boat from being dragged sheer under +water. + +"That settles them!" Charley remarked, though he was anxiously +studying the behavior of the Mary Rebecca, which was being driven +under far more canvas than she was rightly able to carry. + +"Next stop is Antioch!" announced the cheerful sailor, after the +manner of a railway conductor. "And next comes Merryweather!" + +"Come here, quick," Charley said to me. + +I crawled across the deck and stood upright beside him in the +shelter of the sheet steel. + +"Feel in my inside pocket," he commanded, "and get my notebook. +That's right. Tear out a blank page and write what I tell you." + +And this is what I wrote: + + +Telephone to Merryweather, to the sheriff, the constable, or the +judge. Tell them we are coming and to turn out the town. Arm +everybody. Have them down on the wharf to meet us or we are gone +gooses. + + +"Now make it good and fast to that marlin-spike, and stand by to +toss it ashore." + +I did as he directed. By then we were close to Antioch. The wind +was shouting through our rigging, the Mary Rebecca was half over on +her side and rushing ahead like an ocean greyhound. The seafaring +folk of Antioch had seen us breaking out topsail and staysail, a +most reckless performance in such weather, and had hurried to the +wharf-ends in little groups to find out what was the matter. + +Straight down the water front we boomed, Charley edging in till a +man could almost leap ashore. When he gave the signal I tossed the +marlinspike. It struck the planking of the wharf a resounding +smash, bounced along fifteen or twenty feet, and was pounced upon +by the amazed onlookers. + +It all happened in a flash, for the next minute Antioch was behind +and we were heeling it up the San Joaquin toward Merryweather, six +miles away. The river straightened out here into its general +easterly course, and we squared away before the wind, wing-and-wing +once more, the foresail bellying out to starboard. + +Ole Ericsen seemed sunk into a state of stolid despair. Charley +and the two sailors were looking hopeful, as they had good reason +to be. Merryweather was a coal-mining town, and, it being Sunday, +it was reasonable to expect the men to be in town. Further, the +coal-miners had never lost any love for the Greek fishermen, and +were pretty certain to render us hearty assistance. + +We strained our eyes for a glimpse of the town, and the first sight +we caught of it gave us immense relief. The wharves were black +with men. As we came closer, we could see them still arriving, +stringing down the main street, guns in their hands and on the run. +Charley glanced astern at the fishermen with a look of ownership in +his eye which till then had been missing. The Greeks were plainly +overawed by the display of armed strength and were putting their +own rifles away. + +We took in topsail and staysail, dropped the main peak, and as we +got abreast of the principal wharf jibed the mainsail. The Mary +Rebecca shot around into the wind, the captive fishermen describing +a great arc behind her, and forged ahead till she lost way, when +lines we're flung ashore and she was made fast. This was +accomplished under a hurricane of cheers from the delighted miners. + +Ole Ericsen heaved a great sigh. "Ay never tank Ay see my wife +never again," he confessed. + +"Why, we were never in any danger," said Charley. + +Ole looked at him incredulously. + +"Sure, I mean it," Charley went on. "All we had to do, any time, +was to let go our end--as I am going to do now, so that those +Greeks can untangle their nets." + +He went below with a monkey-wrench, unscrewed the nut, and let the +hook drop off. When the Greeks had hauled their nets into their +boats and made everything shipshape, a posse of citizens took them +off our hands and led them away to jail. + +"Ay tank Ay ban a great big fool," said Ole Ericsen. But he +changed his mind when the admiring townspeople crowded aboard to +shake hands with him, and a couple of enterprising newspaper men +took photographs of the Mary Rebecca and her captain. + + + +DEMETRIOS CONTOS + + + +It must not be thought, from what I have told of the Greek +fishermen, that they were altogether bad. Far from it. But they +were rough men, gathered together in isolated communities and +fighting with the elements for a livelihood. They lived far away +from the law and its workings, did not understand it, and thought +it tyranny. Especially did the fish laws seem tyrannical. And +because of this, they looked upon the men of the fish patrol as +their natural enemies. + +We menaced their lives, or their living, which is the same thing, +in many ways. We confiscated illegal traps and nets, the materials +of which had cost them considerable sums and the making of which +required weeks of labor. We prevented them from catching fish at +many times and seasons, which was equivalent to preventing them +from making as good a living as they might have made had we not +been in existence. And when we captured them, they were brought +into the courts of law, where heavy cash fines were collected from +them. As a result, they hated us vindictively. As the dog is the +natural enemy of the cat, the snake of man, so were we of the fish +patrol the natural enemies of the fishermen. + +But it is to show that they could act generously as well as hate +bitterly that this story of Demetrios Contos is told. Demetrios +Contos lived in Vallejo. Next to Big Alec, he was the largest, +bravest, and most influential man among the Greeks. He had given +us no trouble, and I doubt if he would ever have clashed with us +had he not invested in a new salmon boat. This boat was the cause +of all the trouble. He had had it built upon his own model, in +which the lines of the general salmon boat were somewhat modified. + +To his high elation he found his new boat very fast--in fact, +faster than any other boat on the bay or rivers. Forthwith he grew +proud and boastful: and, our raid with the Mary Rebecca on the +Sunday salmon fishers having wrought fear in their hearts, he sent +a challenge up to Benicia. One of the local fishermen conveyed it +to us; it was to the effect that Demetrios Contos would sail up +from Vallejo on the following Sunday, and in the plain sight of +Benicia set his net and catch salmon, and that Charley Le Grant, +patrolman, might come and get him if he could. Of course Charley +and I had heard nothing of the new boat. Our own boat was pretty +fast, and we were not afraid to have a brush with any other that +happened along. + +Sunday came. The challenge had been bruited abroad, and the +fishermen and seafaring folk of Benicia turned out to a man, +crowding Steamboat Wharf till it looked like the grand stand at a +football match. Charley and I had been sceptical, but the fact of +the crowd convinced us that there was something in Demetrios +Contos's dare. + +In the afternoon, when the sea-breeze had picked up in strength, +his sail hove into view as he bowled along before the wind. He +tacked a score of feet from the wharf, waved his hand theatrically, +like a knight about to enter the lists, received a hearty cheer in +return, and stood away into the Straits for a couple of hundred +yards. Then he lowered sail, and, drifting the boat sidewise by +means of the wind, proceeded to set his net. He did not set much +of it, possibly fifty feet; yet Charley and I were thunderstruck at +the man's effrontery. We did not know at the time, but we learned +afterward, that the net he used was old and worthless. It COULD +catch fish, true; but a catch of any size would have torn it to +pieces. + +Charley shook his head and said: + +"I confess, it puzzles me. What if he has out only fifty feet? He +could never get it in if we once started for him. And why does he +come here anyway, flaunting his law-breaking in our faces? Right +in our home town, too." + +Charley's voice took on an aggrieved tone, and he continued for +some minutes to inveigh against the brazenness of Demetrios Contos. + +In the meantime, the man in question was lolling in the stern of +his boat and watching the net floats. When a large fish is meshed +in a gill-net, the floats by their agitation advertise the fact. +And they evidently advertised it to Demetrios, for he pulled in +about a dozen feet of net, and held aloft for a moment, before he +flung it into the bottom of the boat, a big, glistening salmon. It +was greeted by the audience on the wharf with round after round of +cheers. This was more than Charley could stand. + +"Come on, lad," he called to me; and we lost no time jumping into +our salmon boat and getting up sail. + +The crowd shouted warning to Demetrios, and as we darted out from +the wharf we saw him slash his worthless net clear with a long +knife. His sail was all ready to go up, and a moment later it +fluttered in the sunshine. He ran aft, drew in the sheet, and +filled on the long tack toward the Contra Costa Hills. + +By this time we were not more than thirty feet astern. Charley was +jubilant. He knew our boat was fast, and he knew, further, that in +fine sailing few men were his equals. He was confident that we +should surely catch Demetrios, and I shared his confidence. But +somehow we did not seem to gain. + +It was a pretty sailing breeze. We were gliding sleekly through +the water, but Demetrios was slowly sliding away from us. And not +only was he going faster, but he was eating into the wind a +fraction of a point closer than we. This was sharply impressed +upon us when he went about under the Contra Costa Hills and passed +us on the other tack fully one hundred feet dead to windward. + +"Whew!" Charley exclaimed. "Either that boat is a daisy, or we've +got a five-gallon coal-oil can fast to our keel!" + +It certainly looked it one way or the other. And by the time +Demetrios made the Sonoma Hills, on the other side of the Straits, +we were so hopelessly outdistanced that Charley told me to slack +off the sheet, and we squared away for Benicia. The fishermen on +Steamboat Wharf showered us with ridicule when we returned and tied +up. Charley and I got out and walked away, feeling rather +sheepish, for it is a sore stroke to one's pride when he thinks he +has a good boat and knows how to sail it, and another man comes +along and beats him. + +Charley mooned over it for a couple of days; then word was brought +to us, as before, that on the next Sunday Demetrios Contos would +repeat his performance. Charley roused himself. He had our boat +out of the water, cleaned and repainted its bottom, made a trifling +alteration about the centre-board, overhauled the running gear, and +sat up nearly all of Saturday night sewing on a new and much larger +sail. So large did he make it, in fact, that additional ballast +was imperative, and we stowed away nearly five hundred extra pounds +of old railroad iron in the bottom of the boat. + +Sunday came, and with it came Demetrios Contos, to break the law +defiantly in open day. Again we had the afternoon sea-breeze, and +again Demetrios cut loose some forty or more feet of his rotten +net, and got up sail and under way under our very noses. But he +had anticipated Charley's move, and his own sail peaked higher than +ever, while a whole extra cloth had been added to the after leech. + +It was nip and tuck across to the Contra Costa Hills, neither of us +seeming to gain or to lose. But by the time we had made the return +tack to the Sonoma Hills, we could see that, while we footed it at +about equal speed, Demetrios had eaten into the wind the least bit +more than we. Yet Charley was sailing our boat as finely and +delicately as it was possible to sail it, and getting more out of +it than he ever had before. + +Of course, he could have drawn his revolver and fired at Demetrios; +but we had long since found it contrary to our natures to shoot at +a fleeing man guilty of only a petty offence. Also a sort of tacit +agreement seemed to have been reached between the patrolmen and the +fishermen. If we did not shoot while they ran away, they, in turn, +did not fight if we once laid hands on them. Thus Demetrios Contos +ran away from us, and we did no more than try our best to overtake +him; and, in turn, if our boat proved faster than his, or was +sailed better, he would, we knew, make no resistance when we caught +up with him. + +With our large sails and the healthy breeze romping up the +Carquinez Straits, we found that our sailing was what is called +"ticklish." We had to be constantly on the alert to avoid a +capsize, and while Charley steered I held the main-sheet in my hand +with but a single turn round a pin, ready to let go at any moment. +Demetrios, we could see, sailing his boat alone, had his hands +full. + +But it was a vain undertaking for us to attempt to catch him. Out +of his inner consciousness he had evolved a boat that was better +than ours. And though Charley sailed fully as well, if not the +least bit better, the boat he sailed was not so good as the +Greek's. + +"Slack away the sheet," Charley commanded; and as our boat fell off +before the wind, Demetrios's mocking laugh floated down to us. + +Charley shook his head, saying, "It's no use. Demetrios has the +better boat. If he tries his performance again, we must meet it +with some new scheme." + +This time it was my imagination that came to the rescue. + +"What's the matter," I suggested, on the Wednesday following, "with +my chasing Demetrios in the boat next Sunday, while you wait for +him on the wharf at Vallejo when he arrives?" + +Charley considered it a moment and slapped his knee. + +"A good idea! You're beginning to use that head of yours. A +credit to your teacher, I must say." + +"But you mustn't chase him too far," he went on, the next moment, +"or he'll head out into San Pablo Bay instead of running home to +Vallejo, and there I'll be, standing lonely on the wharf and +waiting in vain for him to arrive." + +On Thursday Charley registered an objection to my plan. + +"Everybody'll know I've gone to Vallejo, and you can depend upon it +that Demetrios will know, too. I'm afraid we'll have to give up +the idea." + +This objection was only too valid, and for the rest of the day I +struggled under my disappointment. But that night a new way seemed +to open to me, and in my eagerness I awoke Charley from a sound +sleep. + +"Well," he grunted, "what's the matter? House afire?" + +"No," I replied, "but my head is. Listen to this. On Sunday you +and I will be around Benicia up to the very moment Demetrios's sail +heaves into sight. This will lull everybody's suspicions. Then, +when Demetrios's sail does heave in sight, do you stroll leisurely +away and up-town. All the fishermen will think you're beaten and +that you know you're beaten." + +"So far, so good," Charley commented, while I paused to catch +breath. + +"And very good indeed," I continued proudly. "You stroll +carelessly up-town, but when you're once out of sight you leg it +for all you're worth for Dan Maloney's. Take the little mare of +his, and strike out on the country road for Vallejo. The road's in +fine condition, and you can make it in quicker time than Demetrios +can beat all the way down against the wind." + +"And I'll arrange right away for the mare, first thing in the +morning," Charley said, accepting the modified plan without +hesitation. + +"But, I say," he said, a little later, this time waking ME out of a +sound sleep. + +I could hear him chuckling in the dark. + +"I say, lad, isn't it rather a novelty for the fish patrol to be +taking to horseback?" + +"Imagination," I answered. "It's what you're always preaching-- +'keep thinking one thought ahead of the other fellow, and you're +bound to win out.'" + +"He! he!" he chuckled. "And if one thought ahead, including a +mare, doesn't take the other fellow's breath away this time, I'm +not your humble servant, Charley Le Grant." + +"But can you manage the boat alone?" he asked, on Friday. +"Remember, we've a ripping big sail on her." + +I argued my proficiency so well that he did not refer to the matter +again till Saturday, when he suggested removing one whole cloth +from the after leech. I guess it was the disappointment written on +my face that made him desist; for I, also, had a pride in my boat- +sailing abilities, and I was almost wild to get out alone with the +big sail and go tearing down the Carquinez Straits in the wake of +the flying Greek. + +As usual, Sunday and Demetrios Contos arrived together. It had +become the regular thing for the fishermen to assemble on Steamboat +Wharf to greet his arrival and to laugh at our discomfiture. He +lowered sail a couple of hundred yards out and set his customary +fifty feet of rotten net. + +"I suppose this nonsense will keep up as long as his old net holds +out," Charley grumbled, with intention, in the hearing of several +of the Greeks. + +"Den I give-a heem my old-a net-a," one of them spoke up, promptly +and maliciously, + +"I don't care," Charley answered. "I've got some old net myself he +can have--if he'll come around and ask for it." + +They all laughed at this, for they could afford to be sweet- +tempered with a man so badly outwitted as Charley was. + +"Well, so long, lad," Charley called to me a moment later. "I +think I'll go up-town to Maloney's." + +"Let me take the boat out?" I asked. + +"If you want to," was his answer, as he turned on his heel and +walked slowly away. + +Demetrios pulled two large salmon out of his net, and I jumped into +the boat. The fishermen crowded around in a spirit of fun, and +when I started to get up sail overwhelmed me with all sorts of +jocular advice. They even offered extravagant bets to one another +that I would surely catch Demetrios, and two of them, styling +themselves the committee of judges, gravely asked permission to +come along with me to see how I did it. + +But I was in no hurry. I waited to give Charley all the time I +could, and I pretended dissatisfaction with the stretch of the sail +and slightly shifted the small tackle by which the huge sprit +forces up the peak. It was not until I was sure that Charley had +reached Dan Maloney's and was on the little mare's back, that I +cast off from the wharf and gave the big sail to the wind. A stout +puff filled it and suddenly pressed the lee gunwale down till a +couple of buckets of water came inboard. A little thing like this +will happen to the best small-boat sailors, and yet, though I +instantly let go the sheet and righted, I was cheered +sarcastically, as though I had been guilty of a very awkward +blunder. + +When Demetrios saw only one person in the fish patrol boat, and +that one a boy, he proceeded to play with me. Making a short tack +out, with me not thirty feet behind, he returned, with his sheet a +little free, to Steamboat Wharf. And there he made short tacks, +and turned and twisted and ducked around, to the great delight of +his sympathetic audience. I was right behind him all the time, and +I dared to do whatever he did, even when he squared away before the +wind and jibed his big sail over--a most dangerous trick with such +a sail in such a wind. + +He depended upon the brisk sea breeze and the strong ebb-tide, +which together kicked up a nasty sea, to bring me to grief. But I +was on my mettle, and never in all my life did I sail a boat better +than on that day. I was keyed up to concert pitch, my brain was +working smoothly and quickly, my hands never fumbled once, and it +seemed that I almost divined the thousand little things which a +small-boat sailor must be taking into consideration every second. + +It was Demetrios who came to grief instead. Something went wrong +with his centre-board, so that it jammed in the case and would not +go all the way down. In a moment's breathing space, which he had +gained from me by a clever trick, I saw him working impatiently +with the centre-board, trying to force it down. I gave him little +time, and he was compelled quickly to return to the tiller and +sheet. + +The centre-board made him anxious. He gave over playing with me, +and started on the long beat to Vallejo. To my joy, on the first +long tack across, I found that I could eat into the wind just a +little bit closer than he. Here was where another man in the boat +would have been of value to him; for, with me but a few feet +astern, he did not dare let go the tiller and run amidships to try +to force down the centre-board. + +Unable to hang on as close in the eye of the wind as formerly, he +proceeded to slack his sheet a trifle and to ease off a bit, in +order to outfoot me. This I permitted him to do till I had worked +to windward, when I bore down upon him. As I drew close, he +feinted at coming about. This led me to shoot into the wind to +forestall him. But it was only a feint, cleverly executed, and he +held back to his course while I hurried to make up lost ground. + +He was undeniably smarter than I when it came to manoeuvring. Time +after time I all but had him, and each time he tricked me and +escaped. Besides, the wind was freshening, constantly, and each of +us had his hands full to avoid capsizing. As for my boat, it could +not have been kept afloat but for the extra ballast. I sat cocked +over the weather gunwale, tiller in one hand and sheet in the +other; and the sheet, with a single turn around a pin, I was very +often forced to let go in the severer puffs. This allowed the sail +to spill the wind, which was equivalent to taking off so much +driving power, and of course I lost ground. My consolation was +that Demetrios was as often compelled to do the same thing. + +The strong ebb-tide, racing down the Straits in the teeth of the +wind, caused an unusually heavy and spiteful sea, which dashed +aboard continually. I was dripping wet, and even the sail was wet +half-way up the after leech. Once I did succeed in outmanoeuvring +Demetrios, so that my bow bumped into him amidships. Here was +where I should have had another man. Before I could run forward +and leap aboard, he shoved the boats apart with an oar, laughing +mockingly in my face as he did so. + +We were now at the mouth of the Straits, in a bad stretch of water. +Here the Vallejo Straits and the Carquinez Straits rushed directly +at each other. Through the first flowed all the water of Napa +River and the great tide-lands; through the second flowed all the +water of Suisun Bay and the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers. And +where such immense bodies of water, flowing swiftly, clashed +together, a terrible tide-rip was produced. To make it worse, the +wind howled up San Pablo Bay for fifteen miles and drove in a +tremendous sea upon the tide-rip. + +Conflicting currents tore about in all directions, colliding, +forming whirlpools, sucks, and boils, and shooting up spitefully +into hollow waves which fell aboard as often from leeward as from +windward. And through it all, confused, driven into a madness of +motion, thundered the great smoking seas from San Pablo Bay. + +I was as wildly excited as the water. The boat was behaving +splendidly, leaping and lurching through the welter like a race- +horse. I could hardly contain myself with the joy of it. The huge +sail, the howling wind, the driving seas, the plunging boat--I, a +pygmy, a mere speck in the midst of it, was mastering the elemental +strife, flying through it and over it, triumphant and victorious. + +And just then, as I roared along like a conquering hero, the boat +received a frightful smash and came instantly to a dead stop. I +was flung forward and into the bottom. As I sprang up I caught a +fleeting glimpse of a greenish, barnacle-covered object, and knew +it at once for what it was, that terror of navigation, a sunken +pile. No man may guard against such a thing. Water-logged and +floating just beneath the surface, it was impossible to sight it in +the troubled water in time to escape. + +The whole bow of the boat must have been crushed in, for in a few +seconds the boat was half full. Then a couple of seas filled it, +and it sank straight down, dragged to bottom by the heavy ballast. +So quickly did it all happen that I was entangled in the sail and +drawn under. When I fought my way to the surface, suffocating, my +lungs almost bursting, I could see nothing of the oars. They must +have been swept away by the chaotic currents. I saw Demetrios +Contos looking back from his boat, and heard the vindictive and +mocking tones of his voice as he shouted exultantly. He held +steadily on his course, leaving me to perish. + +There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that wild +confusion, was at the best a matter of but a few moments. Holding +my breath and working with my hands, I managed to get off my heavy +sea-boots and my jacket. Yet there was very little breath I could +catch to hold, and I swiftly discovered that it was not so much a +matter of swimming as of breathing. + +I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo +whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which flung +themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the strange sucks +would grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce +boiling, where, even as I tried to catch my breath, a great +whitecap would crash down upon my head. + +It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was breathing +more water than air, and drowning all the time. My senses began to +leave me, my head to whirl around. I struggled on, spasmodically, +instinctively, and was barely half conscious when I felt myself +caught by the shoulders and hauled over the gunwale of a boat. + +For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face +downward, and with the water running out of my mouth. After a +while, still weak and faint, I turned around to see who was my +rescuer. And there, in the stern, sheet in one hand and tiller in +the other, grinning and nodding good-naturedly, sat Demetrios +Contos. He had intended to leave me to drown,--he said so +afterward,--but his better self had fought the battle, conquered, +and sent him back to me. + +"You all-a right?" he asked. + +I managed to shape a "yes" on my lips, though I could not yet +speak. + +"You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a," he said. "So good-a as a man." + +A compliment from Demetrios Contos was a compliment indeed, and I +keenly appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in +acknowledgment. + +We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he was +busy with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, made the +boat fast, and helped me out. Then it was, as we both stood on the +wharf, that Charley stepped out from behind a net-rack and put his +hand on Demetrios Contos's arm. + +"He saved my life, Charley," I protested; "and I don't think he +ought to be arrested." + +A puzzled expression came into Charley's face, which cleared +immediately after, in a way it had when he made up his mind. + +"I can't help it, lad," he said kindly. "I can't go back on my +duty, and it's plain duty to arrest him. To-day is Sunday; there +are two salmon in his boat which he caught to-day. What else can I +do?" + +"But he saved my life," I persisted, unable to make any other +argument. + +Demetrios Contos's face went black with rage when he learned +Charley's judgment. He had a sense of being unfairly treated. The +better part of his nature had triumphed, he had performed a +generous act and saved a helpless enemy, and in return the enemy +was taking him to jail. + +Charley and I were out of sorts with each other when we went back +to Benicia. I stood for the spirit of the law and not the letter; +but by the letter Charley made his stand. As far as he could see, +there was nothing else for him to do. The law said distinctly that +no salmon should be caught on Sunday. He was a patrolman, and it +was his duty to enforce that law. That was all there was to it. +He had done his duty, and his conscience was clear. Nevertheless, +the whole thing seemed unjust to me, and I felt very sorry for +Demetrios Contos. + +Two days later we went down to Vallejo to the trial. I had to go +along as a witness, and it was the most hateful task that I ever +performed in my life when I testified on the witness stand to +seeing Demetrios catch the two salmon Charley had captured him +with. + +Demetrios had engaged a lawyer, but his case was hopeless. The +jury was out only fifteen minutes, and returned a verdict of +guilty. The judge sentenced Demetrios to pay a fine of one hundred +dollars or go to jail for fifty days. + +Charley stepped up to the clerk of the court. "I want to pay that +fine," he said, at the same time placing five twenty-dollar gold +pieces on the desk. "It--it was the only way out of it, lad," he +stammered, turning to me. + +The moisture rushed into my eyes as I seized his hand. "I want to +pay--" I began. + +"To pay your half?" he interrupted. "I certainly shall expect you +to pay it." + +In the meantime Demetrios had been informed by his lawyer that his +fee likewise had been paid by Charley. + +Demetrios came over to shake Charley's hand, and all his warm +Southern blood flamed in his face. Then, not to be outdone in +generosity, he insisted on paying his fine and lawyer's fee +himself, and flew half-way into a passion because Charley refused +to let him. + +More than anything else we ever did, I think, this action of +Charley's impressed upon the fishermen the deeper significance of +the law. Also Charley was raised high in their esteem, while I +came in for a little share of praise as a boy who knew how to sail +a boat. Demetrios Contos not only never broke the law again, but +he became a very good friend of ours, and on more than one occasion +he ran up to