PUGET SOUND SMUGGLERS
The great landlocked body of salt water known as Puget Sound,
penetrating for nearly one hundred miles the northwestern corner of
Washington, the Northwest State, is justly termed a smuggler's paradise.
It pierces the land in every direction with a perfect net-work of
inlets, channels, and bays lined with endless miles of forest, frowning
cliffs, and snuggly hidden harbors. The upper end of the Sound, where
its width entitles it to be called a gulf, is filled with an archipelago
of rugged islands of all sizes and shapes, thinly settled, and offering
innumerable secure hiding-places for small boats. Here and there along
the shores of the Sound are Indian reservations uncleared and unoccupied
save by dwindling remnants of the once populous coast tribes. These
Indians, though retaining their tribal names among themselves, are all
known to the whites under the one designation of "Siwash," a corruption
of the French _sauvage_.
On the eastern side of the Sound are the important American cities of
Seattle and Tacoma; while at its extreme southern end stands Olympia,
Washington's capital. On its western side, and just north of the Strait
of Juan de Fuca, that connects the Sound with the ocean, is located the
Canadian city of Victoria, from which all the smuggling operations of
these waters are conducted.
From Victoria to the American island of San Juan on the east, the
largest of the archipelago already mentioned, the distance is only
twelve miles, while it is but twenty miles across the Strait of Fuca to
the American mainland on the south. These two points being so near at
hand, it is easy enough to run a boat-load of opium or Chinamen over to
either of them in a night. For such a passage each Chinaman is compelled
to pay from fifteen to twenty dollars, while opium yields a profit of
four or five dollars a pound. Smuggling from Victoria is thus such a
lucrative business that many men of easy conscience are engaged in it.
Both the island route and that by way of the strait present the serious
drawbacks of having their landing-places so remote from railroads and
cities that, though the frontier has been passed, there is still a
dangerous stretch of territory to be crossed before either of these can
be reached. In view of this fact, it occurred to one of the more
enterprising among the Victoria smugglers to undertake a greater risk
for the sake of greater profits, and run a boat nearly one hundred miles
up the Sound to some point in near vicinity to one of its large cities.
He had just the craft for the purpose, and finally secured a captain
who, having recently lost a schooner through seizure by the American
authorities for unlawful sealing in Bering Sea, was reckless and
desperate enough for the new venture. As this man undertook the run for
a share of the profits, he was inclined to reduce all expenses to their
very lowest limits, and had already made a number of highly successful
trips. Although the fare to each Chinaman by this new line was
twenty-five dollars, it offered such superior advantages as to be
liberally patronized, and the boat was always crowded.
In the meantime the American authorities had discovered that much
illegal opium and many illegal Chinamen were entering their country
through a new channel that seemed to lead to the vicinity of Tacoma. The
recently appointed commander of a United States revenue-cutter
determined to break up this route, and capture, if possible, these
boldest of all the Sound smugglers. For some weeks he watched in vain,
overhauled and examined a number of innocent vessels, and with each
failure became the more anxious to succeed. At length he sent his third
lieutenant to Victoria, of course out of uniform, to gain what
information he could concerning any vessel that seemed likely to be
engaged in smuggling.
This officer, after spending several days in the city without learning
anything definite, was beginning to feel discouraged, when one
afternoon, as he was strolling near the docks, he noticed two lads
walking ahead of him who looked something like sailors. One of them had
evidently just purchased a new outfit of clothing, and carried a canvas
bag on which his name was painted in black letters. Making a mental note
of this name, the officer followed the lads, out of curiosity to see
what kind of a craft they would board.
When he saw the _Fancy_ he said to himself: "Tough-looking old packet. I
wonder if that young chap with the bag can be one of her crew?"
Without approaching the sloop so closely as to attract attention, he
lingered in her vicinity until Alaric went up-town to procure supplies,
when the officer still kept him in sight. He even entered the store in
which the lad was dealing, and here his curiosity was stimulated by the
young sailor's varied and costly order.
"That sloop must make an extraordinary amount of money somehow," he
reflected.
So interested had he now become that he even followed Alaric while the
lad made his subsequent purchases. Finally he found himself again near
the sloop just as the lad who had excited his curiosity was ordered to
the wharf to air himself after his unfortunate experience with the
bottle of cologne. At length the officer addressed him, and by dint of
persistent questions became confirmed in his suspicions that the dingy
old sloop cruised to the Sound with Chinamen and opium.
