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 Partingtonwas the best. He was neither dishonest nor cowardly; and while hedemanded strict obedience when we were under his orders, at thesame time our relations were those of easy comradeship, and hepermitted us a freedom to which we were ordinarily unaccustomed, asthe present story will show.Neil's family lived in Oakland, which is on the Lower Bay, not morethan six miles across the water from San Francisco. One day, whilescouting among the Chinese shrimp-catchers of Point Pedro, hereceived word that his wife was very ill; and within the hour theReindeer was bowling along for Oakland, with a stiff northwestbreeze astern. We ran up the Oakland Estuary and came to anchor,and in the days that followed, while Neil was ashore, we tightenedup 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 wasdangerously ill, and the outlook was a week's lie-over, awaitingthe crisis. Charley and I roamed the docks, wondering what weshould do, and so came upon the oyster fleet lying at the OaklandCity Wharf. In the main they were trim, natty boats, made forspeed and bad weather, and we sat down on the stringer-piece of thedock to study them."A good catch, I guess," Charley said, pointing to the heaps ofoysters, assorted in three sizes, which lay upon their decks.Pedlers were backing their wagons to the edge of the wharf, andfrom the bargaining and chaffering that went on, I managed to learnthe selling price of the oysters."That boat must have at least two hundred dollars' worth aboard," Icalculated. "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-shoulderedfellow with remarkably long and gorilla-like arms, while the otherwas tall and well proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat ofstraight black hair. So unusual and striking was this combinationof hair and eyes that Charley and I remained somewhat longer thanwe intended.And it was well that we did. A stout, elderly man, with the dressand carriage of a successful merchant, came up and stood beside us,looking down upon the deck of the Ghost. He appeared angry, andthe longer he looked the angrier he grew."Those are my oysters," he said at last. "I know they are myoysters. 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 thesame touch of insolence. "Wot 'r you growling about now?""Those are my oysters - that's what I said. You've stolen themfrom 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 oysterswherever you find 'em, an' they're pretty much alike all the Bayover, and the world over, too, for that matter. We're not wantin'to quarrel with you, Mr. Taft, but we jes' wish you wouldn'tinsinuate 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 wasknown as "The Porpoise" because of his wonderful swimmingabilities.Mr. Taft shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Of course he could notprove 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!" hecried. "I'll give fifty dollars a head for your arrest andconviction, all of you!"A roar of laughter went up from the different boats, for the restof 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 outof the corner of his eye, Charley noted the way he went. Severalminutes later, when he had disappeared around a corner, Charleyrose lazily to his feet. I followed him, and we sauntered off inthe opposite direction to that taken by Mr. Taft."Come on! Lively!" Charley whispered, when we passed from the viewof the oyster fleet.Our course was changed at once, and we dodged around corners andraced up and down side-streets till Mr. Taft's generous form loomedup 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 bedelayed here for a week, and you and I might as well be doingsomething in the meantime. What do you say?""Of course, of course," Mr. Taft said, when Charley had introducedhimself and explained his errand. "Those thieves are robbing me ofthousands of dollars every year, and I shall be glad to break themup at any price, - yes, sir, at any price. As I said, I'll givefifty dollars a head, and call it cheap at that. They've robbed mybeds, torn down my signs, terrorized my watchmen, and last yearkilled one of them. Couldn't prove it. All done in the blacknessof night. All I had was a dead watchman and no evidence. Thedetectives could do nothing. Nobody has been able to do anythingwith 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 theassistance you offer. And I shall be glad, most glad, sir, to co-operate with you in every way. My watchmen and boats are at yourdisposal. 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 arewithin reason. The situation is growing desperate, and somethingmust be done to determine whether I or that band of ruffians ownthose oyster beds.""Now we'll see Neil," Charley said, when he had seen Mr. Taft uponhis train to San Francisco.Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to ouradventure, but he proved to be of the greatest assistance. Charleyand I knew nothing of the oyster industry, while his head was anencyclopaedia of facts concerning it. Also, within an hour or so,he was able to bring to us a Greek boy of seventeen or eighteen whoknew thoroughly well the ins and outs of oyster piracy.At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol werefree lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a patrolmanproper, received a regular salary, Charley and I, being merelydeputies, received only what we earned - that is to say, a certainpercentage of the fines imposed on convicted violators of the fishlaws. Also, any rewards that chanced our way were ours. Weoffered to share with Partington whatever we should get from Mr.Taft, but the patrolman would not hear of it. He was only toohappy, he said, to do a good turn for us, who had done so many forhim.We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following line ofaction. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, but as theReindeer was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, the Greek boy,whose name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some innocent-lookingcraft down to Asparagus Island and join the oyster pirates' fleet.Here, according to Nicholas's description of the beds and themanner of raiding, it was possible for us to catch the pirates inthe act of stealing oysters, and at the same time to get them inour power. Charley was to be on the shore, with Mr. Taft'swatchmen and a posse of constables, to help us at the right time."I know just the boat," Neil said, at the conclusion of thediscussion, "a crazy old sloop that's lying over at Tiburon. Youand Nicholas can go over by the ferry, charter it for a song, andsail 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; andbetween laughs, while getting up sail, we agreed that she was evencrazier and older than she had been described. She was a big,flat-bottomed, square-sterned craft, sloop-rigged, with a sprungmast, slack rigging, dilapidated sails, and rotten running-gear,clumsy to handle and uncertain in bringing about, and she smelledvilely of coal tar, with which strange stuff she had been smearedfrom stem to stern and from cabin-roof to centreboard. And to capit all, Coal Tar Maggie was printed in great white letters thewhole length of either side.It was an uneventful though laughable run from Tiburon to AsparagusIsland, where we arrived in the afternoon of the following day.The oyster pirates, a fleet of a dozen sloops, were lying at anchoron what was known as the "Deserted Beds." The Coal Tar Maggie camesloshing into their midst with a light breeze astern, and theycrowded on deck to see us. Nicholas and I had caught the spirit ofthe 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 theCentipede from the deck of the Ghost."Hey! Ahoy there, clipper ship!" another wag shouted. "Wot's yerport?"We took no notice of the joking, but acted, after the manner ofgreenhorns, as though the Coal Tar Maggie required our undividedattention. I rounded her well to windward of the Ghost, andNicholas ran for'ard to drop the anchor. To all appearances it wasa bungle, the way the chain tangled and kept the anchor fromreaching the bottom. And to all appearances Nicholas and I wereterribly excited as we strove to clear it. At any rate, we quitedeceived the pirates, who took huge delight in our predicament.But the chain remained tangled, and amid all kinds of mockingadvice we drifted down upon and fouled the Ghost, whose bowspritpoked square through our mainsail and ripped a hole in it as big asa barn door. The Centipede and the Porpoise doubled up on thecabin in paroxysms of laughter, and left us to get clear as best wecould. This, with much unseaman-like performance, we succeeded indoing, and likewise in clearing the anchor-chain, of which we letout about three hundred feet. With only ten feet of water underus, this would permit the Coal Tar Maggie to swing in a circle sixhundred feet in diameter, in which circle she would be able to foulat least half the fleet.The oyster pirates lay snugly together at short hawsers, theweather being fine, and they protested loudly at our ignorance inputting out such an unwarranted length of anchor-chain. And notonly did they protest, for they made us heave it in again, all butthirty feet.Having sufficiently impressed them with our general lubberliness,Nicholas and I went below to congratulate ourselves and to cooksupper. Hardly had we finished the meal and washed the dishes,when a skiff ground against the Coal Tar Maggie's side, and heavyfeet trampled on deck. Then the Centipede's brutal face appearedin the companionway, and he descended into the cabin, followed bythe Porpoise. Before they could seat themselves on a bunk, anotherskiff came alongside, and another, and another, till the wholefleet was represented by the gathering in the cabin."Where'd you swipe the old tub?" asked a squat and hairy man, withcruel eyes and Mexican features."Didn't swipe it," Nicholas answered, meeting them on their ownground and encouraging the idea that we had stolen the Coal TarMaggie. "And if we did, what of it?""Well, I don't admire your taste, that's all," sneered he of theMexican features. "I'd rot on the beach first before I'd take atub that couldn't get out of its own way.""How were we to know till we tried her?" Nicholas asked, soinnocently 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, aload 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 wecould see that they had not the slightest suspicion of our identityor purpose."Didn't I see you on the dock in Oakland the other day?" theCentipede asked suddenly of me."Yep," I answered boldly, taking the bull by the horns. "I waswatching you fellows and figuring out whether we'd go oystering ornot. It's a pretty good business, I calculate, and so we're goingin for it. That is," I hastened to add, "if you fellows don'tmind.""I'll tell you one thing, which ain't two things," he replied, "andthat is you'll have to hump yerself an' get a better boat. Wewon't stand to be disgraced by any such box as this. Understand?""Sure," I said. "Soon as we sell some oysters we'll outfit instyle.""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 voicebecame stern and menacing), "why, it'll be the sickest day of yerlife. Understand?""Sure," I said.After that and more warning and advice of similar nature, theconversation became general, and we learned that the beds were tobe raided that very night. As they got into their boats, after anhour's stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with theassurance 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, ofthe Sporting Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him isSkilling. They're both out now on five thousand dollars' bail."I had heard of the Sporting Life Gang before, a crowd of hoodlumsand criminals that terrorized the lower quarters of Oakland, andtwo-thirds of which were usually to be found in state's prison forcrimes 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 tilleleven o'clock had passed, when we heard the rattle of an oar in aboat from the direction of the Ghost. We hauled up our own skiff,tossed in a few sacks, and rowed over. There we found all theskiffs assembling, it being the intention to raid the beds in abody.To my surprise, I found barely a foot of water where we had droppedanchor 