Benicia to have a gossip with us. + + + +YELLOW HANDKERCHIEF + + + +"I'm not wanting to dictate to you, lad," Charley said; "but I'm +very much against your making a last raid. You've gone safely +through rough times with rough men, and it would be a shame to have +something happen to you at the very end." + +"But how can I get out of making a last raid?" I demanded, with the +cocksureness of youth. "There always has to be a last, you know, +to anything." + +Charley crossed his legs, leaned back, and considered the problem. +"Very true. But why not call the capture of Demetrios Contos the +last? You're back from it safe and sound and hearty, for all your +good wetting, and--and--" His voice broke and he could not speak +for a moment. "And I could never forgive myself if anything +happened to you now." + +I laughed at Charley's fears while I gave in to the claims of his +affection, and agreed to consider the last raid already performed. +We had been together for two years, and now I was leaving the fish +patrol in order to go back and finish my education. I had earned +and saved money to put me through three years at the high school, +and though the beginning of the term was several months away, I +intended doing a lot of studying for the entrance examinations. + +My belongings were packed snugly in a sea-chest, and I was all +ready to buy my ticket and ride down on the train to Oakland, when +Neil Partington arrived in Benicia. The Reindeer was needed +immediately for work far down on the Lower Bay, and Neil said he +intended to run straight for Oakland. As that was his home and as +I was to live with his family while going to school, he saw no +reason, he said, why I should not put my chest aboard and come +along. + +So the chest went aboard, and in the middle of the afternoon we +hoisted the Reindeer's big mainsail and cast off. It was +tantalizing fall weather. The sea-breeze, which had blown steadily +all summer, was gone, and in its place were capricious winds and +murky skies which made the time of arriving anywhere extremely +problematical. We started on the first of the ebb, and as we +slipped down the Carquinez Straits, I looked my last for some time +upon Benicia and the bight at Turner's Shipyard, where we had +besieged the Lancashire Queen, and had captured Big Alec, the King +of the Greeks. And at the mouth of the Straits I looked with not a +little interest upon the spot where a few days before I should have +drowned but for the good that was in the nature of Demetrios +Contos. + +A great wall of fog advanced across San Pablo Bay to meet us, and +in a few minutes the Reindeer was running blindly through the damp +obscurity. Charley, who was steering, seemed to have an instinct +for that kind of work. How he did it, he himself confessed that he +did not know; but he had a way of calculating winds, currents, +distance, time, drift, and sailing speed that was truly marvellous. + +"It looks as though it were lifting," Neil Partington said, a +couple of hours after we had entered the fog. "Where do you say we +are, Charley?" + +Charley looked at his watch, "Six o'clock, and three hours more of +ebb," he remarked casually. + +"But where do you say we are?" Neil insisted. + +Charley pondered a moment, and then answered, "The tide has edged +us over a bit out of our course, but if the fog lifts right now, as +it is going to lift, you'll find we're not more than a thousand +miles off McNear's Landing." + +"You might be a little more definite by a few miles, anyway," Neil +grumbled, showing by his tone that he disagreed. + +"All right, then," Charley said, conclusively, "not less than a +quarter of a mile, not more than a half." + +The wind freshened with a couple of little puffs, and the fog +thinned perceptibly. + +"McNear's is right off there," Charley said, pointing directly into +the fog on our weather beam. + +The three of us were peering intently in that direction, when the +Reindeer struck with a dull crash and came to a standstill. We ran +forward, and found her bowsprit entangled in the tanned rigging of +a short, chunky mast. She had collided, head on, with a Chinese +junk lying at anchor. + +At the moment we arrived forward, five Chinese, like so many bees, +came swarming out of the little 'tween-decks cabin, the sleep still +in their eyes. + +Leading them came a big, muscular man, conspicuous for his pock- +marked face and the yellow silk handkerchief swathed about his +head. It was Yellow Handkerchief, the Chinaman whom we had +arrested for illegal shrimp-fishing the year before, and who, at +that time, had nearly sunk the Reindeer, as he had nearly sunk it +now by violating the rules of navigation. + +"What d'ye mean, you yellow-faced heathen, lying here in a fairway +without a horn a-going?" Charley cried hotly. + +"Mean?" Neil calmly answered. "Just take a look--that's what he +means." + +Our eyes followed the direction indicated by Neil's finger, and we +saw the open amidships of the junk, half filled, as we found on +closer examination, with fresh-caught shrimps. Mingled with the +shrimps were myriads of small fish, from a quarter of an inch +upward in size. + +Yellow Handkerchief had lifted the trap-net at high-water slack, +and, taking advantage of the concealment offered by the fog, had +boldly been lying by, waiting to lift the net again at low-water +slack. + +"Well," Neil hummed and hawed, "in all my varied and extensive +experience as a fish patrolman, I must say this is the easiest +capture I ever made. What'll we do with them, Charley?" + +"Tow the junk into San Rafael, of course," came the answer. +Charley turned to me. "You stand by the junk, lad, and I'll pass +you a towing line. If the wind doesn't fail us, we'll make the +creek before the tide gets too low, sleep at San Rafael, and arrive +in Oakland to-morrow by midday." + +So saying, Charley and Neil returned to the Reindeer and got under +way, the junk towing astern. I went aft and took charge of the +prize, steering by means of an antiquated tiller and a rudder with +large, diamond-shaped holes, through which the water rushed back +and forth. + +By now the last of the fog had vanished, and Charley's estimate of +our position was confirmed by the sight of McNear's Landing a short +half-mile away. Following along the west shore, we rounded Point +Pedro in plain view of the Chinese shrimp villages, and a great to- +do was raised when they saw one of their junks towing behind the +familiar fish patrol sloop. + +The wind, coming off the land, was rather puffy and uncertain, and +it would have been more to our advantage had it been stronger. San +Rafael Creek, up which we had to go to reach the town and turn over +our prisoners to the authorities, ran through wide-stretching +marshes, and was difficult to navigate on a falling tide, while at +low tide it was impossible to navigate at all. So, with the tide +already half-ebbed, it was necessary for us to make time. This the +heavy junk prevented, lumbering along behind and holding the +Reindeer back by just so much dead weight. + +"Tell those coolies to get up that sail," Charley finally called to +me. "We don't want to hang up on the mud flats for the rest of the +night." + +I repeated the order to Yellow Handkerchief, who mumbled it huskily +to his men. He was suffering from a bad cold, which doubled him up +in convulsive coughing spells and made his eyes heavy and +bloodshot. This made him more evil-looking than ever, and when he +glared viciously at me I remembered with a shiver the close shave I +had had with him at the time of his previous arrest. + +His crew sullenly tailed on to the halyards, and the strange, +outlandish sail, lateen in rig and dyed a warm brown, rose in the +air. We were sailing on the wind, and when Yellow Handkerchief +flattened down the sheet the junk forged ahead and the tow-line +went slack. Fast as the Reindeer could sail, the junk outsailed +her; and to avoid running her down I hauled a little closer on the +wind. But the junk likewise outpointed, and in a couple of minutes +I was abreast of the Reindeer and to windward. The tow-line had +now tautened, at right angles to the two boats, and the predicament +was laughable. + +"Cast off!" I shouted. + +Charley hesitated. + +"It's all right," I added. "Nothing can happen. We'll make the +creek on this tack, and you'll be right behind me all the way up to +San Rafael." + +At this Charley cast off, and Yellow Handkerchief sent one of his +men forward to haul in the line. In the gathering darkness I could +just make out the mouth of San Rafael Creek, and by the time we +entered it I could barely see its banks. The Reindeer was fully +five minutes astern, and we continued to leave her astern as we +beat up the narrow, winding channel. With Charley behind us, it +seemed I had little to fear from my five prisoners; but the +darkness prevented my keeping a sharp eye on them, so I transferred +my revolver from my trousers pocket to the side pocket of my coat, +where I could more quickly put my hand on it. + +Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared, and that he knew it and +made use of it, subsequent events will show. He was sitting a few +feet away from me, on what then happened to be the weather side of +the junk. I could scarcely see the outlines of his form, but I +soon became convinced that he was slowly, very slowly, edging +closer to me. I watched him carefully. Steering with my left +hand, I slipped my right into my pocket and got hold of the +revolver. + +I saw him shift along for a couple of inches, and I was just about +to order him back--the words were trembling on the tip of my +tongue--when I was struck with great force by a heavy figure that +had leaped through the air upon me from the lee side. It was one +of the crew. He pinioned my right arm so that I could not withdraw +my hand from my pocket, and at the same time clapped his other hand +over my mouth. Of course, I could have struggled away from him and +freed my hand or gotten my mouth clear so that I might cry an +alarm, but in a trice Yellow Handkerchief was on top of me. + +I struggled around to no purpose in the bottom of the junk, while +my legs and arms were tied and my mouth securely bound in what I +afterward found to be a cotton shirt. Then I was left lying in the +bottom. Yellow Handkerchief took the tiller, issuing his orders in +whispers; and from our position at the time, and from the +alteration of the sail, which I could dimly make out above me as a +blot against the stars, I knew the junk was being headed into the +mouth of a small slough which emptied at that point into San Rafael +Creek. + +In a couple of minutes we ran softly alongside the bank, and the +sail was silently lowered. The Chinese kept very quiet. Yellow +Handkerchief sat down in the bottom alongside of me, and I could +feel him straining to repress his raspy, hacking cough. Possibly +seven or eight minutes later I heard Charley's voice as the +Reindeer went past the mouth of the slough. + +"I can't tell you how relieved I am," I could plainly hear him +saying to Neil, "that the lad has finished with the fish patrol +without accident." + +Here Neil said something which I could not catch, and then +Charley's voice went on: + +"The youngster takes naturally to the water, and if, when he +finishes high school, he takes a course in navigation and goes deep +sea, I see no reason why he shouldn't rise to be master of the +finest and biggest ship afloat." + +It was all very flattering to me, but lying there, bound and gagged +by my own prisoners, with the voices growing faint and fainter as +the Reindeer slipped on through the darkness toward San Rafael, I +must say I was not in quite the proper situation to enjoy my +smiling future. With the Reindeer went my last hope. What was to +happen next I could not imagine, for the Chinese were a different +race from mine, and from what I knew I was confident that fair play +was no part of their make-up. + +After waiting a few minutes longer, the crew hoisted the lateen +sail, and Yellow Handkerchief steered down toward the mouth of San +Rafael Creek. The tide was getting lower, and he had difficulty in +escaping the mud-banks. I was hoping he would run aground, but he +succeeded in making the Bay without accident. + +As we passed out of the creek a noisy discussion arose, which I +knew related to me. Yellow Handkerchief was vehement, but the +other four as vehemently opposed him. It was very evident that he +advocated doing away with me and that they were afraid of the +consequences. I was familiar enough with the Chinese character to +know that fear alone restrained them. But what plan they offered +in place of Yellow Handkerchief's murderous one, I could not make +out. + +My feelings, as my fate hung in the balance, may be guessed. The +discussion developed into a quarrel, in the midst of which Yellow +Handkerchief unshipped the heavy tiller and sprang toward me. But +his four companions threw themselves between, and a clumsy struggle +took place for possession of the tiller. In the end Yellow +Handkerchief was overcome, and sullenly returned to the steering, +while they soundly berated him for his rashness. + +Not long after, the sail was run down and the junk slowly urged +forward by means of the sweeps. I felt it ground gently on the +soft mud. Three of the Chinese--they all wore long sea-boots--got +over the side, and the other two passed me across the rail. With +Yellow Handkerchief at my legs and his two companions at my +shoulders, they began to flounder along through the mud. After +some time their feet struck firmer footing, and I knew they were +carrying me up some beach. The location of this beach was not +doubtful in my mind. It could be none other than one of the Marin +Islands, a group of rocky islets which lay off the Marin County +shore. + +When they reached the firm sand that marked high tide, I was +dropped, and none too gently. Yellow Handkerchief kicked me +spitefully in the ribs, and then the trio floundered back through +the mud to the junk. A moment later I heard the sail go up and +slat in the wind as they drew in the sheet. Then silence fell, and +I was left to my own devices for getting free. + +I remembered having seen tricksters writhe and squirm out of ropes +with which they were bound, but though I writhed and squirmed like +a good fellow, the knots remained as hard as ever, and there was no +appreciable slack. In the course of my squirming, however, I +rolled over upon a heap of clam-shells--the remains, evidently, of +some yachting party's clam-bake. This gave me an idea. My hands +were tied behind my back; and, clutching a shell in them, I rolled +over and over, up the beach, till I came to the rocks I knew to be +there. + +Rolling around and searching, I finally discovered a narrow +crevice, into which I shoved the shell. The edge of it was sharp, +and across the sharp edge I proceeded to saw the rope that bound my +wrists. The edge of the shell was also brittle, and I broke it by +bearing too heavily upon it. Then I rolled back to the heap and +returned with as many shells as I could carry in both hands. I +broke many shells, cut my hands a number of times, and got cramps +in my legs from my strained position and my exertions. + +While I was suffering from the cramps, and resting, I heard a +familiar halloo drift across the water. It was Charley, searching +for me. The gag in my mouth prevented me from replying, and I +could only lie there, helplessly fuming, while he rowed past the +island and his voice slowly lost itself in the distance. + +I returned to the sawing process, and at the end of half an hour +succeeded in severing the rope. The rest was easy. My hands once +free, it was a matter of minutes to loosen my legs and to take the +gag out of my mouth. I ran around the island to make sure it WAS +an island and not by any chance a portion of the mainland. An +island it certainly was, one of the Marin group, fringed with a +sandy beach and surrounded by a sea of mud. Nothing remained but +to wait till daylight and to keep warm; for it was a cold, raw +night for California, with just enough wind to pierce the skin and +cause one to shiver. + +To keep up the circulation, I ran around the island a dozen times +or so, and clambered across its rocky backbone as many times more-- +all of which was of greater service to me, as I afterward +discovered, than merely to warm me up. In the midst of this +exercise I wondered if I had lost anything out of my pockets while +rolling over and over in the sand. A search showed the absence of +my revolver and pocket-knife. The first Yellow Handkerchief had +taken; but the knife had been lost in the sand. + +I was hunting for it when the sound of rowlocks came to my ears. +At first, of course, I thought of Charley; but on second thought I +knew Charley would be calling out as he rowed along. A sudden +premonition of danger seized me. The Marin Islands are lonely +places; chance visitors in the dead of night are hardly to be +expected. What if it were Yellow Handkerchief? The sound made by +the rowlocks grew more distinct. I crouched in the sand and +listened intently. The boat, which I judged a small skiff from the +quick stroke of the oars, was landing in the mud about fifty yards +up the beach. I heard a raspy, hacking cough, and my heart stood +still. It was Yellow Handkerchief. Not to be robbed of his +revenge by his more cautious companions, he had stolen away from +the village and come back alone. + +I did some swift thinking. I was unarmed and helpless on a tiny +islet, and a yellow barbarian, whom I had reason to fear, was +coming after me. Any place was safer than the island, and I turned +instinctively to the water, or rather to the mud. As he began to +flounder ashore through the mud, I started to flounder out into it, +going over the same course which the Chinese had taken in landing +me and in returning to the junk. + +Yellow Handkerchief, believing me to be lying tightly bound, +exercised no care, but came ashore noisily. This helped me, for, +under the shield of his noise and making no more myself than +necessary, I managed to cover fifty feet by the time he had made +the beach. Here I lay down in the mud. It was cold and clammy, +and made me shiver, but I did not care to stand up and run the risk +of being discovered by his sharp eyes. + +He walked down the beach straight to where he had left me lying, +and I had a fleeting feeling of regret at not being able to see his +surprise when he did not find me. But it was a very fleeting +regret, for my teeth were chattering with the cold. + +What his movements were after that I had largely to deduce from the +facts of the situation, for I could scarcely see him in the dim +starlight. But I was sure that the first thing he did was to make +the circuit of the beach to learn if landings had been made by +other boats. This he would have known at once by the tracks +through the mud. + +Convinced that no boat had removed me from the island, he next +started to find out what had become of me. Beginning at the pile +of clamshells, he lighted matches to trace my tracks in the sand. +At such times I could see his villanous face plainly, and, when the +sulphur from the matches irritated his lungs, between the raspy +cough that followed and the clammy mud in which I was lying, I +confess I shivered harder than ever. + +The multiplicity of my footprints puzzled him. Then the idea that +I might be out in the mud must have struck him, for he waded out a +few yards in my direction, and, stooping, with his eyes searched +the dim surface long and carefully. He could not have been more +than fifteen feet from me, and had he lighted a match he would +surely have discovered me. + +He returned to the beach and clambered about, over the rocky +backbone, again hunting for me with lighted matches, The closeness +of the shave impelled me to further flight. Not daring to wade +upright, on account of the noise made by floundering and by the +suck of the mud, I remained lying down in the mud and propelled +myself over its surface by means of my hands. Still keeping the +trail made by the Chinese in going from and to the junk, I held on +until I reached the water. Into this I waded to a depth of three +feet, and then I turned off to the side on a line parallel with the +beach. + +The thought came to me of going toward Yellow Handkerchief's skiff +and escaping in it, but at that very moment he returned to the +beach, and, as though fearing the very thing I had in mind, he +slushed out through the mud to assure himself that the skiff was +safe. This turned me in the opposite direction. Half swimming, +half wading, with my head just out of water and avoiding splashing, +I succeeded in putting about a hundred feet between myself and the +spot where the Chinese had begun to wade ashore from the junk. I +drew myself out on the mud and remained lying flat. + +Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a search +of the island, and again he returned to the heap of clam-shells. I +knew what was running in his mind as well as he did himself. No +one could leave or land without making tracks in the mud. The only +tracks to be seen were those leading from his skiff and from where +the junk had been. I was not on the island. I must have left it +by one or the other of those two tracks. He had just been over the +one to his skiff, and was certain I had not left that way. +Therefore I could have left the island only by going over the +tracks of the junk landing. This he proceeded to verify by wading +out over them himself, lighting matches as he came along. + +When he arrived at the point where I had first lain, I knew, by the +matches he burned and the time he took, that he had discovered the +marks left by my body. These he followed straight to the water and +into it, but in three feet of water he could no longer see them. +On the other hand, as the tide was still falling, he could easily +make out the impression made by the junk's bow, and could have +likewise made out the impression of any other boat if it had landed +at that particular spot. But there was no such mark; and I knew +that he was absolutely convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the +mud. + +But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like +hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt it. +Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time. +I was hoping he would give me up and go, for by this time I was +suffering severely from the cold. At last he waded out to his +skiff and rowed away. What if this departure of Yellow +Handkerchief's were a sham? What if he had done it merely to +entice me ashore? + +The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had made +a little too much noise with his oars as he rowed away. So I +remained, lying in the mud and shivering. I shivered till the +muscles of the small of my back ached and pained me as badly as the +cold, and I had need of all my self-control to force myself to +remain in my miserable situation. + +It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, I +thought I could make out something moving on the beach. I watched +intently, but my ears were rewarded first, by a raspy cough I knew +only too well. Yellow Handkerchief had sneaked back, landed on the +other side of the island, and crept around to surprise me if I had +returned. + +After that, though hours passed without sign of him, I was afraid +to return to the island at all. On the other hand, I was almost +equally afraid that I should die of the exposure I was undergoing. +I had never dreamed one could suffer so. I grew so cold and numb, +finally, that I ceased to shiver. But my muscles and bones began +to ache in a way that was agony. The tide had long since begun to +rise, and, foot by foot, it drove me in toward the beach. High +water came at three o'clock, and at three o'clock I drew myself up +on the beach, more dead than alive, and too helpless to have +offered any resistance had Yellow Handkerchief swooped down upon +me. + +But no Yellow Handkerchief appeared. He had given me up and gone +back to Point Pedro. Nevertheless, I was in a deplorable, not to +say dangerous, condition. I could not stand upon my feet, much +less walk. My clammy, muddy garments clung to me like sheets of +ice. I thought I should never get them off. So numb and lifeless +were my fingers, and so weak was I, that it seemed to take an hour +to get off my shoes. I had not the strength to break the porpoise- +hide laces, and the knots defied me. I repeatedly beat my hands +upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them. Sometimes I +felt sure I was going to die. + +But in the end,--after several centuries, it seemed to me,--I got +off the last of my clothes. The water was now close at hand, and I +crawled painfully into it and washed the mud from my naked body. +Still, I could not get on my feet and walk and I was afraid to lie +still. Nothing remained but to crawl weakly, like a snail, and at +the cost of constant pain, up and down the sand. I kept this up as +long as possible, but as the east paled with the coming of dawn I +began to succumb. The sky grew rosy-red, and the golden rim of the +sun, showing above the horizon, found me lying helpless and +motionless among the clam-shells. + +As in a dream, I saw the familiar mainsail of the Reindeer as she +slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light puff of morning air. +This dream was very much broken. There are intervals I can never +recollect on looking back over it. Three things, however, I +distinctly remember: the first sight of the Reindeer's mainsail; +her lying at anchor a few hundred feet away and a small boat +leaving her side; and the cabin stove roaring red-hot, myself +swathed all over with blankets, except on the chest and shoulders, +which Charley was pounding and mauling unmercifully, and my mouth +and throat burning with the coffee which Neil Partington was +pouring down a trifle too hot. + +But burn or no burn, I tell you it felt good. By the time we +arrived in Oakland I was as limber and strong as ever,--though +Charlie and Neil Partington were afraid I was going to have +pneumonia, and Mrs. Partington, for my first six months of school, +kept an anxious eye upon me to discover the first symptoms of +consumption. + +Time flies. It seems but yesterday that I was a lad of sixteen on +the fish patrol. Yet I know that I arrived this very morning from +China, with a quick passage to my credit, and master of the +barkentine Harvester. And I know that to-morrow morning I shall +run over to Oakland to see Neil Partington and his wife and family, +and later on up to Benicia to see Charley Le Grant and talk over +old times. No; I shall not go to Benicia, now that I think about +it. I expect to be a highly interested party to a wedding, shortly +to take place. Her name is Alice Partington, and, since Charley +has promised to be best man, he will have to come down to Oakland +instead. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES OF THE FISH PATROL *** + +This file should be named totfp10.txt or totfp10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, totfp11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, totfp10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + + PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION + 809 North 1500 West + Salt Lake City, UT 84116 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/totfp10.zip b/old/totfp10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5627a4d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/totfp10.zip diff --git a/old/totfp10h.htm b/old/totfp10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3c94be --- /dev/null +++ b/old/totfp10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3242 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Tales of the Fish Patrol</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales of the Fish Patrol, by Jack London +(#8 in our series by Jack London) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Tales of the Fish Patrol + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #911] +[This file was first posted on March 22, 1997] +[Most recently updated: May 12, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1914 edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>Tales of the Fish Patrol</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2>WHITE AND YELLOW</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>San Francisco Bay is so large that often its storms are more disastrous +to ocean-going craft than is the ocean itself in its violent moments. +The waters of the bay contain all manner of fish, wherefore its surface +is ploughed by the keels of all manner of fishing boats manned by all +manner of fishermen. To protect the fish from this motley floating +population many wise laws have been passed, and there is a fish patrol +to see that these laws are enforced. Exciting times are the lot +of the fish patrol: in its history more than one dead patrolman has +marked defeat, and more often dead fishermen across their illegal nets +have marked success.</p> +<p>Wildest among the fisher-folk may be accounted the Chinese shrimp-catchers. +It is the habit of the shrimp to crawl along the bottom in vast armies +till it reaches fresh water, when it turns about and crawls back again +to the salt. And where the tide ebbs and flows, the Chinese sink +great bag-nets to the bottom, with gaping mouths, into which the shrimp +crawls and from which it is transferred to the boiling-pot. This +in itself would not be bad, were it not for the small mesh of the nets, +so small that the tiniest fishes, little new-hatched things not a quarter +of an inch long, cannot pass through. The beautiful beaches of +Points Pedro and Pablo, where are the shrimp-catchers’ villages, +are made fearful by the stench from myriads of decaying fish, and against +this wasteful destruction it has ever been the duty of the fish patrol +to act.