Having gained the information he wanted thus easily and unexpectedly,
the officer returned to his hotel for supper and to write a despatch
that should go by that night's boat. After delivering this on board the
steamer, he determined to take one more look at the suspected sloop;
and, strolling leisurely in that direction, reached the wharf just in
time to see her glide out from the slip and head for the open sea.
Here was an emergency that called for prompt action; and, running back
to the hotel, the young man paid his bill, secured his bag, and gained
the steamer just as that fine American-built vessel was about to take
her departure for ports of the upper Sound. Shortly afterwards, a little
beyond the harbor mouth, the big, brilliantly lighted steamer swept past
a small dimly outlined craft, on whose deck somebody was waving a
lantern so that she might not be run down.
Of course it has been understood long ere this that the sloop _Fancy_
was a smuggler. She was not only that, but was also the boldest, most
successful, and most troublesome smuggler on Puget Sound. The one person
at all acquainted with the shabby old craft and as yet unaware of her
true character was Alaric Todd. His slight knowledge of smugglers
having been gained through books, he thought of them as being only a
sort of half pirates, either Spanish or French, who flourished during
the last century. Thus, although he did not approve of either the
sloop's passengers or cargo, it did not occur to him that they were
being carried in defiance of law until about the time that the steamer's
lights were disappearing in the distance.
The boy's hands were still smarting from an unaccustomed hauling on
ropes that had resulted in hoisting the big main-sail, and now he lay on
deck well forward, where he had been told to keep a sharp lookout and
report instantly any vessel coming within his range of vision. Before a
fresh beam wind the _Fancy_ was slipping rapidly through the water, with
Captain Duff steering, Bonny doing odd jobs about deck, and the
passengers confining themselves closely to the hold. After the young
mate had waved his signal lantern to the steamer, he extinguished both
it and the side lights that had been burning until now, leaving the
binnacle lamp carefully shaded as the only light on board. With nothing
more to do at present, he threw himself down beside Alaric, and the boys
began a low-voiced conversation.
"What made you put out those lights?" asked the latter. "I thought all
ships carried lights at night."
"We don't," laughed Bonny. "They'd give us away to the cutters, and we'd
be picked up in less'n no time. I'm mighty glad that steamer isn't a
revenue-boat."
"Why?"
"Because she's so fast. There's only one craft on the Sound can beat
her, and that's the _Flyer_, running between Tacoma and Seattle. This
_City of Kingston_ is a good one, though. She used to be a crack Hudson
River boat, and came out here around the Horn; or, rather, not exactly
that, but through the Strait of Magellan. That's a tough place, I can
tell you."
"I suppose it is," replied Alaric. "But, Bonny, tell me something more
about those cutters. Why should they want to catch us?"
"For running 'chinks' and 'dope.'"
"What harm is there in that? Is it against the law?"
"I should rather say it was. There's a duty of ten dollars a pound on
one, and the others aren't allowed in at any price."
"Then I don't see how we are any different from regular smugglers."
"That's what some folks call us," replied Bonny, with a grin. "They are
mostly on the other side, though. In Victoria they call us
free-traders."
"It doesn't make any difference what anybody calls us," retorted Alaric,
vehemently, "so long as we ourselves know what we are. It was a mean
thing, Bonny Brooks, that you didn't tell me this before we started."
"Look here, Rick Dale! do you pretend you didn't know after seeing the
'chinks' and the 'dope' and all that was going on? Oh, come, that's too
thin!"
"I don't care whether it's thin or thick," rejoined Alaric, stoutly. "I
didn't know that I was shipping to become a pirate, or you may be very
certain I'd have sat on that log till I starved before going one step
with you."
"What do you mean by calling me a pirate?" demanded Bonny, indignantly.
"I'm no more a pirate than you are, for all your fine airs."
In his excitement Bonny had so raised his voice that it reached the ears
of Captain Duff, who growled out, fiercely: "Stow yer jaw, ye young
swabs, and keep a sharp lookout for'ard--d'ye hear?"
"Aye, aye, sir," responded the young mate, rising as though to end the
unpleasant conversation, and peering keenly into the gloom.
But Alaric was not inclined to let the subject drop; and, with an idea
of continuing their talk in so low a tone that it could not possibly
reach the captain's ears, he too started to rise.
At that moment the sloop gave a quick lurch that caused him to plunge
awkwardly forward. He was only saved from going overboard by striking
squarely against Bonny, who was balancing himself easily in the very
eyes of the vessel, with one foot on the rail. The force of the blow was
too great for him to withstand. With a gasping cry he pitched headlong
over the bows and disappeared from his comrade's horrified gaze.