</p> +<p>When I was a youngster of sixteen, a good sloop-sailor and all-round +bay-waterman, my sloop, the <i>Reindeer</i>, was chartered by the Fish +Commission, and I became for the time being a deputy patrolman. +After a deal of work among the Greek fishermen of the Upper Bay and +rivers, where knives flashed at the beginning of trouble and men permitted +themselves to be made prisoners only after a revolver was thrust in +their faces, we hailed with delight an expedition to the Lower Bay against +the Chinese shrimp-catchers.</p> +<p>There were six of us, in two boats, and to avoid suspicion we ran +down after dark and dropped anchor under a projecting bluff of land +known as Point Pinole. As the east paled with the first light +of dawn we got under way again, and hauled close on the land breeze +as we slanted across the bay toward Point Pedro. The morning mists +curled and clung to the water so that we could see nothing, but we busied +ourselves driving the chill from our bodies with hot coffee. Also +we had to devote ourselves to the miserable task of bailing, for in +some incomprehensible way the <i>Reindeer</i> had sprung a generous +leak. Half the night had been spent in overhauling the ballast +and exploring the seams, but the labor had been without avail. +The water still poured in, and perforce we doubled up in the cockpit +and tossed it out again.</p> +<p>After coffee, three of the men withdrew to the other boat, a Columbia +River salmon boat, leaving three of us in the <i>Reindeer</i>. +Then the two craft proceeded in company till the sun showed over the +eastern sky-line. Its fiery rays dispelled the clinging vapors, +and there, before our eyes, like a picture, lay the shrimp fleet, spread +out in a great half-moon, the tips of the crescent fully three miles +apart, and each junk moored fast to the buoy of a shrimp-net. +But there was no stir, no sign of life.</p> +<p>The situation dawned upon us. While waiting for slack water, +in which to lift their heavy nets from the bed of the bay, the Chinese +had all gone to sleep below. We were elated, and our plan of battle +was swiftly formed.</p> +<p>“Throw each of your two men on to a junk,” whispered +Le Grant to me from the salmon boat. “And you make fast +to a third yourself. We’ll do the same, and there’s +no reason in the world why we shouldn’t capture six junks at the +least.”</p> +<p>Then we separated. I put the <i>Reindeer</i> about on the other +tack, ran up under the lee of a junk, shivered the mainsail into the +wind and lost headway, and forged past the stern of the junk so slowly +and so near that one of the patrolmen stepped lightly aboard. +Then I kept off, filled the mainsail, and bore away for a second junk.</p> +<p>Up to this time there had been no noise, but from the first junk +captured by the salmon boat an uproar now broke forth. There was +shrill Oriental yelling, a pistol shot, and more yelling.</p> +<p>“It’s all up. They’re warning the others,” +said George, the remaining patrolman, as he stood beside me in the cockpit.</p> +<p>By this time we were in the thick of the fleet, and the alarm was +spreading with incredible swiftness. The decks were beginning +to swarm with half-awakened and half-naked Chinese. Cries and +yells of warning and anger were flying over the quiet water, and somewhere +a conch shell was being blown with great success. To the right +of us I saw the captain of a junk chop away his mooring line with an +axe and spring to help his crew at the hoisting of the huge, outlandish +lug-sail. But to the left the first heads were popping up from +below on another junk, and I rounded up the <i>Reindeer</i> alongside +long enough for George to spring aboard.</p> +<p>The whole fleet was now under way. In addition to the sails +they had gotten out long sweeps, and the bay was being ploughed in every +direction by the fleeing junks. I was now alone in the <i>Reindeer</i>, +seeking feverishly to capture a third prize. The first junk I +took after was a clean miss, for it trimmed its sheets and shot away +surprisingly into the wind. By fully half a point it outpointed +the <i>Reindeer</i>, and I began to feel respect for the clumsy craft. +Realizing the hopelessness of the pursuit, I filled away, threw out +the main-sheet, and drove down before the wind upon the junks to leeward, +where I had them at a disadvantage.</p> +<p>The one I had selected wavered indecisively before me, and, as I +swung wide to make the boarding gentle, filled suddenly and darted away, +the smart Mongols shouting a wild rhythm as they bent to the sweeps. +But I had been ready for this. I luffed suddenly. Putting +the tiller hard down, and holding it down with my body, I brought the +main-sheet in, hand over hand, on the run, so as to retain all possible +striking force. The two starboard sweeps of the junk were crumpled +up, and then the two boats came together with a crash. The <i>Reindeer’s</i> +bowsprit, like a monstrous hand, reached over and ripped out the junk’s +chunky mast and towering sail.</p> +<p>This was met by a curdling yell of rage. A big Chinaman, remarkably +evil-looking, with his head swathed in a yellow silk handkerchief and +face badly pock-marked, planted a pike-pole on the <i>Reindeer’s</i> +bow and began to shove the entangled boats apart. Pausing long +enough to let go the jib halyards, and just as the <i>Reindeer</i> cleared +and began to drift astern, I leaped aboard the junk with a line and +made fast. He of the yellow handkerchief and pock-marked face +came toward me threateningly, but I put my hand into my hip pocket, +and he hesitated. I was unarmed, but the Chinese have learned +to be fastidiously careful of American hip pockets, and it was upon +this that I depended to keep him and his savage crew at a distance.</p> +<p>I ordered him to drop the anchor at the junk’s bow, to which +he replied, “No sabbe.” The crew responded in like +fashion, and though I made my meaning plain by signs, they refused to +understand. Realizing the inexpediency of discussing the matter, +I went forward myself, overran the line, and let the anchor go.</p> +<p>“Now get aboard, four of you,” I said in a loud voice, +indicating with my fingers that four of them were to go with me and +the fifth was to remain by the junk. The Yellow Handkerchief hesitated; +but I repeated the order fiercely (much more fiercely than I felt), +at the same time sending my hand to my hip. Again the Yellow Handkerchief +was overawed, and with surly looks he led three of his men aboard the +<i>Reindeer</i>. I cast off at once, and, leaving the jib down, +steered a course for George’s junk. Here it was easier, +for there were two of us, and George had a pistol to fall back on if +it came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, four Chinese +were transferred to the sloop and one left behind to take care of things.</p> +<p>Four more were added to our passenger list from the third junk. +By this time the salmon boat had collected its twelve prisoners and +came alongside, badly overloaded. To make matters worse, as it +was a small boat, the patrolmen were so jammed in with their prisoners +that they would have little chance in case of trouble.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to help us out,” said Le Grant.</p> +<p>I looked over my prisoners, who had crowded into the cabin and on +top of it. “I can take three,” I answered.</p> +<p>“Make it four,” he suggested, “and I’ll take +Bill with me.” (Bill was the third patrolman.) “We +haven’t elbow room here, and in case of a scuffle one white to +every two of them will be just about the right proportion.”</p> +<p>The exchange was made, and the salmon boat got up its spritsail and +headed down the bay toward the marshes off San Rafael. I ran up +the jib and followed with the <i>Reindeer</i>. San Rafael, where +we were to turn our catch over to the authorities, communicated with +the bay by way of a long and tortuous slough, or marshland creek, which +could be navigated only when the tide was in. Slack water had +come, and, as the ebb was commencing, there was need for hurry if we +cared to escape waiting half a day for the next tide.</p> +<p>But the land breeze had begun to die away with the rising sun, and +now came only in failing puffs. The salmon boat got out its oars +and soon left us far astern. Some of the Chinese stood in the +forward part of the cockpit, near the cabin doors, and once, as I leaned +over the cockpit rail to flatten down the jib-sheet a bit, I felt some +one brush against my hip pocket. I made no sign, but out of the +corner of my eye I saw that the Yellow Handkerchief had discovered the +emptiness of the pocket which had hitherto overawed him.</p> +<p>To make matters serious, during all the excitement of boarding the +junks the <i>Reindeer</i> had not been bailed, and the water was beginning +to slush over the cockpit floor. The shrimp-catchers pointed at +it and looked to me questioningly.</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said. “Bime by, allee same dlown, +velly quick, you no bail now. Sabbe?”</p> +<p>No, they did not “sabbe,” or at least they shook their +heads to that effect, though they chattered most comprehendingly to +one another in their own lingo. I pulled up three or four of the +bottom boards, got a couple of buckets from a locker, and by unmistakable +sign-language invited them to fall to. But they laughed, and some +crowded into the cabin and some climbed up on top.</p> +<p>Their laughter was not good laughter. There was a hint of menace +in it, a maliciousness which their black looks verified. The Yellow +Handkerchief, since his discovery of my empty pocket, had become most +insolent in his bearing, and he wormed about among the other prisoners, +talking to them with great earnestness.</p> +<p>Swallowing my chagrin, I stepped down into the cockpit and began +throwing out the water. But hardly had I begun, when the boom +swung overhead, the mainsail filled with a jerk, and the <i>Reindeer</i> +heeled over. The day wind was springing up. George was the +veriest of landlubbers, so I was forced to give over bailing and take +the tiller. The wind was blowing directly off Point Pedro and +the high mountains behind, and because of this was squally and uncertain, +half the time bellying the canvas out and the other half flapping it +idly.</p> +<p>George was about the most all-round helpless man I had ever met. +Among his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, and I knew that +if he attempted to bail, it might bring on a hemorrhage. Yet the +rising water warned me that something must be done. Again I ordered +the shrimp-catchers to lend a hand with the buckets. They laughed +defiantly, and those inside the cabin, the water up to their ankles, +shouted back and forth with those on top.</p> +<p>“You’d better get out your gun and make them bail,” +I said to George.</p> +<p>But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was afraid. +The Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as I could, and their +insolence became insufferable. Those in the cabin broke into the +food lockers, and those above scrambled down and joined them in a feast +on our crackers and canned goods.</p> +<p>“What do we care?” George said weakly.</p> +<p>I was fuming with helpless anger. “If they get out of +hand, it will be too late to care. The best thing you can do is +to get them in check right now.”</p> +<p>The water was rising higher and higher, and the gusts, forerunners +of a steady breeze, were growing stiffer and stiffer. And between +the gusts, the prisoners, having gotten away with a week’s grub, +took to crowding first to one side and then to the other till the <i>Reindeer</i> +rocked like a cockle-shell. Yellow Handkerchief approached me, +and, pointing out his village on the Point Pedro beach, gave me to understand +that if I turned the <i>Reindeer</i> in that direction and put them +ashore, they, in turn, would go to bailing. By now the water in +the cabin was up to the bunks, and the bed-clothes were sopping. +It was a foot deep on the cockpit floor. Nevertheless I refused, +and I could see by George’s face that he was disappointed.</p> +<p>“If you don’t show some nerve, they’ll rush us +and throw us overboard,” I said to him. “Better give +me your revolver, if you want to be safe.”</p> +<p>“The safest thing to do,” he chattered cravenly, “is +to put them ashore. I, for one, don’t want to be drowned +for the sake of a handful of dirty Chinamen.”</p> +<p>“And I, for another, don’t care to give in to a handful +of dirty Chinamen to escape drowning,” I answered hotly.</p> +<p>“You’ll sink the <i>Reindeer</i> under us all at this +rate,” he whined. “And what good that’ll do +I can’t see.”</p> +<p>“Every man to his taste,” I retorted.</p> +<p>He made no reply, but I could see he was trembling pitifully. +Between the threatening Chinese and the rising water he was beside himself +with fright; and, more than the Chinese and the water, I feared him +and what his fright might impel him to do. I could see him casting +longing glances at the small skiff towing astern, so in the next calm +I hauled the skiff alongside. As I did so his eyes brightened +with hope; but before he could guess my intention, I stove the frail +bottom through with a hand-axe, and the skiff filled to its gunwales.</p> +<p>“It’s sink or float together,” I said. “And +if you’ll give me your revolver, I’ll have the <i>Reindeer</i> +bailed out in a jiffy.”</p> +<p>“They’re too many for us,” he whimpered. +“We can’t fight them all.”</p> +<p>I turned my back on him in disgust. The salmon boat had long +since passed from sight behind a little archipelago known as the Marin +Islands, so no help could be looked for from that quarter. Yellow +Handkerchief came up to me in a familiar manner, the water in the cockpit +slushing against his legs. I did not like his looks. I felt +that beneath the pleasant smile he was trying to put on his face there +was an ill purpose. I ordered him back, and so sharply that he +obeyed.</p> +<p>“Now keep your distance,” I commanded, “and don’t +you come closer!”</p> +<p>“Wha’ fo’?” he demanded indignantly. +“I t’ink-um talkee talkee heap good.”</p> +<p>“Talkee talkee,” I answered bitterly, for I knew now +that he had understood all that passed between George and me. +“What for talkee talkee? You no sabbe talkee talkee.”</p> +<p>He grinned in a sickly fashion. “Yep, I sabbe velly much. +I honest Chinaman.”</p> +<p>“All right,” I answered. “You sabbe talkee +talkee, then you bail water plenty plenty. After that we talkee +talkee.”</p> +<p>He shook his head, at the same time pointing over his shoulder to +his comrades. “No can do. Velly bad Chinamen, heap +velly bad. I t’ink-um—”</p> +<p>“Stand back!” I shouted, for I had noticed his hand disappear +beneath his blouse and his body prepare for a spring.</p> +<p>Disconcerted, he went back into the cabin, to hold a council, apparently, +from the way the jabbering broke forth. The <i>Reindeer</i> was +very deep in the water, and her movements had grown quite loggy. +In a rough sea she would have inevitably swamped; but the wind, when +it did blow, was off the land, and scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface +of the bay.</p> +<p>“I think you’d better head for the beach,” George +said abruptly, in a manner that told me his fear had forced him to make +up his mind to some course of action.</p> +<p>“I think not,” I answered shortly.</p> +<p>“I command you,” he said in a bullying tone.</p> +<p>“I was commanded to bring these prisoners into San Rafael,” +was my reply.</p> +<p>Our voices were raised, and the sound of the altercation brought +the Chinese out of the cabin.</p> +<p>“Now will you head for the beach?”</p> +<p>This from George, and I found myself looking into the muzzle of his +revolver—of the revolver he dared to use on me, but was too cowardly +to use on the prisoners.</p> +<p>My brain seemed smitten with a dazzling brightness. The whole +situation, in all its bearings, was focussed sharply before me—the +shame of losing the prisoners, the worthlessness and cowardice of George, +the meeting with Le Grant and the other patrol men and the lame explanation; +and then there was the fight I had fought so hard, victory wrenched +from me just as I thought I had it within my grasp. And out of +the tail of my eye I could see the Chinese crowding together by the +cabin doors and leering triumphantly. It would never do.</p> +<p>I threw my hand up and my head down. The first act elevated +the muzzle, and the second removed my head from the path of the bullet +which went whistling past. One hand closed on George’s wrist, +the other on the revolver. Yellow Handkerchief and his gang sprang +toward me. It was now or never. Putting all my strength +into a sudden effort, I swung George’s body forward to meet them. +Then I pulled back with equal suddenness, ripping the revolver out of +his fingers and jerking him off his feet. He fell against Yellow +Handkerchief’s knees, who stumbled over him, and the pair wallowed +in the bailing hole where the cockpit floor was torn open. The +next instant I was covering them with my revolver, and the wild shrimp-catchers +were cowering and cringing away.</p> +<p>But I swiftly discovered that there was all the difference in the +world between shooting men who are attacking and men who are doing nothing +more than simply refusing to obey. For obey they would not when +I ordered them into the bailing hole. I threatened them with the +revolver, but they sat stolidly in the flooded cabin and on the roof +and would not move.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes passed, the <i>Reindeer</i> sinking deeper and deeper, +her mainsail flapping in the calm. But from off the Point Pedro +shore I saw a dark line form on the water and travel toward us. +It was the steady breeze I had been expecting so long. I called +to the Chinese and pointed it out. They hailed it with exclamations. +Then I pointed to the sail and to the water in the <i>Reindeer</i>, +and indicated by signs that when the wind reached the sail, what of +the water aboard we would capsize. But they jeered defiantly, +for they knew it was in my power to luff the helm and let go the main-sheet, +so as to spill the wind and escape damage.</p> +<p>But my mind was made up. I hauled in the main-sheet a foot +or two, took a turn with it, and bracing my feet, put my back against +the tiller. This left me one hand for the sheet and one for the +revolver. The dark line drew nearer, and I could see them looking +from me to it and back again with an apprehension they could not successfully +conceal. My brain and will and endurance were pitted against theirs, +and the problem was which could stand the strain of imminent death the +longer and not give in.</p> +<p>Then the wind struck us. The main-sheet tautened with a brisk +rattling of the blocks, the boom uplifted, the sail bellied out, and +the <i>Reindeer</i> heeled over—over, and over, till the lee-rail +went under, the cabin windows went under, and the bay began to pour +in over the cockpit rail. So violently had she heeled over, that +the men in the cabin had been thrown on top of one another into the +lee bunk, where they squirmed and twisted and were washed about, those +underneath being perilously near to drowning.</p> +<p>The wind freshened a bit, and the <i>Reindeer</i> went over farther +than ever. For the moment I thought she was gone, and I knew that +another puff like that and she surely would go. While I pressed +her under and debated whether I should give up or not, the Chinese cried +for mercy. I think it was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. +And then, and not until then, did I luff up and ease out the main-sheet. +The <i>Reindeer</i> righted very slowly, and when she was on an even +keel was so much awash that I doubted if she could be saved.</p> +<p>But the Chinese scrambled madly into the cockpit and fell to bailing +with buckets, pots, pans, and everything they could lay hands on. +It was a beautiful sight to see that water flying over the side! +And when the <i>Reindeer</i> was high and proud on the water once more, +we dashed away with the breeze on our quarter, and at the last possible +moment crossed the mud flats and entered the slough.</p> +<p>The spirit of the Chinese was broken, and so docile did they become +that ere we made San Rafael they were out with the tow-rope, Yellow +Handkerchief at the head of the line. As for George, it was his +last trip with the fish patrol. He did not care for that sort +of thing, he explained, and he thought a clerkship ashore was good enough +for him. And we thought so too.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE KING OF THE GREEKS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Big Alec had never been captured by the fish patrol. It was +his boast that no man could take him alive, and it was his history that +of the many men who had tried to take him dead none had succeeded. +It was also history that at least two patrolmen who had tried to take +him dead had died themselves. Further, no man violated the fish +laws more systematically and deliberately than Big Alec.</p> +<p>He was called “Big Alec” because of his gigantic stature. +His height was six feet three inches, and he was correspondingly broad-shouldered +and deep-chested. He was splendidly muscled and hard as steel, +and there were innumerable stories in circulation among the fisher-folk +concerning his prodigious strength. He was as bold and dominant +of spirit as he was strong of body, and because of this he was widely +known by another name, that of “The King of the Greeks.” +The fishing population was largely composed of Greeks, and they looked +up to him and obeyed him as their chief. And as their chief, he +fought their fights for them, saw that they were protected, saved them +from the law when they fell into its clutches, and made them stand by +one another and himself in time of trouble.</p> +<p>In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture many disastrous +times and had finally given it over, so that when the word was out that +he was coming to Benicia, I was most anxious to see him. But I +did not have to hunt him up. In his usual bold way, the first +thing he did on arriving was to hunt us up. Charley Le Grant and +I at the time were under a patrol-man named Carmintel, and the three +of us were on the <i>Reindeer</i>, preparing for a trip, when Big Alec +stepped aboard. Carmintel evidently knew him, for they shook hands +in recognition. Big Alec took no notice of Charley or me.</p> +<p>“I’ve come down to fish sturgeon a couple of months,” +he said to Carmintel.</p> +<p>His eyes flashed with challenge as he spoke, and we noticed the patrolman’s +eyes drop before him.</p> +<p>“That’s all right, Alec,” Carmintel said in a low +voice. “I’ll not bother you. Come on into the +cabin, and we’ll talk things over,” he added.</p> +<p>When they had gone inside and shut the doors after them, Charley +winked with slow deliberation at me. But I was only a youngster, +and new to men and the ways of some men, so I did not understand. +Nor did Charley explain, though I felt there was something wrong about +the business.</p> +<p>Leaving them to their conference, at Charley’s suggestion we +boarded our skiff and pulled over to the Old Steamboat Wharf, where +Big Alec’s ark was lying. An ark is a house-boat of small +though comfortable dimensions, and is as necessary to the Upper Bay +fisherman as are nets and boats. We were both curious to see Big +Alec’s ark, for history said that it had been the scene of more +than one pitched battle, and that it was riddled with bullet-holes.</p> +<p>We found the holes (stopped with wooden plugs and painted over), +but there were not so many as I had expected. Charley noted my +look of disappointment, and laughed; and then to comfort me he gave +an authentic account of one expedition which had descended upon Big +Alec’s floating home to capture him, alive preferably, dead if +necessary. At the end of half a day’s fighting, the patrolmen +had drawn off in wrecked boats, with one of their number killed and +three wounded. And when they returned next morning with reinforcements +they found only the mooring-stakes of Big Alec’s ark; the ark +itself remained hidden for months in the fastnesses of the Suisun tules.</p> +<p>“But why was he not hanged for murder?” I demanded. +“Surely the United States is powerful enough to bring such a man +to justice.”</p> +<p>“He gave himself up and stood trial,” Charley answered. +“It cost him fifty thousand dollars to win the case, which he +did on technicalities and with the aid of the best lawyers in the state. +Every Greek fisherman on the river contributed to the sum. Big +Alec levied and collected the tax, for all the world like a king. +The United States may be all-powerful, my lad, but the fact remains +that Big Alec is a king inside the United States, with a country and +subjects all his own.”</p> +<p>“But what are you going to do about his fishing for sturgeon? +He’s bound to fish with a ‘Chinese line.’”</p> +<p>Charley shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see what +we will see,” he said enigmatically.</p> +<p>Now a “Chinese line” is a cunning device invented by +the people whose name it bears. By a simple system of floats, +weights, and anchors, thousands of hooks, each on a separate leader, +are suspended at a distance of from six inches to a foot above the bottom. +The remarkable thing about such a line is the hook. It is barbless, +and in place of the barb, the hook is filed long and tapering to a point +as sharp as that of a needle. These hoods are only a few inches +apart, and when several thousand of them are suspended just above the +bottom, like a fringe, for a couple of hundred fathoms, they present +a formidable obstacle to the fish that travel along the bottom.</p> +<p>Such a fish is the sturgeon, which goes rooting along like a pig, +and indeed is often called “pig-fish.” Pricked by +the first hook it touches, the sturgeon gives a startled leap and comes +into contact with half a dozen more hooks. Then it threshes about +wildly, until it receives hook after hook in its soft flesh; and the +hooks, straining from many different angles, hold the luckless fish +fast until it is drowned. Because no sturgeon can pass through +a Chinese line, the device is called a trap in the fish laws; and because +it bids fair to exterminate the sturgeon, it is branded by the fish +laws as illegal. And such a line, we were confident, Big Alec +intended setting, in open and flagrant violation of the law.</p> +<p>Several days passed after the visit of Big Alec, during which Charley +and I kept a sharp watch on him. He towed his ark around the Solano +Wharf and into the big bight at Turner’s Shipyard. The bight +we knew to be good ground for sturgeon, and there we felt sure the King +of the Greeks intended to begin operations. The tide circled like +a mill-race in and out of this bight, and made it possible to raise, +lower, or set a Chinese line only at slack water. So between the +tides Charley and I made it a point for one or the other of us to keep +a lookout from the Solano Wharf.</p> +<p>On the fourth day I was lying in the sun behind the stringer-piece +of the wharf, when I saw a skiff leave the distant shore and pull out +into the bight. In an instant the glasses were at my eyes and +I was following every movement of the skiff. There were two men +in it, and though it was a good mile away, I made out one of them to +be Big Alec; and ere the skiff returned to shore I made out enough more +to know that the Greek had set his line.</p> +<p>“Big Alec has a Chinese line out in the bight off Turner’s +Shipyard,” Charley Le Grant said that afternoon to Carmintel.</p> +<p>A fleeting expression of annoyance passed over the patrolman’s +face, and then he said, “Yes?” in an absent way, and that +was all.</p> +<p>Charley bit his lip with suppressed anger and turned on his heel.</p> +<p>“Are you game, my lad?” he said to me later on in the +evening, just as we finished washing down the <i>Reindeer’s</i> +decks and were preparing to turn in.</p> +<p>A lump came up in my throat, and I could only nod my head.</p> +<p>“Well, then,” and Charley’s eyes glittered in a +determined way, “we’ve got to capture Big Alec between us, +you and I, and we’ve got to do it in spite of Carmintel. +Will you lend a hand?”</p> +<p>“It’s a hard proposition, but we can do it,” he +added after a pause.</p> +<p>“Of course we can,” I supplemented enthusiastically.</p> +<p>And then he said, “Of course we can,” and we shook hands +on it and went to bed.</p> +<p>But it was no easy task we had set ourselves. In order to convict +a man of illegal fishing, it was necessary to catch him in the act with +all the evidence of the crime about him—the hooks, the lines, +the fish, and the man himself. This meant that we must take Big +Alec on the open water, where he could see us coming and prepare for +us one of the warm receptions for which he was noted.</p> +<p>“There’s no getting around it,” Charley said one +morning. “If we can only get alongside it’s an even +toss, and there’s nothing left for us but to try and get alongside. +Come on, lad.”</p> +<p>We were in the Columbia River salmon boat, the one we had used against +the Chinese shrimp-catchers. Slack water had come, and as we dropped +around the end of the Solano Wharf we saw Big Alec at work, running +his line and removing the fish.</p> +<p>“Change places,” Charley commanded, “and steer +just astern of him as though you’re going into the shipyard.”</p> +<p>I took the tiller, and Charley sat down on a thwart amidships, placing +his revolver handily beside him.</p> +<p>“If he begins to shoot,” he cautioned, “get down +in the bottom and steer from there, so that nothing more than your hand +will be exposed.”</p> +<p>I nodded, and we kept silent after that, the boat slipping gently +through the water and Big Alec growing nearer and nearer. We could +see him quite plainly, gaffing the sturgeon and throwing them into the +boat while his companion ran the line and cleared the hooks as he dropped +them back into the water. Nevertheless, we were five hundred yards +away when the big fisherman hailed us.</p> +<p>“Here! You! What do you want?” he shouted.</p> +<p>“Keep going,” Charley whispered, “just as though +you didn’t hear him.”</p> +<p>The next few moments were very anxious ones. The fisherman +was studying us sharply, while we were gliding up on him every second.</p> +<p>“You keep off if you know what’s good for you!” +he called out suddenly, as though he had made up his mind as to who +and what we were. “If you don’t, I’ll fix you!”</p> +<p>He brought a rifle to his shoulder and trained it on me.</p> +<p>“Now will you keep off?” he demanded.</p> +<p>I could hear Charley groan with disappointment. “Keep +off,” he whispered; “it’s all up for this time.”</p> +<p>I put up the tiller and eased the sheet, and the salmon boat ran +off five or six points. Big Alec watched us till we were out of +range, when he returned to his work.</p> +<p>“You’d better leave Big Alec alone,” Carmintel +said, rather sourly, to Charley that night.</p> +<p>“So he’s been complaining to you, has he?” +Charley said significantly.</p> +<p>Carmintel flushed painfully. “You’d better leave +him alone, I tell you,” he repeated. “He’s a +dangerous man, and it won’t pay to fool with him.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Charley answered softly; “I’ve heard +that it pays better to leave him alone.”</p> +<p>This was a direct thrust at Carmintel, and we could see by the expression +of his face that it sank home. For it was common knowledge that +Big Alec was as willing to bribe as to fight, and that of late years +more than one patrolman had handled the fisherman’s money.</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say—” Carmintel began, in a bullying +tone.</p> +<p>But Charley cut him off shortly. “I mean to say nothing,” +he said. “You heard what I said, and if the cap fits, why—”</p> +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and Carmintel glowered at him, speechless.</p> +<p>“What we want is imagination,” Charley said to me one +day, when we had attempted to creep upon Big Alec in the gray of dawn +and had been shot at for our trouble.</p> +<p>And thereafter, and for many days, I cudgelled my brains trying to +imagine some possible way by which two men, on an open stretch of water, +could capture another who knew how to use a rifle and was never to be +found without one. Regularly, every slack water, without slyness, +boldly and openly in the broad day, Big Alec was to be seen running +his line. And what made it particularly exasperating was the fact +that every fisherman, from Benicia to Vallejo knew that he was successfully +defying us. Carmintel also bothered us, for he kept us busy among +the shad-fishers of San Pablo, so that we had little time to spare on +the King of the Greeks. But Charley’s wife and children +lived at Benicia, and we had made the place our headquarters, so that +we always returned to it.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you what we can do,” I said, after several +fruitless weeks had passed; “we can wait some slack water till +Big Alec has run his line and gone ashore with the fish, and then we +can go out and capture the line. It will put him to time and expense +to make another, and then we’ll figure to capture that too. +If we can’t capture him, we can discourage him, you see.”</p> +<p>Charley saw, and said it wasn’t a bad idea. We watched +our chance, and the next low-water slack, after Big Alec had removed +the fish from the line and returned ashore, we went out in the salmon +boat. We had the bearings of the line from shore marks, and we +knew we would have no difficulty in locating it. The first of +the flood tide was setting in, when we ran below where we thought the +line was stretched and dropped over a fishing-boat anchor. Keeping +a short rope to the anchor, so that it barely touched the bottom, we +dragged it slowly along until it stuck and the boat fetched up hard +and fast.</p> +<p>“We’ve got it,” Charley cried. “Come +on and lend a hand to get it in.”</p> +<p>Together we hove up the rope till the anchor I came in sight with +the sturgeon line caught across one of the flukes. Scores of the +murderous-looking hooks flashed into sight as we cleared the anchor, +and we had just started to run along the line to the end where we could +begin to lift it, when a sharp thud in the boat startled us. We +looked about, but saw nothing and returned to our work. An instant +later there was a similar sharp thud and the gunwale splintered between +Charley’s body and mine.</p> +<p>“That’s remarkably like a bullet, lad,” he said +reflectively. “And it’s a long shot Big Alec’s +making.”</p> +<p>“And he’s using smokeless powder,” he concluded, +after an examination of the mile-distant shore. “That’s +why we can’t hear the report.”</p> +<p>I looked at the shore, but could see no sign of Big Alec, who was +undoubtedly hidden in some rocky nook with us at his mercy. A +third bullet struck the water, glanced, passed singing over our heads, +and struck the water again beyond.</p> +<p>“I guess we’d better get out of this,” Charley +remarked coolly. “What do you think, lad?”</p> +<p>I thought so, too, and said we didn’t want the line anyway. +Whereupon we cast off and hoisted the spritsail. The bullets ceased +at once, and we sailed away, unpleasantly confident that Big Alec was +laughing at our discomfiture.</p> +<p>And more than that, the next day on the fishing wharf, where we were +inspecting nets, he saw fit to laugh and sneer at us, and this before +all the fishermen. Charley’s face went black with anger; +but beyond promising Big Alec that in the end he would surely land him +behind the bars, he controlled himself and said nothing. The King +of the Greeks made his boast that no fish patrol had ever taken him +or ever could take him, and the fishermen cheered him and said it was +true. They grew excited, and it looked like trouble for a while; +but Big Alec asserted his kingship and quelled them.</p> +<p>Carmintel also laughed at Charley, and dropped sarcastic remarks, +and made it hard for him. But Charley refused to be angered, though +he told me in confidence that he intended to capture Big Alec if it +took all the rest of his life to accomplish it.</p> +<p>“I don’t know how I’ll do it,” he said, “but +do it I will, as sure as I am Charley Le Grant. The idea will +come to me at the right and proper time, never fear.”</p> +<p>And at the right time it came, and most unexpectedly. Fully +a month had passed, and we were constantly up and down the river, and +down and up the bay, with no spare moments to devote to the particular +fisherman who ran a Chinese line in the bight of Turner’s Shipyard. +We had called in at Selby’s Smelter one afternoon, while on patrol +work, when all unknown to us our opportunity happened along. It +appeared in the guise of a helpless yacht loaded with seasick people, +so we could hardly be expected to recognize it as the opportunity. +It was a large sloop-yacht, and it was helpless inasmuch as the trade-wind +was blowing half a gale and there were no capable sailors aboard.</p> +<p>From the wharf at Selby’s we watched with careless interest +the lubberly manoeuvre performed of bringing the yacht to anchor, and +the equally lubberly manoeuvre of sending the small boat ashore. +A very miserable-looking man in draggled ducks, after nearly swamping +the boat in the heavy seas, passed us the painter and climbed out. +He staggered about as though the wharf were rolling, and told us his +troubles, which were the troubles of the yacht. The only rough-weather +sailor aboard, the man on whom they all depended, had been called back +to San Francisco by a telegram, and they had attempted to continue the +cruise alone. The high wind and big seas of San Pablo Bay had +been too much for them; all hands were sick, nobody knew anything or +could do anything; and so they had run in to the smelter either to desert +the yacht or to get somebody to bring it to Benicia. In short, +did we know of any sailors who would bring the yacht into Benicia?</p> +<p>Charley looked at me. The <i>Reindeer</i> was lying in a snug +place. We had nothing on hand in the way of patrol work till midnight. +With the wind then blowing, we could sail the yacht into Benicia in +a couple of hours, have several more hours ashore, and come back to +the smelter on the evening train.</p> +<p>“All right, captain,” Charley said to the disconsolate +yachtsman, who smiled in sickly fashion at the title.</p> +<p>“I’m only the owner,” he explained.</p> +<p>We rowed him aboard in much better style than he had come ashore, +and saw for ourselves the helplessness of the passengers. There +were a dozen men and women, and all of them too sick even to appear +grateful at our coming. The yacht was rolling savagely, broad +on, and no sooner had the owner’s feet touched the deck than he +collapsed and joined, the others. Not one was able to bear a hand, +so Charley and I between us cleared the badly tangled running gear, +got up sail, and hoisted anchor.</p> +<p>It was a rough trip, though a swift one. The Carquinez Straits +were a welter of foam and smother, and we came through them wildly before +the wind, the big mainsail alternately dipping and flinging its boom +skyward as we tore along. But the people did not mind. They +did not mind anything. Two or three, including the owner, sprawled +in the cockpit, shuddering when the yacht lifted and raced and sank +dizzily into the trough, and between-whiles regarding the shore with +yearning eyes. The rest were huddled on the cabin floor among +the cushions. Now and again some one groaned, but for the most +part they were as limp as so many dead persons.</p> +<p>As the bight at Turner’s Shipyard opened out, Charley edged +into it to get the smoother water. Benicia was in view, and we +were bowling along over comparatively easy water, when a speck of a +boat danced up ahead of us, directly in our course. It was low-water +slack. Charley and I looked at each other. No word was spoken, +but at once the yacht began a most astonishing performance, veering +and yawing as though the greenest of amateurs was at the wheel. +It was a sight for sailormen to see. To all appearances, a runaway +yacht was careering madly over the bight, and now and again yielding +a little bit to control in a desperate effort to make Benicia.</p> +<p>The owner forgot his seasickness long enough to look anxious. +The speck of a boat grew larger and larger, till we could see Big Alec +and his partner, with a turn of the sturgeon line around a cleat, resting +from their labor to laugh at us. Charley pulled his sou’wester +over his eyes, and I followed his example, though I could not guess +the idea he evidently had in mind and intended to carry into execution.</p> +<p>We came foaming down abreast of the skiff, so close that we could +hear above the wind the voices of Big Alec and his mate as they shouted +at us with all the scorn that professional watermen feel for amateurs, +especially when amateurs are making fools of themselves.</p> +<p>We thundered on past the fishermen, and nothing had happened. +Charley grinned at the disappointment he saw in my face, and then shouted:</p> +<p>“Stand by the main-sheet to jibe!”</p> +<p>He put the wheel hard over, and the yacht whirled around obediently. +The main-sheet slacked and dipped, then shot over our heads after the +boom and tautened with a crash on the traveller. The yacht heeled +over almost on her beam ends, and a great wail went up from the seasick +passengers as they swept across the cabin floor in a tangled mass and +piled into a heap in the starboard bunks.</p> +<p>But we had no time for them. The yacht, completing the manoeuvre, +headed into the wind with slatting canvas, and righted to an even keel. +We were still plunging ahead, and directly in our path was the skiff. +I saw Big Alec dive overboard and his mate leap for our bowsprit. +Then came the crash as we struck the boat, and a series of grinding +bumps as it passed under our bottom.</p> +<p>“That fixes his rifle,” I heard Charley mutter, as he +sprang upon the deck to look for Big Alec somewhere astern.</p> +<p>The wind and sea quickly stopped our forward movement, and we began +to drift backward over the spot where the skiff had been. Big +Alec’s black head and swarthy face popped up within arm’s +reach; and all unsuspecting and very angry with what he took to be the +clumsiness of amateur sailors, he was hauled aboard. Also he was +out of breath, for he had dived deep and stayed down long to escape +our keel.</p> +<p>The next instant, to the perplexity and consternation of the owner, +Charley was on top of Big Alec in the cockpit, and I was helping bind +him with gaskets. The owner was dancing excitedly about and demanding +an explanation, but by that time Big Alec’s partner had crawled +aft from the bowsprit and was peering apprehensively over the rail into +the cockpit. Charley’s arm shot around his neck and the +man landed on his back beside Big Alec.</p> +<p>“More gaskets!” Charley shouted, and I made haste to +supply them.</p> +<p>The wrecked skiff was rolling sluggishly a short distance to windward, +and I trimmed the sheets while Charley took the wheel and steered for +it.</p> +<p>“These two men are old offenders,” he explained to the +angry owner; “and they are most persistent violators of the fish +and game laws. You have seen them caught in the act, and you may +expect to be subpoenaed as witness for the state when the trial comes +off.”</p> +<p>As he spoke he rounded alongside the skiff. It had been torn +from the line, a section of which was dragging to it. He hauled +in forty or fifty feet with a young sturgeon still fast in a tangle +of barbless hooks, slashed that much of the line free with his knife, +and tossed it into the cockpit beside the prisoners.</p> +<p>“And there’s the evidence, Exhibit A, for the people,” +Charley continued. “Look it over carefully so that you may +identify it in the court-room with the time and place of capture.”</p> +<p>And then, in triumph, with no more veering and yawing, we sailed +into Benicia, the King of the Greeks bound hard and fast in the cockpit, +and for the first time in his life a prisoner of the fish patrol.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A RAID ON THE OYSTER PIRATES</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Of the fish patrolmen under whom we served at various times, Charley +Le Grant and I were agreed, I think, that Neil Partington was the best. +He was neither dishonest nor cowardly; and while he demanded strict +obedience when we were under his orders, at the same time our relations +were those of easy comradeship, and he permitted us a freedom to which +we were ordinarily unaccustomed, as the present story will show.</p> +<p>Neil’s family lived in Oakland, which is on the Lower Bay, +not more than six miles across the water from San Francisco. One +day, while scouting among the Chinese shrimp-catchers of Point Pedro, +he received word that his wife was very ill; and within the hour the +<i>Reindeer</i> was bowling along for Oakland, with a stiff northwest +breeze astern. We ran up the Oakland Estuary and came to anchor, +and in the days that followed, while Neil was ashore, we tightened up +the <i>Reindeer’s</i> rigging, overhauled the ballast, scraped +down, and put the sloop into thorough shape.</p> +<p>This done, time hung heavy on our hands. Neil’s wife +was dangerously ill, and the outlook was a week’s lie-over, awaiting +the crisis. Charley and I roamed the docks, wondering what we +should do, and so came upon the oyster fleet lying at the Oakland City +Wharf. In the main they were trim, natty boats, made for speed +and bad weather, and we sat down on the stringer-piece of the dock to +study them.</p> +<p>“A good catch, I guess,” Charley said, pointing to the +heaps of oysters, assorted in three sizes, which lay upon their decks.</p> +<p>Pedlers were backing their wagons to the edge of the wharf, and from +the bargaining and chaffering that went on, I managed to learn the selling +price of the oysters.</p> +<p>“That boat must have at least two hundred dollars’ worth +aboard,” I calculated. “I wonder how long it took +to get the load?”</p> +<p>“Three or four days,” Charley answered. “Not +bad wages for two men—twenty-five dollars a day apiece.”</p> +<p>The boat we were discussing, the <i>Ghost</i>, lay directly beneath +us. Two men composed its crew. One was a squat, broad-shouldered +fellow with remarkably long and gorilla-like arms, while the other was +tall and well proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat of straight +black hair. So unusual and striking was this combination of hair +and eyes that Charley and I remained somewhat longer than we intended.</p> +<p>And it was well that we did. A stout, elderly man, with the +dress and carriage of a successful merchant, came up and stood beside +us, looking down upon the deck of the <i>Ghost</i>. He appeared +angry, and the longer he looked the angrier he grew.</p> +<p>“Those are my oysters,” he said at last. “I +know they are my oysters. You raided my beds last night and robbed +me of them.”</p> +<p>The tall man and the short man on the <i>Ghost</i> looked up.</p> +<p>“Hello, Taft,” the short man said, with insolent familiarity. +(Among the bayfarers he had gained the nickname of “The Centipede” +on account of his long arms.) “Hello, Taft,” he repeated, +with the same touch of insolence. “Wot ’r you growling +about now?”</p> +<p>“Those are my oysters—that’s what I said. +You’ve stolen them from my beds.”</p> +<p>“Yer mighty wise, ain’t ye?” was the Centipede’s +sneering reply. “S’pose you can tell your oysters +wherever you see ’em?”</p> +<p>“Now, in my experience,” broke in the tall man, “oysters +is oysters wherever you find ’em, an’ they’re pretty +much alike all the Bay over, and the world over, too, for that matter. +We’re not wantin’ to quarrel with you, Mr. Taft, but we +jes’ wish you wouldn’t insinuate that them oysters is yours +an’ that we’re thieves an’ robbers till you can prove +the goods.”</p> +<p>“I know they’re mine; I’d stake my life on it!” +Mr. Taft snorted.</p> +<p>“Prove it,” challenged the tall man, who we afterward +learned was known as “The Porpoise” because of his wonderful +swimming abilities.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Of course he could +not prove the oysters to be his, no matter how certain he might be.</p> +<p>“I’d give a thousand dollars to have you men behind the +bars!” he cried. “I’ll give fifty dollars a +head for your arrest and conviction, all of you!”</p> +<p>A roar of laughter went up from the different boats, for the rest +of the pirates had been listening to the discussion.</p> +<p>“There’s more money in oysters,” the Porpoise remarked +dryly.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft turned impatiently on his heel and walked away. From +out of the corner of his eye, Charley noted the way he went. Several +minutes later, when he had disappeared around a corner, Charley rose +lazily to his feet. I followed him, and we sauntered off in the +opposite direction to that taken by Mr. Taft.</p> +<p>“Come on! Lively!” Charley whispered, when we passed +from the view of the oyster fleet.</p> +<p>Our course was changed at once, and we dodged around corners and +raced up and down side-streets till Mr. Taft’s generous form loomed +up ahead of us.</p> +<p>“I’m going to interview him about that reward,” +Charley explained, as we rapidly over-hauled the oyster-bed owner. +“Neil will be delayed here for a week, and you and I might as +well be doing something in the meantime. What do you say?”</p> +<p>“Of course, of course,” Mr. Taft said, when Charley had +introduced himself and explained his errand. “Those thieves +are robbing me of thousands of dollars every year, and I shall be glad +to break them up at any price,—yes, sir, at any price. As +I said, I’ll give fifty dollars a head, and call it cheap at that. +They’ve robbed my beds, torn down my signs, terrorized my watchmen, +and last year killed one of them. Couldn’t prove it. +All done in the blackness of night. All I had was a dead watchman +and no evidence. The detectives could do nothing. Nobody +has been able to do anything with those men. We have never succeeded +in arresting one of them. So I say, Mr.—What did you say +your name was?”</p> +<p>“Le Grant,” Charley answered.</p> +<p>“So I say, Mr. Le Grant, I am deeply obliged to you for the +assistance you offer. And I shall be glad, most glad, sir, to +co-operate with you in every way. My watchmen and boats are at +your disposal. Come and see me at the San Francisco offices any +time, or telephone at my expense. And don’t be afraid of +spending money. I’ll foot your expenses, whatever they are, +so long as they are within reason. The situation is growing desperate, +and something must be done to determine whether I or that band of ruffians +own those oyster beds.”</p> +<p>“Now we’ll see Neil,” Charley said, when he had +seen Mr. Taft upon his train to San Francisco.</p> +<p>Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to our adventure, +but he proved to be of the greatest assistance. Charley and I +knew nothing of the oyster industry, while his head was an encyclopaedia +of facts concerning it. Also, within an hour or so, he was able +to bring to us a Greek boy of seventeen or eighteen who knew thoroughly +well the ins and outs of oyster piracy.</p> +<p>At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol were +free lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a patrolman +proper, received a regular salary, Charley and I, being merely deputies, +received only what we earned—that is to say, a certain percentage +of the fines imposed on convicted violators of the fish laws. +Also, any rewards that chanced our way were ours. We offered to +share with Partington whatever we should get from Mr. Taft, but the +patrolman would not hear of it. He was only too happy, he said, +to do a good turn for us, who had done so many for him.</p> +<p>We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following line +of action. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, but as +the <i>Reindeer</i> was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, the Greek +boy, whose name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some innocent-looking +craft down to Asparagus Island and join the oyster pirates’ fleet. +Here, according to Nicholas’s description of the beds and the +manner of raiding, it was possible for us to catch the pirates in the +act of stealing oysters, and at the same time to get them in our power. +Charley was to be on the shore, with Mr. Taft’s watchmen and a +posse of constables, to help us at the right time.</p> +<p>“I know just the boat,” Neil said, at the conclusion +of the discussion, “a crazy old sloop that’s lying over +at Tiburon. You and Nicholas can go over by the ferry, charter +it for a song, and sail direct for the beds.”</p> +<p>“Good luck be with you, boys,” he said at parting, two +days later. “Remember, they are dangerous men, so be careful.”</p> +<p>Nicholas and I succeeded in chartering the sloop very cheaply; and +between laughs, while getting up sail, we agreed that she was even crazier +and older than she had been described. She was a big, flat-bottomed, +square-sterned craft, sloop-rigged, with a sprung mast, slack rigging, +dilapidated sails, and rotten running-gear, clumsy to handle and uncertain +in bringing about, and she smelled vilely of coal tar, with which strange +stuff she had been smeared from stem to stern and from cabin-roof to +centreboard. And to cap it all, <i>Coal Tar</i> <i>Maggie</i> +was printed in great white letters the whole length of either side.</p> +<p>It was an uneventful though laughable run from Tiburon to Asparagus +Island, where we arrived in the afternoon of the following day. +The oyster pirates, a fleet of a dozen sloops, were lying at anchor +on what was known as the “Deserted Beds.” The <i>Coal +Tar Maggie</i> came sloshing into their midst with a light breeze astern, +and they crowded on deck to see us. Nicholas and I had caught +the spirit of the crazy craft, and we handled her in most lubberly fashion.</p> +<p>“Wot is it?” some one called.</p> +<p>“Name it ’n’ ye kin have it!” called another.</p> +<p>“I swan naow, ef it ain’t the old Ark itself!” +mimicked the Centipede from the deck of the <i>Ghost.</i></p> +<p>“Hey! Ahoy there, clipper ship!” another wag shouted. +“Wot’s yer port?”</p> +<p>We took no notice of the joking, but acted, after the manner of greenhorns, +as though the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> required our undivided attention. +I rounded her well to windward of the <i>Ghost</i>, and Nicholas ran +for’ard to drop the anchor. To all appearances it was a +bungle, the way the chain tangled and kept the anchor from reaching +the bottom. And to all appearances Nicholas and I were terribly +excited as we strove to clear it. At any rate, we quite deceived +the pirates, who took huge delight in our predicament.</p> +<p>But the chain remained tangled, and amid all kinds of mocking advice +we drifted down upon and fouled the <i>Ghost</i>, whose bowsprit poked +square through our mainsail and ripped a hole in it as big as a barn +door. The Centipede and the Porpoise doubled up on the cabin in +paroxysms of laughter, and left us to get clear as best we could. +This, with much unseaman-like performance, we succeeded in doing, and +likewise in clearing the anchor-chain, of which we let out about three +hundred feet. With only ten feet of water under us, this would +permit the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i> to swing in a circle six hundred feet +in diameter, in which circle she would be able to foul at least half +the fleet.</p> +<p>The oyster pirates lay snugly together at short hawsers, the weather +being fine, and they protested loudly at our ignorance in putting out +such an unwarranted length of anchor-chain. And not only did they +protest, for they made us heave it in again, all but thirty feet.</p> +<p>Having sufficiently impressed them with our general lubberliness, +Nicholas and I went below to congratulate ourselves and to cook supper. +Hardly had we finished the meal and washed the dishes, when a skiff +ground against the <i>Coal Tar Maggie’s</i> side, and heavy feet +trampled on deck. Then the Centipede’s brutal face appeared +in the companionway, and he descended into the cabin, followed by the +Porpoise. Before they could seat themselves on a bunk, another +skiff came alongside, and another, and another, till the whole fleet +was represented by the gathering in the cabin.</p> +<p>“Where’d you swipe the old tub?” asked a squat +and hairy man, with cruel eyes and Mexican features.</p> +<p>“Didn’t swipe it,” Nicholas answered, meeting them +on their own ground and encouraging the idea that we had stolen the +<i>Coal Tar Maggie</i>. “And if we did, what of it?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t admire your taste, that’s all,” +sneered he of the Mexican features. “I’d rot on the +beach first before I’d take a tub that couldn’t get out +of its own way.”</p> +<p>“How were we to know till we tried her?” Nicholas asked, +so innocently as to cause a laugh. “And how do you get the +oysters?” he hurried on. “We want a load of them; +that’s what we came for, a load of oysters.”</p> +<p>“What d’ye want ’em for?” demanded the Porpoise.</p> +<p>“Oh, to give away to our friends, of course,” Nicholas +retorted. “That’s what you do with yours, I suppose.”</p> +<p>This started another laugh, and as our visitors grew more genial +we could see that they had not the slightest suspicion of our identity +or purpose.</p> +<p>“Didn’t I see you on the dock in Oakland the other day?” +the Centipede asked suddenly of me.</p> +<p>“Yep,” I answered boldly, taking the bull by the horns. +“I was watching you fellows and figuring out whether we’d +go oystering or not. It’s a pretty good business, I calculate, +and so we’re going in for it. That is,” I hastened +to add, “if you fellows don’t mind.”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you one thing, which ain’t two things,” +he replied, “and that is you’ll have to hump yerself an’ +get a better boat. We won’t stand to be disgraced by any +such box as this. Understand?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” I said. “Soon as we sell some oysters +we’ll outfit in style.”</p> +<p>“And if you show yerself square an’ the right sort,” +he went on, “why, you kin run with us. But if you don’t” +(here his voice became stern and menacing), “why, it’ll +be the sickest day of yer life. Understand?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” I said.</p> +<p>After that and more warning and advice of similar nature, the conversation +became general, and we learned that the beds were to be raided that +very night. As they got into their boats, after an hour’s +stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with the assurance of +“the more the merrier.”</p> +<p>“Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?” Nicholas +asked, when they had departed to their various sloops. “He’s +Barchi, of the Sporting Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him +is Skilling. They’re both out now on five thousand dollars’ +bail.”</p> +<p>I had heard of the Sporting Life Gang before, a crowd of hoodlums +and criminals that terrorized the lower quarters of Oakland, and two-thirds +of which were usually to be found in state’s prison for crimes +that ranged from perjury and ballot-box stuffing to murder.</p> +<p>“They are not regular oyster pirates,” Nicholas continued. +“They’ve just come down for the lark and to make a few dollars. +But we’ll have to watch out for them.”</p> +<p>We sat in the cockpit and discussed the details of our plan till +eleven o’clock had passed, when we heard the rattle of an oar +in a boat from the direction of the <i>Ghost</i>. We hauled up +our own skiff, tossed in a few sacks, and rowed over. There we +found all the skiffs assembling, it being the intention to raid the +beds in a body.</p> +<p>To my surprise, I found barely a foot of water where we had dropped +anchor in ten feet. It was the big June run-out of the full moon, +and as the ebb had yet an hour and a half to run, I knew that our anchorage +would be dry ground before slack water.</p> +<p>Mr. Taft’s beds were three miles away, and for a long time +we rowed silently in the wake of the other boats, once in a while grounding +and our oar blades constantly striking bottom. At last we came +upon soft mud covered with not more than two inches of water—not +enough to float the boats. But the pirates at once were over the +side, and by pushing and pulling on the flat-bottomed skiffs, we moved +steadily along.</p> +<p>The full moon was partly obscured by high-flying clouds, but the +pirates went their way with the familiarity born of long practice. +After half a mile of the mud, we came upon a deep channel, up which +we rowed, with dead oyster shoals looming high and dry on either side. +At last we reached the picking grounds. Two men, on one of the +shoals, hailed us and warned us off. But the Centipede, the Porpoise, +Barchi, and Skilling took the lead, and followed by the rest of us, +at least thirty men in half as many boats, rowed right up to the watchmen.</p> +<p>“You’d better slide outa this here,” Barchi said +threateningly, “or we’ll fill you so full of holes you wouldn’t +float in molasses.”</p> +<p>The watchmen wisely retreated before so overwhelming a force, and +rowed their boat along the channel toward where the shore should be. +Besides, it was in the plan for them to retreat.</p> +<p>We hauled the noses of the boats up on the shore side of a big shoal, +and all hands, with sacks, spread out and began picking. Every +now and again the clouds thinned before the face of the moon, and we +could see the big oysters quite distinctly. In almost no time +sacks were filled and carried back to the boats, where fresh ones were +obtained. Nicholas and I returned often and anxiously to the boats +with our little loads, but always found some one of the pirates coming +or going.</p> +<p>“Never mind,” he said; “no hurry. As they +pick farther and farther away, it will take too long to carry to the +boats. Then they’ll stand the full sacks on end and pick +them up when the tide comes in and the skiffs will float to them.”</p> +<p>Fully half an hour went by, and the tide had begun to flood, when +this came to pass. Leaving the pirates at their work, we stole +back to the boats. One by one, and noiselessly, we shoved them +off and made them fast in an awkward flotilla. Just as we were +shoving off the last skiff, our own, one of the men came upon us. +It was Barchi. His quick eye took in the situation at a glance, +and he sprang for us; but we went clear with a mighty shove, and he +was left floundering in the water over his head. As soon as he +got back to the shoal he raised his voice and gave the alarm.</p> +<p>We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so many +boats in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a second, and a +third; then a regular fusillade began. The bullets spat and spat +all about us; but thick clouds had covered the moon, and in the dim +darkness it was no more than random firing. It was only by chance +that we could be hit.</p> +<p>“Wish we had a little steam launch,” I panted.</p> +<p>“I’d just as soon the moon stayed hidden,” Nicholas +panted back.</p> +<p>It was slow work, but every stroke carried us farther away from the +shoal and nearer the shore, till at last the shooting died down, and +when the moon did come out we were too far away to be in danger. +Not long afterward we answered a shoreward hail, and two Whitehall boats, +each pulled by three pairs of oars, darted up to us. Charley’s +welcome face bent over to us, and he gripped us by the hands while he +cried, “Oh, you joys! You joys! Both of you!”</p> +<p>When the flotilla had been landed, Nicholas and I and a watchman +rowed out in one of the Whitehalls, with Charley in the stern-sheets. +Two other Whitehalls followed us, and as the moon now shone brightly, +we easily made out the oyster pirates on their lonely shoal. As +we drew closer, they fired a rattling volley from their revolvers, and +we promptly retreated beyond range.</p> +<p>“Lot of time,” Charley said. “The flood is +setting in fast, and by the time it’s up to their necks there +won’t be any fight left in them.”</p> +<p>So we lay on our oars and waited for the tide to do its work. +This was the predicament of the pirates: because of the big run-out, +the tide was now rushing back like a mill-race, and it was impossible +for the strongest swimmer in the world to make against it the three +miles to the sloops. Between the pirates and the shore were we, +precluding escape in that direction. On the other hand, the water +was rising rapidly over the shoals, and it was only a question of a +few hours when it would be over their heads.</p> +<p>It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight we +watched them through our night glasses and told Charley of the voyage +of the <i>Coal Tar Maggie</i>. One o’clock came, and two +o’clock, and the pirates were clustering on the highest shoal, +waist-deep in water.</p> +<p>“Now this illustrates the value of imagination,” Charley +was saying. “Taft has been trying for years to get them, +but he went at it with bull strength and failed. Now we used our +heads . . .”</p> +<p>Just then I heard a scarcely audible gurgle of water, and holding +up my hand for silence, I turned and pointed to a ripple slowly widening +out in a growing circle. It was not more than fifty feet from +us. We kept perfectly quiet and waited. After a minute the +water broke six feet away, and a black head and white shoulder showed +in the moonlight. With a snort of surprise and of suddenly expelled +breath, the head and shoulder went down.</p> +<p>We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the current. +Four pairs of eyes searched the surface of the water, but never another +ripple showed, and never another glimpse did we catch of the black head +and white shoulder.</p> +<p>“It’s the Porpoise,” Nicholas said. “It +would take broad daylight for us to catch him.”</p> +<p>At a quarter to three the pirates gave their first sign of weakening. +We heard cries for help, in the unmistakable voice of the Centipede, +and this time, on rowing closer, we were not fired upon. The Centipede +was in a truly perilous plight. Only the heads and shoulders of +his fellow-marauders showed above the water as they braced themselves +against the current, while his feet were off the bottom and they were +supporting him.</p> +<p>“Now, lads,” Charley said briskly, “we have got +you, and you can’t get away. If you cut up rough, we’ll +have to leave you alone and the water will finish you. But if +you’re good we’ll take you aboard, one man at a time, and +you’ll all be saved. What do you say?”</p> +<p>“Ay,” they chorused hoarsely between their chattering +teeth.</p> +<p>“Then one man at a time, and the short men first.”</p> +<p>The Centipede was the first to be pulled aboard, and he came willingly, +though he objected when the constable put the handcuffs on him. +Barchi was next hauled in, quite meek and resigned from his soaking. +When we had ten in, our boat we drew back, and the second Whitehall +was loaded. The third Whitehall received nine prisoners only—a +catch of twenty-nine in all.</p> +<p>“You didn’t get the Porpoise,” the Centipede said +exultantly, as though his escape materially diminished our success.</p> +<p>Charley laughed. “But we saw him just the same, a-snorting +for shore like a puffing pig.”</p> +<p>It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up the +beach to the oyster house. In answer to Charley’s knock, +the door was flung open, and a pleasant wave of warm air rushed out +upon us.</p> +<p>“You can dry your clothes here, lads, and get some hot coffee,” +Charley announced, as they filed in.</p> +<p>And there, sitting ruefully by the fire, with a steaming mug in his +hand, was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and I looked +at Charley. He laughed gleefully.</p> +<p>“That comes of imagination,” he said. “When +you see a thing, you’ve got to see it all around, or what’s +the good of seeing it at all? I saw the beach, so I left a couple +of constables behind to keep an eye on it. That’s all.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE SIEGE OF THE “LANCASHIRE QUEEN”</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Possibly our most exasperating experience on the fish patrol was +when Charley Le Grant and I laid a two weeks’ siege to a big four-masted +English ship. Before we had finished with the affair, it became +a pretty mathematical problem, and it was by the merest chance that +we came into possession of the instrument that brought it to a successful +termination.</p> +<p>After our raid on the oyster pirates we had returned to Oakland, +where two more weeks passed before Neil Partington’s wife was +out of danger and on the highroad to recovery. So it was after +an absence of a month, all told, that we turned the <i>Reindeer’s</i> +nose toward Benicia. When the cat’s away the mice will play, +and in these four weeks the fishermen had become very bold in violating +the law. When we passed Point Pedro we noticed many signs of activity +among the shrimp-catchers, and, well into San Pablo Bay, we observed +a widely scattered fleet of Upper Bay fishing-boats hastily pulling +in their nets and getting up sail.</p> +<p>This was suspicious enough to warrant investigation, and the first +and only boat we succeeded in boarding proved to have an illegal net. +The law permitted no smaller mesh for catching shad than one that measured +seven and one-half inches inside the knots, while the mesh of this particular +net measured only three inches. It was a flagrant breach of the +rules, and the two fishermen were forthwith put under arrest. +Neil Partington took one of them with him to help manage the <i>Reindeer</i>, +while Charley and I went on ahead with the other in the captured boat.</p> +<p>But the shad fleet had headed over toward the Petaluma shore in wild +flight, and for the rest of the run through San Pablo Bay we saw no +more fishermen at all. Our prisoner, a bronzed and bearded Greek, +sat sullenly on his net while we sailed his craft. It was a new +Columbia River salmon boat, evidently on its first trip, and it handled +splendidly. Even when Charley praised it, our prisoner refused +to speak or to notice us, and we soon gave him up as a most unsociable +fellow.</p> +<p>We ran up the Carquinez Straits and edged into the bight at Turner’s +Shipyard for smoother water. Here were lying several English steel +sailing ships, waiting for the wheat harvest; and here, most unexpectedly, +in the precise place where we had captured Big Alec, we came upon two +Italians in a skiff that was loaded with a complete “Chinese” +sturgeon line. The surprise was mutual, and we were on top of +them before either they or we were aware. Charley had barely time +to luff into the wind and run up to them. I ran forward and tossed +them a line with orders to make it fast. One of the Italians took +a turn with it over a cleat, while I hastened to lower our big spritsail. +This accomplished, the salmon boat dropped astern, dragging heavily +on the skiff.</p> +<p>Charley came forward to board the prize, but when I proceeded to +haul alongside by means of the line, the Italians cast it off. +We at once began drifting to leeward, while they got out two pairs of +oars and rowed their light craft directly into the wind. This +manoeuvre for the moment disconcerted us, for in our large and heavily +loaded boat we could not hope to catch them with the oars. But +our prisoner came unexpectedly to our aid. His black eyes were +flashing eagerly, and his face was flushed with suppressed excitement, +as he dropped the centre-board, sprang forward with a single leap, and +put up the sail.</p> +<p>“I’ve always heard that Greeks don’t like Italians,” +Charley laughed, as he ran aft to the tiller.</p> +<p>And never in my experience have I seen a man so anxious for the capture +of another as was our prisoner in the chase that followed. His +eyes fairly snapped, and his nostrils quivered and dilated in a most +extraordinary way. Charley steered while he tended the sheet; +and though Charley was as quick and alert as a cat, the Greek could +hardly control his impatience.</p> +<p>The Italians were cut off from the shore, which was fully a mile +away at its nearest point. Did they attempt to make it, we could +haul after them with the wind abeam, and overtake them before they had +covered an eighth of the distance. But they were too wise to attempt +it, contenting themselves with rowing lustily to windward along the +starboard side of a big ship, the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>. But +beyond the ship lay an open stretch of fully two miles to the shore +in that direction. This, also, they dared not attempt, for we +were bound to catch them before they could cover it. So, when +they reached the bow of the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, nothing remained +but to pass around and row down her port side toward the stern, which +meant rowing to leeward and giving us the advantage.</p> +<p>We in the salmon boat, sailing close on the wind, tacked about and +crossed the ship’s bow. Then Charley put up the tiller and +headed down the port side of the ship, the Greek letting out the sheet +and grinning with delight. The Italians were already half-way +down the ship’s length; but the stiff breeze at our back drove +us after them far faster than they could row. Closer and closer +we came, and I, lying down forward, was just reaching out to grasp the +skiff, when it ducked under the great stern of the <i>Lancashire Queen.</i></p> +<p>The chase was virtually where it had begun. The Italians were +rowing up the starboard side of the ship, and we were hauled close on +the wind and slowly edging out from the ship as we worked to windward. +Then they darted around her bow and began the row down her port side, +and we tacked about, crossed her bow, and went plunging down the wind +hot after them. And again, just as I was reaching for the skiff, +it ducked under the ship’s stern and out of danger. And +so it went, around and around, the skiff each time just barely ducking +into safety.</p> +<p>By this time the ship’s crew had become aware of what was taking +place, and we could see their heads in a long row as they looked at +us over the bulwarks. Each time we missed the skiff at the stern, +they set up a wild cheer and dashed across to the other side of the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i> to see the chase to wind-ward. They showered +us and the Italians with jokes and advice, and made our Greek so angry +that at least once on each circuit he raised his fist and shook it at +them in a rage. They came to look for this, and at each display +greeted it with uproarious mirth.</p> +<p>“Wot a circus!” cried one.</p> +<p>“Tork about yer marine hippodromes,—if this ain’t +one, I’d like to know!” affirmed another.</p> +<p>“Six-days-go-as-yer-please,” announced a third. +“Who says the dagoes won’t win?”</p> +<p>On the next tack to windward the Greek offered to change places with +Charley.</p> +<p>“Let-a me sail-a de boat,” he demanded. “I +fix-a them, I catch-a them, sure.”</p> +<p>This was a stroke at Charley’s professional pride, for pride +himself he did upon his boat-sailing abilities; but he yielded the tiller +to the prisoner and took his place at the sheet. Three times again +we made the circuit, and the Greek found that he could get no more speed +out of the salmon boat than Charley had.</p> +<p>“Better give it up,” one of the sailors advised from +above.</p> +<p>The Greek scowled ferociously and shook his fist in his customary +fashion. In the meanwhile my mind had not been idle, and I had +finally evolved an idea.</p> +<p>“Keep going, Charley, one time more,” I said.</p> +<p>And as we laid out on the next tack to wind-ward, I bent a piece +of line to a small grappling hook I had seen lying in the bail-hole. +The end of the line I made fast to the ring-bolt in the bow, and with +the hook out of sight I waited for the next opportunity to use it. +Once more they made their leeward pull down the port side of the <i>Lancashire +Queen</i>, and once more we churned down after them before the wind. +Nearer and nearer we drew, and I was making believe to reach for them +as before. The stern of the skiff was not six feet away, and they +were laughing at me derisively as they ducked under the ship’s +stern. At that instant I suddenly arose and threw the grappling +iron. It caught fairly and squarely on the rail of the skiff, +which was jerked backward out of safety as the rope tautened and the +salmon boat ploughed on.</p> +<p>A groan went up from the row of sailors above, which quickly changed +to a cheer as one of the Italians whipped out a long sheath-knife and +cut the rope. But we had drawn them out of safety, and Charley, +from his place in the stern-sheets, reached over and clutched the stern +of the skiff. The whole thing happened in a second of time, for +the first Italian was cutting the rope and Charley was clutching the +skiff when the second Italian dealt him a rap over the head with an +oar, Charley released his hold and collapsed, stunned, into the bottom +of the salmon boat, and the Italians bent to their oars and escaped +back under the ship’s stern.</p> +<p>The Greek took both tiller and sheet and continued the chase around +the <i>Lancashire</i> <i>Queen</i>, while I attended to Charley, on +whose head a nasty lump was rapidly rising. Our sailor audience +was wild with delight, and to a man encouraged the fleeing Italians. +Charley sat up, with one hand on his head, and gazed about him sheepishly.</p> +<p>“It will never do to let them escape now,” he said, at +the same time drawing his revolver.</p> +<p>On our next circuit, he threatened the Italians with the weapon; +but they rowed on stolidly, keeping splendid stroke and utterly disregarding +him.</p> +<p>“If you don’t stop, I’ll shoot,” Charley +said menacingly.</p> +<p>But this had no effect, nor were they to be frightened into surrendering +even when he fired several shots dangerously close to them. It +was too much to expect him to shoot unarmed men, and this they knew +as well as we did; so they continued to pull doggedly round and round +the ship.</p> +<p>“We’ll run them down, then!” Charley exclaimed. +“We’ll wear them out and wind them!”</p> +<p>So the chase continued. Twenty times more we ran them around +the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, and at last we could see that even their +iron muscles were giving out. They were nearly exhausted, and +it was only a matter of a few more circuits, when the game took on a +new feature. On the row to windward they always gained on us, +so that they were half-way down the ship’s side on the row to +leeward when we were passing the bow. But this last time, as we +passed the bow, we saw them escaping up the ship’s gangway, which +had been suddenly lowered. It was an organized move on the part +of the sailors, evidently countenanced by the captain; for by the time +we arrived where the gangway had been, it was being hoisted up, and +the skiff, slung in the ship’s davits, was likewise flying aloft +out of reach.</p> +<p>The parley that followed with the captain was short and snappy. +He absolutely forbade us to board the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, and as +absolutely refused to give up the two men. By this time Charley +was as enraged as the Greek. Not only had he been foiled in a +long and ridiculous chase, but he had been knocked senseless into the +bottom of his boat by the men who had escaped him.</p> +<p>“Knock off my head with little apples,” he declared emphatically, +striking the fist of one hand into the palm of the other, “if +those two men ever escape me! I’ll stay here to get them +if it takes the rest of my natural life, and if I don’t get them, +then I promise you I’ll live unnaturally long or until I do get +them, or my name’s not Charley Le Grant!”</p> +<p>And then began the siege of the <i>Lancashire</i> <i>Queen</i>, a +siege memorable in the annals of both fishermen and fish patrol. +When the <i>Reindeer</i> came along, after a fruitless pursuit of the +shad fleet, Charley instructed Neil Partington to send out his own salmon +boat, with blankets, provisions, and a fisherman’s charcoal stove. +By sunset this exchange of boats was made, and we said good-by to our +Greek, who perforce had to go into Benicia and be locked up for his +own violation of the law. After supper, Charley and I kept alternate +four-hour watches till day-light. The fishermen made no attempt +to escape that night, though the ship sent out a boat for scouting purposes +to find if the coast were clear.</p> +<p>By the next day we saw that a steady siege was in order, and we perfected +our plans with an eye to our own comfort. A dock, known as the +Solano Wharf, which ran out from the Benicia shore, helped us in this. +It happened that the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, the shore at Turner’s +Shipyard, and the Solano Wharf were the corners of a big equilateral +triangle. From ship to shore, the side of the triangle along which +the Italians had to escape, was a distance equal to that from the Solano +Wharf to the shore, the side of the triangle along which we had to travel +to get to the shore before the Italians. But as we could sail +much faster than they could row, we could permit them to travel about +half their side of the triangle before we darted out along our side. +If we allowed them to get more than half-way, they were certain to beat +us to shore; while if we started before they were half-way, they were +equally certain to beat us back to the ship.</p> +<p>We found that an imaginary line, drawn from the end of the wharf +to a windmill farther along the shore, cut precisely in half the line +of the triangle along which the Italians must escape to reach the land. +This line made it easy for us to determine how far to let them run away +before we bestirred ourselves in pursuit. Day after day we would +watch them through our glasses as they rowed leisurely along toward +the half-way point; and as they drew close into line with the windmill, +we would leap into the boat and get up sail. At sight of our preparation, +they would turn and row slowly back to the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, +secure in the knowledge that we could not overtake them.</p> +<p>To guard against calms—when our salmon boat would be useless—we +also had in readiness a light rowing skiff equipped with spoon-oars. +But at such times, when the wind failed us, we were forced to row out +from the wharf as soon as they rowed from the ship. In the night-time, +on the other hand, we were compelled to patrol the immediate vicinity +of the ship; which we did, Charley and I standing four-hour watches +turn and turn about. The Italians, however, preferred the daytime +in which to escape, and so our long night vigils were without result.</p> +<p>“What makes me mad,” said Charley, “is our being +kept from our honest beds while those rascally lawbreakers are sleeping +soundly every night. But much good may it do them,” he threatened. +“I’ll keep them on that ship till the captain charges them +board, as sure as a sturgeon’s not a catfish!”</p> +<p>It was a tantalizing problem that confronted us. As long as +we were vigilant, they could not escape; and as long as they were careful, +we would be unable to catch them. Charley cudgelled his brains +continually, but for once his imagination failed him. It was a +problem apparently without other solution than that of patience. +It was a waiting game, and whichever waited the longer was bound to +win. To add to our irritation, friends of the Italians established +a code of signals with them from the shore, so that we never dared relax +the siege for a moment. And besides this, there were always one +or two suspicious-looking fishermen hanging around the Solano Wharf +and keeping watch on our actions. We could do nothing but “grin +and bear it,” as Charley said, while it took up all our time and +prevented us from doing other work.</p> +<p>The days went by, and there was no change in the situation. +Not that no attempts were made to change it. One night friends +from the shore came out in a skiff and attempted to confuse us while +the two Italians escaped. That they did not succeed was due to +the lack of a little oil on the ship’s davits. For we were +drawn back from the pursuit of the strange boat by the creaking of the +davits, and arrived at the <i>Lancashire</i> <i>Queen</i> just as the +Italians were lowering their skiff. Another night, fully half +a dozen skiffs rowed around us in the darkness, but we held on like +a leech to the side of the ship and frustrated their plan till they +grew angry and showered us with abuse. Charley laughed to himself +in the bottom of the boat.</p> +<p>“It’s a good sign, lad,” he said to me. “When +men begin to abuse, make sure they’re losing patience; and shortly +after they lose patience, they lose their heads. Mark my words, +if we only hold out, they’ll get careless some fine day, and then +we’ll get them.”</p> +<p>But they did not grow careless, and Charley confessed that this was +one of the times when all signs failed. Their patience seemed +equal to ours, and the second week of the siege dragged monotonously +along. Then Charley’s lagging imagination quickened sufficiently +to suggest a ruse. Peter Boyelen, a new patrolman and one unknown +to the fisher-folk, happened to arrive in Benicia and we took him into +our plan. We were as secret as possible about it, but in some +unfathomable way the friends ashore got word to the beleaguered Italians +to keep their eyes open.</p> +<p>On the night we were to put our ruse into effect, Charley and I took +up our usual station in our rowing skiff alongside the <i>Lancashire</i> +<i>Queen</i>. After it was thoroughly dark, Peter Boyelen came +out in a crazy duck boat, the kind you can pick up and carry away under +one arm. When we heard him coming along, paddling noisily, we +slipped away a short distance into the darkness, and rested on our oars. +Opposite the gangway, having jovially hailed the anchor-watch of the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i> and asked the direction of the <i>Scottish Chiefs</i>, +another wheat ship, he awkwardly capsized himself. The man who +was standing the anchor-watch ran down the gangway and hauled him out +of the water. This was what he wanted, to get aboard the ship; +and the next thing he expected was to be taken on deck and then below +to warm up and dry out. But the captain inhospitably kept him +perched on the lowest gang-way step, shivering miserably and with his +feet dangling in the water, till we, out of very pity, rowed in from +the darkness and took him off. The jokes and gibes of the awakened +crew sounded anything but sweet in our ears, and even the two Italians +climbed up on the rail and laughed down at us long and maliciously.</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” Charley said in a low voice, +which I only could hear. “I’m mighty glad it’s +not us that’s laughing first. We’ll save our laugh +to the end, eh, lad?”</p> +<p>He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he finished, but it seemed to +me that there was more determination than hope in his voice.</p> +<p>It would have been possible for us to secure the aid of United States +marshals and board the English ship, backed by Government authority. +But the instructions of the Fish Commission were to the effect that +the patrolmen should avoid complications, and this one, did we call +on the higher powers, might well end in a pretty international tangle.</p> +<p>The second week of the siege drew to its close, and there was no +sign of change in the situation. On the morning of the fourteenth +day the change came, and it came in a guise as unexpected and startling +to us as it was to the men we were striving to capture.</p> +<p>Charley and I, after our customary night vigil by the side of the +<i>Lancashire Queen</i>, rowed into the Solana Wharf.</p> +<p>“Hello!” cried Charley, in surprise. “In +the name of reason and common sense, what is that? Of all unmannerly +craft did you ever see the like?”</p> +<p>Well might he exclaim, for there, tied up to the dock, lay the strangest +looking launch I had ever seen. Not that it could be called a +launch, either, but it seemed to resemble a launch more than any other +kind of boat. It was seventy feet long, but so narrow was it, +and so bare of superstructure, that it appeared much smaller than it +really was. It was built wholly of steel, and was painted black. +Three smokestacks, a good distance apart and raking well aft, arose +in single file amidships; while the bow, long and lean and sharp as +a knife, plainly advertised that the boat was made for speed. +Passing under the stern, we read <i>Streak</i>, painted in small white +letters.</p> +<p>Charley and I were consumed with curiosity. In a few minutes +we were on board and talking with an engineer who was watching the sunrise +from the deck. He was quite willing to satisfy our curiosity, +and in a few minutes we learned that the <i>Streak</i> had come in after +dark from San Francisco; that this was what might be called the trial +trip; and that she was the property of Silas Tate, a young mining millionaire +of California, whose fad was high-speed yachts. There was some +talk about turbine engines, direct application of steam, and the absence +of pistons, rods, and cranks,—all of which was beyond me, for +I was familiar only with sailing craft; but I did understand the last +words of the engineer.</p> +<p>“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour, though +you wouldn’t think it,” he concluded proudly.</p> +<p>“Say it again, man! Say it again!” Charley exclaimed +in an excited voice.</p> +<p>“Four thousand horse-power and forty-five miles an hour,” +the engineer repeated, grinning good-naturedly.</p> +<p>“Where’s the owner?” was Charley’s next question. +“Is there any way I can speak to him?”</p> +<p>The engineer shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. +He’s asleep, you see.”</p> +<p>At that moment a young man in blue uniform came on deck farther aft +and stood regarding the sunrise.</p> +<p>“There he is, that’s him, that’s Mr. Tate,” +said the engineer.</p> +<p>Charley walked aft and spoke to him, and while he talked earnestly +the young man listened with an amused expression on his face. +He must have inquired about the depth of water close in to the shore +at Turner’s Shipyard, for I could see Charley making gestures +and explaining. A few minutes later he came back in high glee.</p> +<p>“Come on lad,” he said. “On to the dock with +you. We’ve got them!”</p> +<p>It was our good fortune to leave the <i>Streak</i> when we did, for +a little later one of the spy fishermen appeared. Charley and +I took up our accustomed places, on the stringer-piece, a little ahead +of the <i>Streak</i> and over our own boat, where we could comfortably +watch the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>. Nothing occurred till about +nine o’clock, when we saw the two Italians leave the ship and +pull along their side of the triangle toward the shore. Charley +looked as unconcerned as could be, but before they had covered a quarter +of the distance, he whispered to me:</p> +<p>“Forty-five miles an hour . . . nothing can save them . . . +they are ours!”</p> +<p>Slowly the two men rowed along till they were nearly in line with +the windmill. This was the point where we always jumped into our +salmon boat and got up the sail, and the two men, evidently expecting +it, seemed surprised when we gave no sign.</p> +<p>When they were directly in line with the windmill, as near to the +shore as to the ship, and nearer the shore than we had ever allowed +them before, they grew suspicious. We followed them through the +glasses, and saw them standing up in the skiff and trying to find out +what we were doing. The spy fisherman, sitting beside us on the +stringer-piece was likewise puzzled. He could not understand our +inactivity. The men in the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but stood +up again and scanned it, as if they thought we might be in hiding there. +But a man came out on the beach and waved a handkerchief to indicate +that the coast was clear. That settled them. They bent to +the oars to make a dash for it. Still Charley waited. Not +until they had covered three-quarters of the distance from the <i>Lancashire</i> +<i>Queen</i>, which left them hardly more than a quarter of a mile to +gain the shore, did Charley slap me on the shoulder and cry:</p> +<p>“They’re ours! They’re ours!”</p> +<p>We ran the few steps to the side of the <i>Streak</i> and jumped +aboard. Stern and bow lines were cast off in a jiffy. The +<i>Streak</i> shot ahead and away from the wharf. The spy fisherman +we had left behind on the stringer-piece pulled out a revolver and fired +five shots into the air in rapid succession. The men in the skiff +gave instant heed to the warning, for we could see them pulling away +like mad.</p> +<p>But if they pulled like mad, I wonder how our progress can be described? +We fairly flew. So frightful was the speed with which we displaced +the water, that a wave rose up on either side our bow and foamed aft +in a series of three stiff, up-standing waves, while astern a great +crested billow pursued us hungrily, as though at each moment it would +fall aboard and destroy us. The <i>Streak</i> was pulsing and +vibrating and roaring like a thing alive. The wind of our progress +was like a gale—a forty-five-mile gale. We could not face +it and draw breath without choking and strangling. It blew the +smoke straight back from the mouths of the smoke-stacks at a direct +right angle to the perpendicular. In fact, we were travelling +as fast as an express train. “We just <i>streaked</i> it,” +was the way Charley told it afterward, and I think his description comes +nearer than any I can give.</p> +<p>As for the Italians in the skiff—hardly had we started, it +seemed to me, when we were on top of them. Naturally, we had to +slow down long before we got to them; but even then we shot past like +a whirlwind and were compelled to circle back between them and the shore. +They had rowed steadily, rising from the thwarts at every stroke, up +to the moment we passed them, when they recognized Charley and me. +That took the last bit of fight out of them. They hauled in their +oars, and sullenly submitted to arrest.</p> +<p>“Well, Charley,” Neil Partington said, as we discussed +it on the wharf afterward, “I fail to see where your boasted imagination +came into play this time.”</p> +<p>But Charley was true to his hobby. “Imagination?” +he demanded, pointing to the <i>Streak</i>. “Look at that! +just look at it! If the invention of that isn’t imagination, +I should like to know what is.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” he added, “it’s the other fellow’s +imagination, but it did the work all the same.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHARLEY’S COUP</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Perhaps our most laughable exploit on the fish patrol, and at the +same time our most dangerous one, was when we rounded in, at a single +haul, an even score of wrathful fishermen. Charley called it a +“coop,” having heard Neil Partington use the term; but I +think he misunderstood the word, and thought it meant “coop,” +to catch, to trap. The fishermen, however, coup or coop, must +have called it a Waterloo, for it was the severest stroke ever dealt +them by the fish patrol, while they had invited it by open and impudent +defiance of the law.</p> +<p>During what is called the “open season” the fishermen +might catch as many salmon as their luck allowed and their boats could +hold. But there was one important restriction. From sun-down +Saturday night to sun-up Monday morning, they were not permitted to +set a net. This was a wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission, +for it was necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity to +ascend the river and lay their eggs. And this law, with only an +occasional violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek fishermen +who caught salmon for the canneries and the market.</p> +<p>One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend +in Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was out +with its nets. Charley and I jumped into our salmon boat and started +for the scene of the trouble. With a light favoring wind at our +back we went through the Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun Bay, passed +the Ship Island Light, and came upon the whole fleet at work.</p> +<p>But first let me describe the method by which they worked. +The net used is what is known as a gill-net. It has a simple diamond-shaped +mesh which measures at least seven and one-half inches between the knots. +From five to seven and even eight hundred feet in length, these nets +are only a few feet wide. They are not stationary, but float with +the current, the upper edge supported on the surface by floats, the +lower edge sunk by means of leaden weights,</p> +<p>This arrangement keeps the net upright in the current and effectually +prevents all but the smaller fish from ascending the river. The +salmon, swimming near the surface, as is their custom, run their heads +through these meshes, and are prevented from going on through by their +larger girth of body, and from going back because of their gills, which +catch in the mesh. It requires two fishermen to set such a net,—one +to row the boat, while the other, standing in the stern, carefully pays +out the net. When it is all out, stretching directly across the +stream, the men make their boat fast to one end of the net and drift +along with it.</p> +<p>As we came upon the fleet of law-breaking fishermen, each boat two +or three hundred yards from its neighbors, and boats and nets dotting +the river as far as we could see, Charley said:</p> +<p>“I’ve only one regret, lad, and that is that I have’nt +a thousand arms so as to be able to catch them all. As it is, +we’ll only be able to catch one boat, for while we are tackling +that one it will be up nets and away with the rest.”</p> +<p>As we drew closer, we observed none of the usual flurry and excitement +which our appearance invariably produced. Instead, each boat lay +quietly by its net, while the fishermen favored us with not the slightest +attention.</p> +<p>“It’s curious,” Charley muttered. “Can +it be they don’t recognize us?”</p> +<p>I said that it was impossible, and Charley agreed; yet there was +a whole fleet, manned by men who knew us only too well, and who took +no more notice of us than if we were a hay scow or a pleasure yacht.</p> +<p>This did not continue to be the case, however, for as we bore down +upon the nearest net, the men to whom it belonged detached their boat +and rowed slowly toward the shore. The rest of the boats showed +no, sign of uneasiness.</p> +<p>“That’s funny,” was Charley’s remark. +“But we can confiscate the net, at any rate.”</p> +<p>We lowered sail, picked up one end of the net, and began to heave +it into the boat. But at the first heave we heard a bullet zip-zipping +past us on the water, followed by the faint report of a rifle. +The men who had rowed ashore were shooting at us. At the next +heave a second bullet went zipping past, perilously near. Charley +took a turn around a pin and sat down. There were no more shots. +But as soon as he began to heave in, the shooting recommenced.</p> +<p>“That settles it,” he said, flinging the end of the net +overboard. “You fellows want it worse than we do, and you +can have it.”</p> +<p>We rowed over toward the next net, for Charley was intent on finding +out whether or not we were face to face with an organized defiance. +As we approached, the two fishermen proceeded to cast off from their +net and row ashore, while the first two rowed back and made fast to +the net we had abandoned. And at the second net we were greeted +by rifle shots till we desisted and went on to the third, where the +manoeuvre was again repeated.</p> +<p>Then we gave it up, completely routed, and hoisted sail and started +on the long windward beat back to Benicia. A number of Sundays +went by, on each of which the law was persistently violated. Yet, +short of an armed force of soldiers, we could do nothing. The +fishermen had hit upon a new idea and were using it for all it was worth, +while there seemed no way by which we could get the better of them.</p> +<p>About this time Neil Partington happened along from the Lower Bay, +where he had been for a number of weeks. With him was Nicholas, +the Greek boy who had helped us in our raid on the oyster pirates, and +the pair of them took a hand. We made our arrangements carefully. +It was planned that while Charley and I tackled the nets, they were +to be hidden ashore so as to ambush the fishermen who landed to shoot +at us.</p> +<p>It was a pretty plan. Even Charley said it was. But we +reckoned not half so well as the Greeks. They forestalled us by +ambushing Neil and Nicholas and taking them prisoners, while, as of +old, bullets whistled about our ears when Charley and I attempted to +take possession of the nets. When we were again beaten off, Neil +Partington and Nicholas were released. They were rather shamefaced +when they put in an appearance, and Charley chaffed them unmercifully. +But Neil chaffed back, demanding to know why Charley’s imagination +had not long since overcome the difficulty.</p> +<p>“Just you wait; the idea’ll come all right,” Charley +promised.</p> +<p>“Most probably,” Neil agreed. “But I’m +afraid the salmon will be exterminated first, and then there will be +no need for it when it does come.”</p> +<p>Neil Partington, highly disgusted with his adventure, departed for +the Lower Bay, taking Nicholas with him, and Charley and I were left +to our own resources. This meant that the Sunday fishing would +be left to itself, too, until such time as Charley’s idea happened +along. I puzzled my head a good deal to find out some way of checkmating +the Greeks, as also did Charley, and we broached a thousand expedients +which on discussion proved worthless.</p> +<p>The fishermen, on the other hand, were in high feather, and their +boasts went up and down the river to add to our discomfiture. +Among all classes of them we became aware of a growing insubordination. +We were beaten, and they were losing respect for us. With the +loss of respect, contempt began to arise. Charley began to be +spoken of as the “olda woman,” and I received my rating +as the “pee-wee kid.” The situation was fast becoming +unbearable, and we knew that we should have to deliver a stunning stroke +at the Greeks in order to regain the old-time respect in which we had +stood.</p> +<p>Then one morning the idea came. We were down on Steamboat Wharf, +where the river steamers made their landings, and where we found a group +of amused long-shoremen and loafers listening to the hard-luck tale +of a sleepy-eyed young fellow in long sea-boots. He was a sort +of amateur fisherman, he said, fishing for the local market of Berkeley. +Now Berkeley was on the Lower Bay, thirty miles away. On the previous +night, he said, he had set his net and dozed off to sleep in the bottom +of the boat.</p> +<p>The next he knew it was morning, and he opened his eyes to find his +boat rubbing softly against the piles of Steamboat Wharf at Benicia. +Also he saw the river steamer <i>Apache</i> lying ahead of him, and +a couple of deck-hands disentangling the shreds of his net from the +paddle-wheel. In short, after he had gone to sleep, his fisherman’s +riding light had gone out, and the <i>Apache</i> had run over his net. +Though torn pretty well to pieces, the net in some way still remained +foul, and he had had a thirty-mile tow out of his course.</p> +<p>Charley nudged me with his elbow. I grasped his thought on +the instant, but objected:</p> +<p>“We can’t charter a steamboat.”</p> +<p>“Don’t intend to,” he rejoined. “But +let’s run over to Turner’s Shipyard. I’ve something +in my mind there that may be of use to us.”</p> +<p>And over we went to the shipyard, where Charley led the way to the +<i>Mary Rebecca</i>, lying hauled out on the ways, where she was being +cleaned and overhauled. She was a scow-schooner we both knew well, +carrying a cargo of one hundred and forty tons and a spread of canvas +greater than other schooner on the bay.</p> +<p>“How d’ye do, Ole,” Charley greeted a big blue-shirted +Swede who was greasing the jaws of the main gaff with a piece of pork +rind.</p> +<p>Ole grunted, puffed away at his pipe, and went on greasing. +The captain of a bay schooner is supposed to work with his hands just +as well as the men.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen verified Charley’s conjecture that the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i>, as soon as launched, would run up the San Joaquin River +nearly to Stockton for a load of wheat. Then Charley made his +proposition, and Ole Ericsen shook his head.</p> +<p>“Just a hook, one good-sized hook,” Charley pleaded.</p> +<p>“No, Ay tank not,” said Ole Ericsen. “Der +<i>Mary Rebecca</i> yust hang up on efery mud-bank with that hook. +Ay don’t want to lose der <i>Mary</i> <i>Rebecca</i>. She’s +all Ay got.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” Charley hurried to explain. “We +can put the end of the hook through the bottom from the outside, and +fasten it on the inside with a nut. After it’s done its +work, why, all we have to do is to go down into the hold, unscrew the +nut, and out drops the hook. Then drive a wooden peg into the +hole, and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> will be all right again.”</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen was obstinate for a long time; but in the end, after +we had had dinner with him, he was brought round to consent.</p> +<p>“Ay do it, by Yupiter!” he said, striking one huge fist +into the palm of the other hand. “But yust hurry you up +wid der hook. Der <i>Mary</i> <i>Rebecca</i> slides into der water +to-night.”</p> +<p>It was Saturday, and Charley had need to hurry. We headed for +the shipyard blacksmith shop, where, under Charley’s directions, +a most generously curved book of heavy steel was made. Back we +hastened to the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>. Aft of the great centre-board +case, through what was properly her keel, a hole was bored. The +end of the hook was inserted from the outside, and Charley, on the inside, +screwed the nut on tightly. As it stood complete, the hook projected +over a foot beneath the bottom of the schooner. Its curve was +something like the curve of a sickle, but deeper.</p> +<p>In the late afternoon the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> was launched, and preparations +were finished for the start up-river next morning. Charley and +Ole intently studied the evening sky for signs of wind, for without +a good breeze our project was doomed to failure. They agreed that +there were all the signs of a stiff westerly wind—not the ordinary +afternoon sea-breeze, but a half-gale, which even then was springing +up.</p> +<p>Next morning found their predictions verified. The sun was +shining brightly, but something more than a half-gale was shrieking +up the Carquinez Straits, and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> got under way +with two reefs in her mainsail and one in her foresail. We found +it quite rough in the Straits and in Suisun Bay; but as the water grew +more land-locked it became calm, though without let-up in the wind.</p> +<p>Off Ship Island Light the reefs were shaken out, and at Charley’s +suggestion a big fisherman’s staysail was made all ready for hoisting, +and the maintopsail, bunched into a cap at the masthead, was overhauled +so that it could be set on an instant’s notice.</p> +<p>We were tearing along, wing-and-wing, before the wind, foresail to +starboard and mainsail to port, as we came upon the salmon fleet. +There they were, boats and nets, as on that first Sunday when they had +bested us, strung out evenly over the river as far as we could see. +A narrow space on the right-hand side of the channel was left clear +for steamboats, but the rest of the river was covered with the wide-stretching +nets. The narrow space was our logical course, but Charley, at +the wheel, steered the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> straight for the nets. +This did not cause any alarm among the fishermen, because up-river sailing +craft are always provided with “shoes” on the ends of their +keels, which permit them to slip over the nets without fouling them.</p> +<p>“Now she takes it!” Charley cried, as we dashed across +the middle of a line of floats which marked a net. At one end +of this line was a small barrel buoy, at the other the two fishermen +in their boat. Buoy and boat at once began to draw together, and +the fishermen to cry out, as they were jerked after us. A couple +of minutes later we hooked a second net, and then a third, and in this +fashion we tore straight up through the centre of the fleet.</p> +<p>The consternation we spread among the fishermen was tremendous. +As fast as we hooked a net the two ends of it, buoy and boat, came together +as they dragged out astern; and so many buoys and boats, coming together +at such breakneck speed, kept the fishermen on the jump to avoid smashing +into one another. Also, they shouted at us like mad to heave to +into the wind, for they took it as some drunken prank on the part of +scow-sailors, little dreaming that we were the fish patrol.</p> +<p>The drag of a single net is very heavy, and Charley and Ole Ericsen +decided that even in such a wind ten nets were all the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> +could take along with her. So when we had hooked ten nets, with +ten boats containing twenty men streaming along behind us, we veered +to the left out of the fleet and headed toward Collinsville.</p> +<p>We were all jubilant. Charley was handling the wheel as though +he were steering the winning yacht home in a race. The two sailors +who made up the crew of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>, were grinning and joking. +Ole Ericsen was rubbing his huge hands in child-like glee.</p> +<p>“Ay tank you fish patrol fallers never ban so lucky as when +you sail with Ole Ericsen,” he was saying, when a rifle cracked +sharply astern, and a bullet gouged along the newly painted cabin, glanced +on a nail, and sang shrilly onward into space.</p> +<p>This was too much for Ole Ericsen. At sight of his beloved +paintwork thus defaced, he jumped up and shook his fist at the fishermen; +but a second bullet smashed into the cabin not six inches from his head, +and he dropped down to the deck under cover of the rail.</p> +<p>All the fishermen had rifles, and they now opened a general fusillade. +We were all driven to cover—even Charley, who was compelled to +desert the wheel. Had it not been for the heavy drag of the nets, +we would inevitably have broached to at the mercy of the enraged fishermen. +But the nets, fastened to the bottom of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> well +aft, held her stern into the wind, and she continued to plough on, though +somewhat erratically.</p> +<p>Charley, lying on the deck, could just manage to reach the lower +spokes of the wheel; but while he could steer after a fashion, it was +very awkward. Ole Ericsen bethought himself of a large piece of +sheet steel in the empty hold.</p> +<p>It was in fact a plate from the side of the <i>New</i> <i>Jersey</i>, +a steamer which had recently been wrecked outside the Golden Gate, and +in the salving of which the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> had taken part.</p> +<p>Crawling carefully along the deck, the two sailors, Ole, and myself +got the heavy plate on deck and aft, where we reared it as a shield +between the wheel and the fishermen. The bullets whanged and banged +against it till it rang like a bull’s-eye, but Charley grinned +in its shelter, and coolly went on steering.</p> +<p>So we raced along, behind us a howling, screaming bedlam of wrathful +Greeks, Collinsville ahead, and bullets spat-spatting all around us.</p> +<p>“Ole,” Charley said in a faint voice, “I don’t +know what we’re going to do.”</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen, lying on his back close to the rail and grinning upward +at the sky, turned over on his side and looked at him. “Ay +tank we go into Collinsville yust der same,” he said.</p> +<p>“But we can’t stop,” Charley groaned. “I +never thought of it, but we can’t stop.”</p> +<p>A look of consternation slowly overspread Ole Ericsen’s broad +face. It was only too true. We had a hornet’s nest +on our hands, and to stop at Collinsville would be to have it about +our ears.</p> +<p>“Every man Jack of them has a gun,” one of the sailors +remarked cheerfully.</p> +<p>“Yes, and a knife, too,” the other sailor added.</p> +<p>It was Ole Ericsen’s turn to groan. “What for a +Svaidish faller like me monkey with none of my biziness, I don’t +know,” he soliloquized.</p> +<p>A bullet glanced on the stern and sang off to starboard like a spiteful +bee. “There’s nothing to do but plump the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> ashore and run for it,” was the verdict of the first +cheerful sailor.</p> +<p>“And leaf der <i>Mary Rebecca</i>?” Ole demanded, with +unspeakable horror in his voice.</p> +<p>“Not unless you want to,” was the response. “But +I don’t want to be within a thousand miles of her when those fellers +come aboard”—indicating the bedlam of excited Greeks towing +behind.</p> +<p>We were right in at Collinsville then, and went foaming by within +biscuit-toss of the wharf.</p> +<p>“I only hope the wind holds out,” Charley said, stealing +a glance at our prisoners.</p> +<p>“What of der wind?” Ole demanded disconsolately. +“Der river will not hold out, and then . . . and then . . .”</p> +<p>“It’s head for tall timber, and the Greeks take the hindermost,” +adjudged the cheerful sailor, while Ole was stuttering over what would +happen when we came to the end of the river.</p> +<p>We had now reached a dividing of the ways. To the left was +the mouth of the Sacramento River, to the right the mouth of the San +Joaquin. The cheerful sailor crept forward and jibed over the +foresail as Charley put the helm to starboard and we swerved to the +right into the San Joaquin. The wind, from which we had been running +away on an even keel, now caught us on our beam, and the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> +was pressed down on her port side as if she were about to capsize.</p> +<p>Still we dashed on, and still the fishermen dashed on behind. +The value of their nets was greater than the fines they would have to +pay for violating the fish laws; so to cast off from their nets and +escape, which they could easily do, would profit them nothing. +Further, they remained by their nets instinctively, as a sailor remains +by his ship. And still further, the desire for vengeance was roused, +and we could depend upon it that they would follow us to the ends of +the earth, if we undertook to tow them that far.</p> +<p>The rifle-firing had ceased, and we looked astern to see what our +prisoners were doing. The boats were strung along at unequal distances +apart, and we saw the four nearest ones bunching together. This +was done by the boat ahead trailing a small rope astern to the one behind. +When this was caught, they would cast off from their net and heave in +on the line till they were brought up to the boat in front. So +great was the speed at which we were travelling, however, that this +was very slow work. Sometimes the men would strain to their utmost +and fail to get in an inch of the rope; at other times they came ahead +more rapidly.</p> +<p>When the four boats were near enough together for a man to pass from +one to another, one Greek from each of three got into the nearest boat +to us, taking his rifle with him. This made five in the foremost +boat, and it was plain that their intention was to board us. This +they undertook to do, by main strength and sweat, running hand over +hand the float-line of a net. And though it was slow, and they +stopped frequently to rest, they gradually drew nearer.</p> +<p>Charley smiled at their efforts, and said, “Give her the topsail, +Ole.”</p> +<p>The cap at the mainmast head was broken out, and sheet and downhaul +pulled flat, amid a scattering rifle fire from the boats; and the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> lay over and sprang ahead faster than ever.</p> +<p>But the Greeks were undaunted. Unable, at the increased speed, +to draw themselves nearer by means of their hands, they rigged from +the blocks of their boat sail what sailors call a “watch-tackle.” +One of them, held by the legs by his mates, would lean far over the +bow and make the tackle fast to the float-line. Then they would +heave in on the tackle till the blocks were together, when the manoeuvre +would be repeated.</p> +<p>“Have to give her the staysail,” Charley said.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen looked at the straining <i>Mary</i> <i>Rebecca</i> and +shook his head. “It will take der masts out of her,” +he said.</p> +<p>“And we’ll be taken out of her if you don’t,” +Charley replied.</p> +<p>Ole shot an anxious glance at his masts, another at the boat load +of armed Greeks, and consented.</p> +<p>The five men were in the bow of the boat—a bad place when a +craft is towing. I was watching the behavior of their boat as +the great fisherman’s staysail, far, far larger than the top-sail +and used only in light breezes, was broken out. As the <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> lurched forward with a tremendous jerk, the nose of the +boat ducked down into the water, and the men tumbled over one another +in a wild rush into the stern to save the boat from being dragged sheer +under water.</p> +<p>“That settles them!” Charley remarked, though he was +anxiously studying the behavior of the <i>Mary Rebecca</i>, which was +being driven under far more canvas than she was rightly able to carry.</p> +<p>“Next stop is Antioch!” announced the cheerful sailor, +after the manner of a railway conductor. “And next comes +Merryweather!”</p> +<p>“Come here, quick,” Charley said to me.</p> +<p>I crawled across the deck and stood upright beside him in the shelter +of the sheet steel.</p> +<p>“Feel in my inside pocket,” he commanded, “and +get my notebook. That’s right. Tear out a blank page +and write what I tell you.”</p> +<p>And this is what I wrote:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Telephone to Merryweather, to the sheriff, the constable, or the +judge. Tell them we are coming and to turn out the town. +Arm everybody. Have them down on the wharf to meet us or we are +gone gooses.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>“Now make it good and fast to that marlin-spike, and stand +by to toss it ashore.”</p> +<p>I did as he directed. By then we were close to Antioch. +The wind was shouting through our rigging, the <i>Mary Rebecca</i> was +half over on her side and rushing ahead like an ocean greyhound. +The seafaring folk of Antioch had seen us breaking out topsail and staysail, +a most reckless performance in such weather, and had hurried to the +wharf-ends in little groups to find out what was the matter.</p> +<p>Straight down the water front we boomed, Charley edging in till a +man could almost leap ashore. When he gave the signal I tossed +the marlinspike. It struck the planking of the wharf a resounding +smash, bounced along fifteen or twenty feet, and was pounced upon by +the amazed onlookers.</p> +<p>It all happened in a flash, for the next minute Antioch was behind +and we were heeling it up the San Joaquin toward Merryweather, six miles +away. The river straightened out here into its general easterly +course, and we squared away before the wind, wing-and-wing once more, +the foresail bellying out to starboard.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen seemed sunk into a state of stolid despair. Charley +and the two sailors were looking hopeful, as they had good reason to +be. Merryweather was a coal-mining town, and, it being Sunday, +it was reasonable to expect the men to be in town. Further, the +coal-miners had never lost any love for the Greek fishermen, and were +pretty certain to render us hearty assistance.</p> +<p>We strained our eyes for a glimpse of the town, and the first sight +we caught of it gave us immense relief. The wharves were black +with men. As we came closer, we could see them still arriving, +stringing down the main street, guns in their hands and on the run. +Charley glanced astern at the fishermen with a look of ownership in +his eye which till then had been missing. The Greeks were plainly +overawed by the display of armed strength and were putting their own +rifles away.</p> +<p>We took in topsail and staysail, dropped the main peak, and as we +got abreast of the principal wharf jibed the mainsail. The <i>Mary +Rebecca</i> shot around into the wind, the captive fishermen describing +a great arc behind her, and forged ahead till she lost way, when lines +we’re flung ashore and she was made fast. This was accomplished +under a hurricane of cheers from the delighted miners.</p> +<p>Ole Ericsen heaved a great sigh. “Ay never tank Ay see +my wife never again,” he confessed.</p> +<p>“Why, we were never in any danger,” said Charley.</p> +<p>Ole looked at him incredulously.</p> +<p>“Sure, I mean it,” Charley went on. “All +we had to do, any time, was to let go our end—as I am going to +do now, so that those Greeks can untangle their nets.”</p> +<p>He went below with a monkey-wrench, unscrewed the nut, and let the +hook drop off. When the Greeks had hauled their nets into their +boats and made everything shipshape, a posse of citizens took them off +our hands and led them away to jail.</p> +<p>“Ay tank Ay ban a great big fool,” said Ole Ericsen. +But he changed his mind when the admiring townspeople crowded aboard +to shake hands with him, and a couple of enterprising newspaper men +took photographs of the <i>Mary</i> <i>Rebecca</i> and her captain.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>DEMETRIOS CONTOS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It must not be thought, from what I have told of the Greek fishermen, +that they were altogether bad. Far from it. But they were +rough men, gathered together in isolated communities and fighting with +the elements for a livelihood. They lived far away from the law +and its workings, did not understand it, and thought it tyranny. +Especially did the fish laws seem tyrannical. And because of this, +they looked upon the men of the fish patrol as their natural enemies.</p> +<p>We menaced their lives, or their living, which is the same thing, +in many ways. We confiscated illegal traps and nets, the materials +of which had cost them considerable sums and the making of which required +weeks of labor. We prevented them from catching fish at many times +and seasons, which was equivalent to preventing them from making as +good a living as they might have made had we not been in existence. +And when we captured them, they were brought into the courts of law, +where heavy cash fines were collected from them. As a result, +they hated us vindictively. As the dog is the natural enemy of +the cat, the snake of man, so were we of the fish patrol the natural +enemies of the fishermen.</p> +<p>But it is to show that they could act generously as well as hate +bitterly that this story of Demetrios Contos is told. Demetrios +Contos lived in Vallejo. Next to Big Alec, he was the largest, +bravest, and most influential man among the Greeks. He had given +us no trouble, and I doubt if he would ever have clashed with us had +he not invested in a new salmon boat. This boat was the cause +of all the trouble. He had had it built upon his own model, in +which the lines of the general salmon boat were somewhat modified.</p> +<p>To his high elation he found his new boat very fast—in fact, +faster than any other boat on the bay or rivers. Forthwith he +grew proud and boastful: and, our raid with the <i>Mary</i> <i>Rebecca</i> +on the Sunday salmon fishers having wrought fear in their hearts, he +sent a challenge up to Benicia. One of the local fishermen conveyed +it to us; it was to the effect that Demetrios Contos would sail up from +Vallejo on the following Sunday, and in the plain sight of Benicia set +his net and catch salmon, and that Charley Le Grant, patrolman, might +come and get him if he could. Of course Charley and I had heard +nothing of the new boat. Our own boat was pretty fast, and we +were not afraid to have a brush with any other that happened along.</p> +<p>Sunday came. The challenge had been bruited abroad, and the +fishermen and seafaring folk of Benicia turned out to a man, crowding +Steamboat Wharf till it looked like the grand stand at a football match. +Charley and I had been sceptical, but the fact of the crowd convinced +us that there was something in Demetrios Contos’s dare.</p> +<p>In the afternoon, when the sea-breeze had picked up in strength, +his sail hove into view as he bowled along before the wind. He +tacked a score of feet from the wharf, waved his hand theatrically, +like a knight about to enter the lists, received a hearty cheer in return, +and stood away into the Straits for a couple of hundred yards. +Then he lowered sail, and, drifting the boat sidewise by means of the +wind, proceeded to set his net. He did not set much of it, possibly +fifty feet; yet Charley and I were thunderstruck at the man’s +effrontery. We did not know at the time, but we learned afterward, +that the net he used was old and worthless. It <i>could</i> catch +fish, true; but a catch of any size would have torn it to pieces.</p> +<p>Charley shook his head and said:</p> +<p>“I confess, it puzzles me. What if he has out only fifty +feet? He could never get it in if we once started for him. +And why does he come here anyway, flaunting his law-breaking in our +faces? Right in our home town, too.”</p> +<p>Charley’s voice took on an aggrieved tone, and he continued +for some minutes to inveigh against the brazenness of Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>In the meantime, the man in question was lolling in the stern of +his boat and watching the net floats. When a large fish is meshed +in a gill-net, the floats by their agitation advertise the fact. +And they evidently advertised it to Demetrios, for he pulled in about +a dozen feet of net, and held aloft for a moment, before he flung it +into the bottom of the boat, a big, glistening salmon. It was +greeted by the audience on the wharf with round after round of cheers. +This was more than Charley could stand.</p> +<p>“Come on, lad,” he called to me; and we lost no time +jumping into our salmon boat and getting up sail.</p> +<p>The crowd shouted warning to Demetrios, and as we darted out from +the wharf we saw him slash his worthless net clear with a long knife. +His sail was all ready to go up, and a moment later it fluttered in +the sunshine. He ran aft, drew in the sheet, and filled on the +long tack toward the Contra Costa Hills.</p> +<p>By this time we were not more than thirty feet astern. Charley +was jubilant. He knew our boat was fast, and he knew, further, +that in fine sailing few men were his equals. He was confident +that we should surely catch Demetrios, and I shared his confidence. +But somehow we did not seem to gain.</p> +<p>It was a pretty sailing breeze. We were gliding sleekly through +the water, but Demetrios was slowly sliding away from us. And +not only was he going faster, but he was eating into the wind a fraction +of a point closer than we. This was sharply impressed upon us +when he went about under the Contra Costa Hills and passed us on the +other tack fully one hundred feet dead to windward.</p> +<p>“Whew!” Charley exclaimed. “Either that boat +is a daisy, or we’ve got a five-gallon coal-oil can fast to our +keel!”</p> +<p>It certainly looked it one way or the other. And by the time +Demetrios made the Sonoma Hills, on the other side of the Straits, we +were so hopelessly outdistanced that Charley told me to slack off the +sheet, and we squared away for Benicia. The fishermen on Steamboat +Wharf showered us with ridicule when we returned and tied up. +Charley and I got out and walked away, feeling rather sheepish, for +it is a sore stroke to one’s pride when he thinks he has a good +boat and knows how to sail it, and another man comes along and beats +him.</p> +<p>Charley mooned over it for a couple of days; then word was brought +to us, as before, that on the next Sunday Demetrios Contos would repeat +his performance. Charley roused himself. He had our boat +out of the water, cleaned and repainted its bottom, made a trifling +alteration about the centre-board, overhauled the running gear, and +sat up nearly all of Saturday night sewing on a new and much larger +sail. So large did he make it, in fact, that additional ballast +was imperative, and we stowed away nearly five hundred extra pounds +of old railroad iron in the bottom of the boat.</p> +<p>Sunday came, and with it came Demetrios Contos, to break the law +defiantly in open day. Again we had the afternoon sea-breeze, +and again Demetrios cut loose some forty or more feet of his rotten +net, and got up sail and under way under our very noses. But he +had anticipated Charley’s move, and his own sail peaked higher +than ever, while a whole extra cloth had been added to the after leech.</p> +<p>It was nip and tuck across to the Contra Costa Hills, neither of +us seeming to gain or to lose. But by the time we had made the +return tack to the Sonoma Hills, we could see that, while we footed +it at about equal speed, Demetrios had eaten into the wind the least +bit more than we. Yet Charley was sailing our boat as finely and +delicately as it was possible to sail it, and getting more out of it +than he ever had before.</p> +<p>Of course, he could have drawn his revolver and fired at Demetrios; +but we had long since found it contrary to our natures to shoot at a +fleeing man guilty of only a petty offence. Also a sort of tacit +agreement seemed to have been reached between the patrolmen and the +fishermen. If we did not shoot while they ran away, they, in turn, +did not fight if we once laid hands on them. Thus Demetrios Contos +ran away from us, and we did no more than try our best to overtake him; +and, in turn, if our boat proved faster than his, or was sailed better, +he would, we knew, make no resistance when we caught up with him.</p> +<p>With our large sails and the healthy breeze romping up the Carquinez +Straits, we found that our sailing was what is called “ticklish.” +We had to be constantly on the alert to avoid a capsize, and while Charley +steered I held the main-sheet in my hand with but a single turn round +a pin, ready to let go at any moment. Demetrios, we could see, +sailing his boat alone, had his hands full.</p> +<p>But it was a vain undertaking for us to attempt to catch him. +Out of his inner consciousness he had evolved a boat that was better +than ours. And though Charley sailed fully as well, if not the +least bit better, the boat he sailed was not so good as the Greek’s.</p> +<p>“Slack away the sheet,” Charley commanded; and as our +boat fell off before the wind, Demetrios’s mocking laugh floated +down to us.</p> +<p>Charley shook his head, saying, “It’s no use. Demetrios +has the better boat. If he tries his performance again, we must +meet it with some new scheme.”</p> +<p>This time it was my imagination that came to the rescue.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter,” I suggested, on the Wednesday +following, “with my chasing Demetrios in the boat next Sunday, +while you wait for him on the wharf at Vallejo when he arrives?”</p> +<p>Charley considered it a moment and slapped his knee.</p> +<p>“A good idea! You’re beginning to use that head +of yours. A credit to your teacher, I must say.”</p> +<p>“But you mustn’t chase him too far,” he went on, +the next moment, “or he’ll head out into San Pablo Bay instead +of running home to Vallejo, and there I’ll be, standing lonely +on the wharf and waiting in vain for him to arrive.”</p> +<p>On Thursday Charley registered an objection to my plan.</p> +<p>“Everybody’ll know I’ve gone to Vallejo, and you +can depend upon it that Demetrios will know, too. I’m afraid +we’ll have to give up the idea.”</p> +<p>This objection was only too valid, and for the rest of the day I +struggled under my disappointment. But that night a new way seemed +to open to me, and in my eagerness I awoke Charley from a sound sleep.</p> +<p>“Well,” he grunted, “what’s the matter? +House afire?”</p> +<p>“No,” I replied, “but my head is. Listen +to this. On Sunday you and I will be around Benicia up to the +very moment Demetrios’s sail heaves into sight. This will +lull everybody’s suspicions. Then, when Demetrios’s +sail does heave in sight, do you stroll leisurely away and up-town. +All the fishermen will think you’re beaten and that you know you’re +beaten.”</p> +<p>“So far, so good,” Charley commented, while I paused +to catch breath.</p> +<p>“And very good indeed,” I continued proudly. “You +stroll carelessly up-town, but when you’re once out of sight you +leg it for all you’re worth for Dan Maloney’s. Take +the little mare of his, and strike out on the country road for Vallejo. +The road’s in fine condition, and you can make it in quicker time +than Demetrios can beat all the way down against the wind.”</p> +<p>“And I’ll arrange right away for the mare, first thing +in the morning,” Charley said, accepting the modified plan without +hesitation.</p> +<p>“But, I say,” he said, a little later, this time waking +<i>me</i> out of a sound sleep.</p> +<p>I could hear him chuckling in the dark.</p> +<p>“I say, lad, isn’t it rather a novelty for the fish patrol +to be taking to horseback?”</p> +<p>“Imagination,” I answered. “It’s what +you’re always preaching—‘keep thinking one thought +ahead of the other fellow, and you’re bound to win out.’”</p> +<p>“He! he!” he chuckled. “And if one thought +ahead, including a mare, doesn’t take the other fellow’s +breath away this time, I’m not your humble servant, Charley Le +Grant.”</p> +<p>“But can you manage the boat alone?” he asked, on Friday. +“Remember, we’ve a ripping big sail on her.”</p> +<p>I argued my proficiency so well that he did not refer to the matter +again till Saturday, when he suggested removing one whole cloth from +the after leech. I guess it was the disappointment written on +my face that made him desist; for I, also, had a pride in my boat-sailing +abilities, and I was almost wild to get out alone with the big sail +and go tearing down the Carquinez Straits in the wake of the flying +Greek.</p> +<p>As usual, Sunday and Demetrios Contos arrived together. It +had become the regular thing for the fishermen to assemble on Steamboat +Wharf to greet his arrival and to laugh at our discomfiture. He +lowered sail a couple of hundred yards out and set his customary fifty +feet of rotten net.</p> +<p>“I suppose this nonsense will keep up as long as his old net +holds out,” Charley grumbled, with intention, in the hearing of +several of the Greeks.</p> +<p>“Den I give-a heem my old-a net-a,” one of them spoke +up, promptly and maliciously,</p> +<p>“I don’t care,” Charley answered. “I’ve +got some old net myself he can have—if he’ll come around +and ask for it.”</p> +<p>They all laughed at this, for they could afford to be sweet-tempered +with a man so badly outwitted as Charley was.</p> +<p>“Well, so long, lad,” Charley called to me a moment later. +“I think I’ll go up-town to Maloney’s.”</p> +<p>“Let me take the boat out?” I asked.</p> +<p>“If you want to,” was his answer, as he turned on his +heel and walked slowly away.</p> +<p>Demetrios pulled two large salmon out of his net, and I jumped into +the boat. The fishermen crowded around in a spirit of fun, and +when I started to get up sail overwhelmed me with all sorts of jocular +advice. They even offered extravagant bets to one another that +I would surely catch Demetrios, and two of them, styling themselves +the committee of judges, gravely asked permission to come along with +me to see how I did it.</p> +<p>But I was in no hurry. I waited to give Charley all the time +I could, and I pretended dissatisfaction with the stretch of the sail +and slightly shifted the small tackle by which the huge sprit forces +up the peak. It was not until I was sure that Charley had reached +Dan Maloney’s and was on the little mare’s back, that I +cast off from the wharf and gave the big sail to the wind. A stout +puff filled it and suddenly pressed the lee gunwale down till a couple +of buckets of water came inboard. A little thing like this will +happen to the best small-boat sailors, and yet, though I instantly let +go the sheet and righted, I was cheered sarcastically, as though I had +been guilty of a very awkward blunder.</p> +<p>When Demetrios saw only one person in the fish patrol boat, and that +one a boy, he proceeded to play with me. Making a short tack out, +with me not thirty feet behind, he returned, with his sheet a little +free, to Steamboat Wharf. And there he made short tacks, and turned +and twisted and ducked around, to the great delight of his sympathetic +audience. I was right behind him all the time, and I dared to +do whatever he did, even when he squared away before the wind and jibed +his big sail over—a most dangerous trick with such a sail in such +a wind.</p> +<p>He depended upon the brisk sea breeze and the strong ebb-tide, which +together kicked up a nasty sea, to bring me to grief. But I was +on my mettle, and never in all my life did I sail a boat better than +on that day. I was keyed up to concert pitch, my brain was working +smoothly and quickly, my hands never fumbled once, and it seemed that +I almost divined the thousand little things which a small-boat sailor +must be taking into consideration every second.</p> +<p>It was Demetrios who came to grief instead. Something went +wrong with his centre-board, so that it jammed in the case and would +not go all the way down. In a moment’s breathing space, +which he had gained from me by a clever trick, I saw him working impatiently +with the centre-board, trying to force it down. I gave him little +time, and he was compelled quickly to return to the tiller and sheet.</p> +<p>The centre-board made him anxious. He gave over playing with +me, and started on the long beat to Vallejo. To my joy, on the +first long tack across, I found that I could eat into the wind just +a little bit closer than he. Here was where another man in the +boat would have been of value to him; for, with me but a few feet astern, +he did not dare let go the tiller and run amidships to try to force +down the centre-board.</p> +<p>Unable to hang on as close in the eye of the wind as formerly, he +proceeded to slack his sheet a trifle and to ease off a bit, in order +to outfoot me. This I permitted him to do till I had worked to +windward, when I bore down upon him. As I drew close, he feinted +at coming about. This led me to shoot into the wind to forestall +him. But it was only a feint, cleverly executed, and he held back +to his course while I hurried to make up lost ground.</p> +<p>He was undeniably smarter than I when it came to manoeuvring. +Time after time I all but had him, and each time he tricked me and escaped. +Besides, the wind was freshening, constantly, and each of us had his +hands full to avoid capsizing. As for my boat, it could not have +been kept afloat but for the extra ballast. I sat cocked over +the weather gunwale, tiller in one hand and sheet in the other; and +the sheet, with a single turn around a pin, I was very often forced +to let go in the severer puffs. This allowed the sail to spill +the wind, which was equivalent to taking off so much driving power, +and of course I lost ground. My consolation was that Demetrios +was as often compelled to do the same thing.</p> +<p>The strong ebb-tide, racing down the Straits in the teeth of the +wind, caused an unusually heavy and spiteful sea, which dashed aboard +continually. I was dripping wet, and even the sail was wet half-way +up the after leech. Once I did succeed in outmanoeuvring Demetrios, +so that my bow bumped into him amidships. Here was where I should +have had another man. Before I could run forward and leap aboard, +he shoved the boats apart with an oar, laughing mockingly in my face +as he did so.</p> +<p>We were now at the mouth of the Straits, in a bad stretch of water. +Here the Vallejo Straits and the Carquinez Straits rushed directly at +each other. Through the first flowed all the water of Napa River +and the great tide-lands; through the second flowed all the water of +Suisun Bay and the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers. And where +such immense bodies of water, flowing swiftly, clashed together, a terrible +tide-rip was produced. To make it worse, the wind howled up San +Pablo Bay for fifteen miles and drove in a tremendous sea upon the tide-rip.</p> +<p>Conflicting currents tore about in all directions, colliding, forming +whirlpools, sucks, and boils, and shooting up spitefully into hollow +waves which fell aboard as often from leeward as from windward. +And through it all, confused, driven into a madness of motion, thundered +the great smoking seas from San Pablo Bay.</p> +<p>I was as wildly excited as the water. The boat was behaving +splendidly, leaping and lurching through the welter like a race-horse. +I could hardly contain myself with the joy of it. The huge sail, +the howling wind, the driving seas, the plunging boat—I, a pygmy, +a mere speck in the midst of it, was mastering the elemental strife, +flying through it and over it, triumphant and victorious.</p> +<p>And just then, as I roared along like a conquering hero, the boat +received a frightful smash and came instantly to a dead stop. +I was flung forward and into the bottom. As I sprang up I caught +a fleeting glimpse of a greenish, barnacle-covered object, and knew +it at once for what it was, that terror of navigation, a sunken pile. +No man may guard against such a thing. Water-logged and floating +just beneath the surface, it was impossible to sight it in the troubled +water in time to escape.</p> +<p>The whole bow of the boat must have been crushed in, for in a few +seconds the boat was half full. Then a couple of seas filled it, +and it sank straight down, dragged to bottom by the heavy ballast. +So quickly did it all happen that I was entangled in the sail and drawn +under. When I fought my way to the surface, suffocating, my lungs +almost bursting, I could see nothing of the oars. They must have +been swept away by the chaotic currents. I saw Demetrios Contos +looking back from his boat, and heard the vindictive and mocking tones +of his voice as he shouted exultantly. He held steadily on his +course, leaving me to perish.</p> +<p>There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that wild confusion, +was at the best a matter of but a few moments. Holding my breath +and working with my hands, I managed to get off my heavy sea-boots and +my jacket. Yet there was very little breath I could catch to hold, +and I swiftly discovered that it was not so much a matter of swimming +as of breathing.</p> +<p>I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo whitecaps, +and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which flung themselves into +my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the strange sucks would grip my +legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce boiling, where, +even as I tried to catch my breath, a great whitecap would crash down +upon my head.</p> +<p>It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was breathing +more water than air, and drowning all the time. My senses began +to leave me, my head to whirl around. I struggled on, spasmodically, +instinctively, and was barely half conscious when I felt myself caught +by the shoulders and hauled over the gunwale of a boat.</p> +<p>For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face downward, +and with the water running out of my mouth. After a while, still +weak and faint, I turned around to see who was my rescuer. And +there, in the stern, sheet in one hand and tiller in the other, grinning +and nodding good-naturedly, sat Demetrios Contos. He had intended +to leave me to drown,—he said so afterward,—but his better +self had fought the battle, conquered, and sent him back to me.</p> +<p>“You all-a right?” he asked.</p> +<p>I managed to shape a “yes” on my lips, though I could +not yet speak.</p> +<p>“You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a,” he said. “So +good-a as a man.”</p> +<p>A compliment from Demetrios Contos was a compliment indeed, and I +keenly appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in acknowledgment.</p> +<p>We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he was +busy with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, made the +boat fast, and helped me out. Then it was, as we both stood on +the wharf, that Charley stepped out from behind a net-rack and put his +hand on Demetrios Contos’s arm.</p> +<p>“He saved my life, Charley,” I protested; “and +I don’t think he ought to be arrested.”</p> +<p>A puzzled expression came into Charley’s face, which cleared +immediately after, in a way it had when he made up his mind.</p> +<p>“I can’t help it, lad,” he said kindly. “I +can’t go back on my duty, and it’s plain duty to arrest +him. To-day is Sunday; there are two salmon in his boat which +he caught to-day. What else can I do?”</p> +<p>“But he saved my life,” I persisted, unable to make any +other argument.</p> +<p>Demetrios Contos’s face went black with rage when he learned +Charley’s judgment. He had a sense of being unfairly treated. +The better part of his nature had triumphed, he had performed a generous +act and saved a helpless enemy, and in return the enemy was taking him +to jail.</p> +<p>Charley and I were out of sorts with each other when we went back +to Benicia. I stood for the spirit of the law and not the letter; +but by the letter Charley made his stand. As far as he could see, +there was nothing else for him to do. The law said distinctly +that no salmon should be caught on Sunday. He was a patrolman, +and it was his duty to enforce that law. That was all there was +to it. He had done his duty, and his conscience was clear. +Nevertheless, the whole thing seemed unjust to me, and I felt very sorry +for Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>Two days later we went down to Vallejo to the trial. I had +to go along as a witness, and it was the most hateful task that I ever +performed in my life when I testified on the witness stand to seeing +Demetrios catch the two salmon Charley had captured him with.</p> +<p>Demetrios had engaged a lawyer, but his case was hopeless. +The jury was out only fifteen minutes, and returned a verdict of guilty. +The judge sentenced Demetrios to pay a fine of one hundred dollars or +go to jail for fifty days.</p> +<p>Charley stepped up to the clerk of the court. “I want +to pay that fine,” he said, at the same time placing five twenty-dollar +gold pieces on the desk. “It—it was the only way out +of it, lad,” he stammered, turning to me.</p> +<p>The moisture rushed into my eyes as I seized his hand. “I +want to pay—” I began.</p> +<p>“To pay your half?” he interrupted. “I certainly +shall expect you to pay it.”</p> +<p>In the meantime Demetrios had been informed by his lawyer that his +fee likewise had been paid by Charley.</p> +<p>Demetrios came over to shake Charley’s hand, and all his warm +Southern blood flamed in his face. Then, not to be outdone in +generosity, he insisted on paying his fine and lawyer’s fee himself, +and flew half-way into a passion because Charley refused to let him.</p> +<p>More than anything else we ever did, I think, this action of Charley’s +impressed upon the fishermen the deeper significance of the law. +Also Charley was raised high in their esteem, while I came in for a +little share of praise as a boy who knew how to sail a boat. Demetrios +Contos not only never broke the law again, but he became a very good +friend of ours, and on more than one occasion he ran up to Benicia to +have a gossip with us.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>YELLOW HANDKERCHIEF</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>“I’m not wanting to dictate to you, lad,” Charley +said; “but I’m very much against your making a last raid. +You’ve gone safely through rough times with rough men, and it +would be a shame to have something happen to you at the very end.”</p> +<p>“But how can I get out of making a last raid?” I demanded, +with the cocksureness of youth. “There always has to be +a last, you know, to anything.”</p> +<p>Charley crossed his legs, leaned back, and considered the problem. +“Very true. But why not call the capture of Demetrios Contos +the last? You’re back from it safe and sound and hearty, +for all your good wetting, and—and—” His voice +broke and he could not speak for a moment. “And I could +never forgive myself if anything happened to you now.”</p> +<p>I laughed at Charley’s fears while I gave in to the claims +of his affection, and agreed to consider the last raid already performed. +We had been together for two years, and now I was leaving the fish patrol +in order to go back and finish my education. I had earned and +saved money to put me through three years at the high school, and though +the beginning of the term was several months away, I intended doing +a lot of studying for the entrance examinations.</p> +<p>My belongings were packed snugly in a sea-chest, and I was all ready +to buy my ticket and ride down on the train to Oakland, when Neil Partington +arrived in Benicia. The <i>Reindeer</i> was needed immediately +for work far down on the Lower Bay, and Neil said he intended to run +straight for Oakland. As that was his home and as I was to live +with his family while going to school, he saw no reason, he said, why +I should not put my chest aboard and come along.</p> +<p>So the chest went aboard, and in the middle of the afternoon we hoisted +the <i>Reindeer’s</i> big mainsail and cast off. It was +tantalizing fall weather. The sea-breeze, which had blown steadily +all summer, was gone, and in its place were capricious winds and murky +skies which made the time of arriving anywhere extremely problematical. +We started on the first of the ebb, and as we slipped down the Carquinez +Straits, I looked my last for some time upon Benicia and the bight at +Turner’s Shipyard, where we had besieged the <i>Lancashire Queen</i>, +and had captured Big Alec, the King of the Greeks. And at the +mouth of the Straits I looked with not a little interest upon the spot +where a few days before I should have drowned but for the good that +was in the nature of Demetrios Contos.</p> +<p>A great wall of fog advanced across San Pablo Bay to meet us, and +in a few minutes the <i>Reindeer</i> was running blindly through the +damp obscurity. Charley, who was steering, seemed to have an instinct +for that kind of work. How he did it, he himself confessed that +he did not know; but he had a way of calculating winds, currents, distance, +time, drift, and sailing speed that was truly marvellous.</p> +<p>“It looks as though it were lifting,” Neil Partington +said, a couple of hours after we had entered the fog. “Where +do you say we are, Charley?”</p> +<p>Charley looked at his watch, “Six o’clock, and three +hours more of ebb,” he remarked casually.</p> +<p>“But where do you say we are?” Neil insisted.</p> +<p>Charley pondered a moment, and then answered, “The tide has +edged us over a bit out of our course, but if the fog lifts right now, +as it is going to lift, you’ll find we’re not more than +a thousand miles off McNear’s Landing.”</p> +<p>“You might be a little more definite by a few miles, anyway,” +Neil grumbled, showing by his tone that he disagreed.</p> +<p>“All right, then,” Charley said, conclusively, “not +less than a quarter of a mile, not more than a half.”</p> +<p>The wind freshened with a couple of little puffs, and the fog thinned +perceptibly.</p> +<p>“McNear’s is right off there,” Charley said, pointing +directly into the fog on our weather beam.</p> +<p>The three of us were peering intently in that direction, when the +<i>Reindeer</i> struck with a dull crash and came to a standstill. +We ran forward, and found her bowsprit entangled in the tanned rigging +of a short, chunky mast. She had collided, head on, with a Chinese +junk lying at anchor.</p> +<p>At the moment we arrived forward, five Chinese, like so many bees, +came swarming out of the little ’tween-decks cabin, the sleep +still in their eyes.</p> +<p>Leading them came a big, muscular man, conspicuous for his pock-marked +face and the yellow silk handkerchief swathed about his head. +It was Yellow Handkerchief, the Chinaman whom we had arrested for illegal +shrimp-fishing the year before, and who, at that time, had nearly sunk +the <i>Reindeer</i>, as he had nearly sunk it now by violating the rules +of navigation.</p> +<p>“What d’ye mean, you yellow-faced heathen, lying here +in a fairway without a horn a-going?” Charley cried hotly.</p> +<p>“Mean?” Neil calmly answered. “Just take +a look—that’s what he means.”</p> +<p>Our eyes followed the direction indicated by Neil’s finger, +and we saw the open amidships of the junk, half filled, as we found +on closer examination, with fresh-caught shrimps. Mingled with +the shrimps were myriads of small fish, from a quarter of an inch upward +in size.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief had lifted the trap-net at high-water slack, +and, taking advantage of the concealment offered by the fog, had boldly +been lying by, waiting to lift the net again at low-water slack.</p> +<p>“Well,” Neil hummed and hawed, “in all my varied +and extensive experience as a fish patrolman, I must say this is the +easiest capture I ever made. What’ll we do with them, Charley?”</p> +<p>“Tow the junk into San Rafael, of course,” came the answer. +Charley turned to me. “You stand by the junk, lad, and I’ll +pass you a towing line. If the wind doesn’t fail us, we’ll +make the creek before the tide gets too low, sleep at San Rafael, and +arrive in Oakland to-morrow by midday.”</p> +<p>So saying, Charley and Neil returned to the <i>Reindeer</i> and got +under way, the junk towing astern. I went aft and took charge +of the prize, steering by means of an antiquated tiller and a rudder +with large, diamond-shaped holes, through which the water rushed back +and forth.</p> +<p>By now the last of the fog had vanished, and Charley’s estimate +of our position was confirmed by the sight of McNear’s Landing +a short half-mile away. Following along the west shore, we rounded +Point Pedro in plain view of the Chinese shrimp villages, and a great +to-do was raised when they saw one of their junks towing behind the +familiar fish patrol sloop.</p> +<p>The wind, coming off the land, was rather puffy and uncertain, and +it would have been more to our advantage had it been stronger. +San Rafael Creek, up which we had to go to reach the town and turn over +our prisoners to the authorities, ran through wide-stretching marshes, +and was difficult to navigate on a falling tide, while at low tide it +was impossible to navigate at all. So, with the tide already half-ebbed, +it was necessary for us to make time. This the heavy junk prevented, +lumbering along behind and holding the <i>Reindeer</i> back by just +so much dead weight.</p> +<p>“Tell those coolies to get up that sail,” Charley finally +called to me. “We don’t want to hang up on the mud +flats for the rest of the night.”</p> +<p>I repeated the order to Yellow Handkerchief, who mumbled it huskily +to his men. He was suffering from a bad cold, which doubled him +up in convulsive coughing spells and made his eyes heavy and bloodshot. +This made him more evil-looking than ever, and when he glared viciously +at me I remembered with a shiver the close shave I had had with him +at the time of his previous arrest.</p> +<p>His crew sullenly tailed on to the halyards, and the strange, outlandish +sail, lateen in rig and dyed a warm brown, rose in the air. We +were sailing on the wind, and when Yellow Handkerchief flattened down +the sheet the junk forged ahead and the tow-line went slack. Fast +as the <i>Reindeer</i> could sail, the junk outsailed her; and to avoid +running her down I hauled a little closer on the wind. But the +junk likewise outpointed, and in a couple of minutes I was abreast of +the <i>Reindeer</i> and to windward. The tow-line had now tautened, +at right angles to the two boats, and the predicament was laughable.</p> +<p>“Cast off!” I shouted.</p> +<p>Charley hesitated.</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” I added. “Nothing +can happen. We’ll make the creek on this tack, and you’ll +be right behind me all the way up to San Rafael.”</p> +<p>At this Charley cast off, and Yellow Handkerchief sent one of his +men forward to haul in the line. In the gathering darkness I could +just make out the mouth of San Rafael Creek, and by the time we entered +it I could barely see its banks. The <i>Reindeer</i> was fully +five minutes astern, and we continued to leave her astern as we beat +up the narrow, winding channel. With Charley behind us, it seemed +I had little to fear from my five prisoners; but the darkness prevented +my keeping a sharp eye on them, so I transferred my revolver from my +trousers pocket to the side pocket of my coat, where I could more quickly +put my hand on it.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared, and that he knew it and +made use of it, subsequent events will show. He was sitting a +few feet away from me, on what then happened to be the weather side +of the junk. I could scarcely see the outlines of his form, but +I soon became convinced that he was slowly, very slowly, edging closer +to me. I watched him carefully. Steering with my left hand, +I slipped my right into my pocket and got hold of the revolver.</p> +<p>I saw him shift along for a couple of inches, and I was just about +to order him back—the words were trembling on the tip of my tongue—when +I was struck with great force by a heavy figure that had leaped through +the air upon me from the lee side. It was one of the crew. +He pinioned my right arm so that I could not withdraw my hand from my +pocket, and at the same time clapped his other hand over my mouth. +Of course, I could have struggled away from him and freed my hand or +gotten my mouth clear so that I might cry an alarm, but in a trice Yellow +Handkerchief was on top of me.</p> +<p>I struggled around to no purpose in the bottom of the junk, while +my legs and arms were tied and my mouth securely bound in what I afterward +found to be a cotton shirt. Then I was left lying in the bottom. +Yellow Handkerchief took the tiller, issuing his orders in whispers; +and from our position at the time, and from the alteration of the sail, +which I could dimly make out above me as a blot against the stars, I +knew the junk was being headed into the mouth of a small slough which +emptied at that point into San Rafael Creek.</p> +<p>In a couple of minutes we ran softly alongside the bank, and the +sail was silently lowered. The Chinese kept very quiet. +Yellow Handkerchief sat down in the bottom alongside of me, and I could +feel him straining to repress his raspy, hacking cough. Possibly +seven or eight minutes later I heard Charley’s voice as the <i>Reindeer</i> +went past the mouth of the slough.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” I could plainly +hear him saying to Neil, “that the lad has finished with the fish +patrol without accident.”</p> +<p>Here Neil said something which I could not catch, and then Charley’s +voice went on:</p> +<p>“The youngster takes naturally to the water, and if, when he +finishes high school, he takes a course in navigation and goes deep +sea, I see no reason why he shouldn’t rise to be master of the +finest and biggest ship afloat.”</p> +<p>It was all very flattering to me, but lying there, bound and gagged +by my own prisoners, with the voices growing faint and fainter as the +<i>Reindeer</i> slipped on through the darkness toward San Rafael, I +must say I was not in quite the proper situation to enjoy my smiling +future. With the <i>Reindeer</i> went my last hope. What +was to happen next I could not imagine, for the Chinese were a different +race from mine, and from what I knew I was confident that fair play +was no part of their make-up.</p> +<p>After waiting a few minutes longer, the crew hoisted the lateen sail, +and Yellow Handkerchief steered down toward the mouth of San Rafael +Creek. The tide was getting lower, and he had difficulty in escaping +the mud-banks. I was hoping he would run aground, but he succeeded +in making the Bay without accident.</p> +<p>As we passed out of the creek a noisy discussion arose, which I knew +related to me. Yellow Handkerchief was vehement, but the other +four as vehemently opposed him. It was very evident that he advocated +doing away with me and that they were afraid of the consequences. +I was familiar enough with the Chinese character to know that fear alone +restrained them. But what plan they offered in place of Yellow +Handkerchief’s murderous one, I could not make out.</p> +<p>My feelings, as my fate hung in the balance, may be guessed. +The discussion developed into a quarrel, in the midst of which Yellow +Handkerchief unshipped the heavy tiller and sprang toward me. +But his four companions threw themselves between, and a clumsy struggle +took place for possession of the tiller. In the end Yellow Handkerchief +was overcome, and sullenly returned to the steering, while they soundly +berated him for his rashness.</p> +<p>Not long after, the sail was run down and the junk slowly urged forward +by means of the sweeps. I felt it ground gently on the soft mud. +Three of the Chinese—they all wore long sea-boots—got over +the side, and the other two passed me across the rail. With Yellow +Handkerchief at my legs and his two companions at my shoulders, they +began to flounder along through the mud. After some time their +feet struck firmer footing, and I knew they were carrying me up some +beach. The location of this beach was not doubtful in my mind. +It could be none other than one of the Marin Islands, a group of rocky +islets which lay off the Marin County shore.</p> +<p>When they reached the firm sand that marked high tide, I was dropped, +and none too gently. Yellow Handkerchief kicked me spitefully +in the ribs, and then the trio floundered back through the mud to the +junk. A moment later I heard the sail go up and slat in the wind +as they drew in the sheet. Then silence fell, and I was left to +my own devices for getting free.</p> +<p>I remembered having seen tricksters writhe and squirm out of ropes +with which they were bound, but though I writhed and squirmed like a +good fellow, the knots remained as hard as ever, and there was no appreciable +slack. In the course of my squirming, however, I rolled over upon +a heap of clam-shells—the remains, evidently, of some yachting +party’s clam-bake. This gave me an idea. My hands +were tied behind my back; and, clutching a shell in them, I rolled over +and over, up the beach, till I came to the rocks I knew to be there.</p> +<p>Rolling around and searching, I finally discovered a narrow crevice, +into which I shoved the shell. The edge of it was sharp, and across +the sharp edge I proceeded to saw the rope that bound my wrists. +The edge of the shell was also brittle, and I broke it by bearing too +heavily upon it. Then I rolled back to the heap and returned with +as many shells as I could carry in both hands. I broke many shells, +cut my hands a number of times, and got cramps in my legs from my strained +position and my exertions.</p> +<p>While I was suffering from the cramps, and resting, I heard a familiar +halloo drift across the water. It was Charley, searching for me. +The gag in my mouth prevented me from replying, and I could only lie +there, helplessly fuming, while he rowed past the island and his voice +slowly lost itself in the distance.</p> +<p>I returned to the sawing process, and at the end of half an hour +succeeded in severing the rope. The rest was easy. My hands +once free, it was a matter of minutes to loosen my legs and to take +the gag out of my mouth. I ran around the island to make sure +it <i>was</i> an island and not by any chance a portion of the mainland. +An island it certainly was, one of the Marin group, fringed with a sandy +beach and surrounded by a sea of mud. Nothing remained but to +wait till daylight and to keep warm; for it was a cold, raw night for +California, with just enough wind to pierce the skin and cause one to +shiver.</p> +<p>To keep up the circulation, I ran around the island a dozen times +or so, and clambered across its rocky backbone as many times more—all +of which was of greater service to me, as I afterward discovered, than +merely to warm me up. In the midst of this exercise I wondered +if I had lost anything out of my pockets while rolling over and over +in the sand. A search showed the absence of my revolver and pocket-knife. +The first Yellow Handkerchief had taken; but the knife had been lost +in the sand.</p> +<p>I was hunting for it when the sound of rowlocks came to my ears. +At first, of course, I thought of Charley; but on second thought I knew +Charley would be calling out as he rowed along. A sudden premonition +of danger seized me. The Marin Islands are lonely places; chance +visitors in the dead of night are hardly to be expected. What +if it were Yellow Handkerchief? The sound made by the rowlocks +grew more distinct. I crouched in the sand and listened intently. +The boat, which I judged a small skiff from the quick stroke of the +oars, was landing in the mud about fifty yards up the beach. I +heard a raspy, hacking cough, and my heart stood still. It was +Yellow Handkerchief. Not to be robbed of his revenge by his more +cautious companions, he had stolen away from the village and come back +alone.</p> +<p>I did some swift thinking. I was unarmed and helpless on a +tiny islet, and a yellow barbarian, whom I had reason to fear, was coming +after me. Any place was safer than the island, and I turned instinctively +to the water, or rather to the mud. As he began to flounder ashore +through the mud, I started to flounder out into it, going over the same +course which the Chinese had taken in landing me and in returning to +the junk.</p> +<p>Yellow Handkerchief, believing me to be lying tightly bound, exercised +no care, but came ashore noisily. This helped me, for, under the +shield of his noise and making no more myself than necessary, I managed +to cover fifty feet by the time he had made the beach. Here I +lay down in the mud. It was cold and clammy, and made me shiver, +but I did not care to stand up and run the risk of being discovered +by his sharp eyes.</p> +<p>He walked down the beach straight to where he had left me lying, +and I had a fleeting feeling of regret at not being able to see his +surprise when he did not find me. But it was a very fleeting regret, +for my teeth were chattering with the cold.</p> +<p>What his movements were after that I had largely to deduce from the +facts of the situation, for I could scarcely see him in the dim starlight. +But I was sure that the first thing he did was to make the circuit of +the beach to learn if landings had been made by other boats. This +he would have known at once by the tracks through the mud.</p> +<p>Convinced that no boat had removed me from the island, he next started +to find out what had become of me. Beginning at the pile of clamshells, +he lighted matches to trace my tracks in the sand. At such times +I could see his villanous face plainly, and, when the sulphur from the +matches irritated his lungs, between the raspy cough that followed and +the clammy mud in which I was lying, I confess I shivered harder than +ever.</p> +<p>The multiplicity of my footprints puzzled him. Then the idea +that I might be out in the mud must have struck him, for he waded out +a few yards in my direction, and, stooping, with his eyes searched the +dim surface long and carefully. He could not have been more than +fifteen feet from me, and had he lighted a match he would surely have +discovered me.</p> +<p>He returned to the beach and clambered about, over the rocky backbone, +again hunting for me with lighted matches, The closeness of the shave +impelled me to further flight. Not daring to wade upright, on +account of the noise made by floundering and by the suck of the mud, +I remained lying down in the mud and propelled myself over its surface +by means of my hands. Still keeping the trail made by the Chinese +in going from and to the junk, I held on until I reached the water. +Into this I waded to a depth of three feet, and then I turned off to +the side on a line parallel with the beach.</p> +<p>The thought came to me of going toward Yellow Handkerchief’s +skiff and escaping in it, but at that very moment he returned to the +beach, and, as though fearing the very thing I had in mind, he slushed +out through the mud to assure himself that the skiff was safe. +This turned me in the opposite direction. Half swimming, half +wading, with my head just out of water and avoiding splashing, I succeeded +in putting about a hundred feet between myself and the spot where the +Chinese had begun to wade ashore from the junk. I drew myself +out on the mud and remained lying flat.</p> +<p>Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a search +of the island, and again he returned to the heap of clam-shells. +I knew what was running in his mind as well as he did himself. +No one could leave or land without making tracks in the mud. The +only tracks to be seen were those leading from his skiff and from where +the junk had been. I was not on the island. I must have +left it by one or the other of those two tracks. He had just been +over the one to his skiff, and was certain I had not left that way. +Therefore I could have left the island only by going over the tracks +of the junk landing. This he proceeded to verify by wading out +over them himself, lighting matches as he came along.</p> +<p>When he arrived at the point where I had first lain, I knew, by the +matches he burned and the time he took, that he had discovered the marks +left by my body. These he followed straight to the water and into +it, but in three feet of water he could no longer see them. On +the other hand, as the tide was still falling, he could easily make +out the impression made by the junk’s bow, and could have likewise +made out the impression of any other boat if it had landed at that particular +spot. But there was no such mark; and I knew that he was absolutely +convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the mud.</p> +<p>But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like +hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt it. +Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time. +I was hoping he would give me up and go, for by this time I was suffering +severely from the cold. At last he waded out to his skiff and +rowed away. What if this departure of Yellow Handkerchief’s +were a sham? What if he had done it merely to entice me ashore?</p> +<p>The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had made +a little too much noise with his oars as he rowed away. So I remained, +lying in the mud and shivering. I shivered till the muscles of +the small of my back ached and pained me as badly as the cold, and I +had need of all my self-control to force myself to remain in my miserable +situation.</p> +<p>It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, I thought +I could make out something moving on the beach. I watched intently, +but my ears were rewarded first, by a raspy cough I knew only too well. +Yellow Handkerchief had sneaked back, landed on the other side of the +island, and crept around to surprise me if I had returned.</p> +<p>After that, though hours passed without sign of him, I was afraid +to return to the island at all. On the other hand, I was almost +equally afraid that I should die of the exposure I was undergoing. +I had never dreamed one could suffer so. I grew so cold and numb, +finally, that I ceased to shiver. But my muscles and bones began +to ache in a way that was agony. The tide had long since begun +to rise, and, foot by foot, it drove me in toward the beach. High +water came at three o’clock, and at three o’clock I drew +myself up on the beach, more dead than alive, and too helpless to have +offered any resistance had Yellow Handkerchief swooped down upon me.</p> +<p>But no Yellow Handkerchief appeared. He had given me up and +gone back to Point Pedro. Nevertheless, I was in a deplorable, +not to say dangerous, condition. I could not stand upon my feet, +much less walk. My clammy, muddy garments clung to me like sheets +of ice. I thought I should never get them off. So numb and +lifeless were my fingers, and so weak was I, that it seemed to take +an hour to get off my shoes. I had not the strength to break the +porpoise-hide laces, and the knots defied me. I repeatedly beat +my hands upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them. Sometimes +I felt sure I was going to die.</p> +<p>But in the end,—after several centuries, it seemed to me,—I +got off the last of my clothes. The water was now close at hand, +and I crawled painfully into it and washed the mud from my naked body. +Still, I could not get on my feet and walk and I was afraid to lie still. +Nothing remained but to crawl weakly, like a snail, and at the cost +of constant pain, up and down the sand. I kept this up as long +as possible, but as the east paled with the coming of dawn I began to +succumb. The sky grew rosy-red, and the golden rim of the sun, +showing above the horizon, found me lying helpless and motionless among +the clam-shells.</p> +<p>As in a dream, I saw the familiar mainsail of the <i>Reindeer</i> +as she slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light puff of morning air. +This dream was very much broken. There are intervals I can never +recollect on looking back over it. Three things, however, I distinctly +remember: the first sight of the <i>Reindeer’s</i> mainsail; her +lying at anchor a few hundred feet away and a small boat leaving her +side; and the cabin stove roaring red-hot, myself swathed all over with +blankets, except on the chest and shoulders, which Charley was pounding +and mauling unmercifully, and my mouth and throat burning with the coffee +which Neil Partington was pouring down a trifle too hot.</p> +<p>But burn or no burn, I tell you it felt good. By the time we +arrived in Oakland I was as limber and strong as ever,—though +Charlie and Neil Partington were afraid I was going to have pneumonia, +and Mrs. Partington, for my first six months of school, kept an anxious +eye upon me to discover the first symptoms of consumption.</p> +<p>Time flies. It seems but yesterday that I was a lad of sixteen +on the fish patrol. Yet I know that I arrived this very morning +from China, with a quick passage to my credit, and master of the barkentine +<i>Harvester</i>. And I know that to-morrow morning I shall run +over to Oakland to see Neil Partington and his wife and family, and +later on up to Benicia to see Charley Le Grant and talk over old times. +No; I shall not go to Benicia, now that I think about it. I expect +to be a highly interested party to a wedding, shortly to take place. +Her name is Alice Partington, and, since Charley has promised to be +best man, he will have to come down to Oakland instead.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES OF THE FISH PATROL ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named totfp10h.htm or totfp10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, totfp11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, totfp10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + + PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION + 809 North 1500 West + Salt Lake City, UT 84116 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/old/totfp10h.zip b/old/totfp10h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..40b5637 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/totfp10h.zip |