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 ouranchorage would be dry ground before slack water.Mr. Taft's beds were three miles away, and for a long time we rowedsilently in the wake of the other boats, once in a while groundingand our oar blades constantly striking bottom. At last we cameupon soft mud covered with not more than two inches of water - notenough to float the boats. But the pirates at once were over theside, and by pushing and pulling on the flat-bottomed skiffs, wemoved steadily along.The full moon was partly obscured by high-flying clouds, but thepirates went their way with the familiarity born of long practice.After half a mile of the mud, we came upon a deep channel, up whichwe rowed, with dead oyster shoals looming high and dry on eitherside. At last we reached the picking grounds. Two men, on one ofthe shoals, hailed us and warned us off. But the Centipede, thePorpoise, Barchi, and Skilling took the lead, and followed by therest of us, at least thirty men in half as many boats, rowed rightup to the watchmen."You'd better slide outa this here," Barchi said threateningly, "orwe'll fill you so full of holes you wouldn't float in molasses."The watchmen wisely retreated before so overwhelming a force, androwed their boat along the channel toward where the shore shouldbe. Besides, it was in the plan for them to retreat.We hauled the noses of the boats up on the shore side of a bigshoal, 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 notime sacks were filled and carried back to the boats, where freshones were obtained. Nicholas and I returned often and anxiously tothe boats with our little loads, but always found some one of thepirates coming or going."Never mind," he said; "no hurry. As they pick farther and fartheraway, it will take too long to carry to the boats. Then they'llstand the full sacks on end and pick them up when the tide comes inand the skiffs will float to them."Fully half an hour went by, and the tide had begun to flood, whenthis came to pass. Leaving the pirates at their work, we stoleback to the boats. One by one, and noiselessly, we shoved them offand made them fast in an awkward flotilla. Just as we were shovingoff the last skiff, our own, one of the men came upon us. It wasBarchi. His quick eye took in the situation at a glance, and hesprang for us; but we went clear with a mighty shove, and he wasleft floundering in the water over his head. As soon as he gotback to the shoal he raised his voice and gave the alarm.We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so manyboats in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a second, and athird; then a regular fusillade began. The bullets spat and spatall about us; but thick clouds had covered the moon, and in the dimdarkness it was no more than random firing. It was only by chancethat 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 theshoal 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 indanger. Not long afterward we answered a shoreward hail, and twoWhitehall boats, each pulled by three pairs of oars, darted up tous. Charley's welcome face bent over to us, and he gripped us bythe hands while he cried, "Oh, you joys! You joys! Both of you!"When the flotilla had been landed, Nicholas and I and a watchmanrowed out in one of the Whitehalls, with Charley in the stern-sheets. Two other Whitehalls followed us, and as the moon nowshone brightly, we easily made out the oyster pirates on theirlonely shoal. As we drew closer, they fired a rattling volley fromtheir revolvers, and we promptly retreated beyond range."Lot of time," Charley said. "The flood is setting in fast, and bythe time it's up to their necks there won't be any fight left inthem."So we lay on our oars and waited for the tide to do its work. Thiswas the predicament of the pirates: because of the big run-out,the tide was now rushing back like a mill-race, and it wasimpossible for the strongest swimmer in the world to make againstit the three miles to the sloops. Between the pirates and theshore were we, precluding escape in that direction. On the otherhand, the water was rising rapidly over the shoals, and it was onlya question of a few hours when it would be over their heads.It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight wewatched them through our night glasses and told Charley of thevoyage of the Coal Tar Maggie. One o'clock came, and two o'clock,and the pirates were clustering on the highest shoal, waist-deep inwater."Now this illustrates the value of imagination," Charley wassaying. "Taft has been trying for years to get them, but he wentat it with bull strength and failed. Now we used our heads . . ."Just then I heard a scarcely audible gurgle of water, and holdingup my hand for silence, I turned and pointed to a ripple slowlywidening out in a growing circle. It was not more than fifty feetfrom us. We kept perfectly quiet and waited. After a minute thewater broke six feet away, and a black head and white shouldershowed in the moonlight. With a snort of surprise and of suddenlyexpelled breath, the head and shoulder went down.We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the current. Fourpairs of eyes searched the surface of the water, but never anotherripple showed, and never another glimpse did we catch of the blackhead and white shoulder."It's the Porpoise," Nicholas said. "It would take broad daylightfor us to catch him."At a quarter to three the pirates gave their first sign ofweakening. We heard cries for help, in the unmistakable voice ofthe Centipede, and this time, on rowing closer, we were not firedupon. The Centipede was in a truly perilous plight. Only theheads and shoulders of his fellow-marauders showed above the wateras they braced themselves against the current, while his feet wereoff the bottom and they were supporting him."Now, lads," Charley said briskly, "we have got you, and you can'tget away. If you cut up rough, we'll have to leave you alone andthe water will finish you. But if you're good we'll take youaboard, one man at a time, and you'll all be saved. What do yousay?""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 camewillingly, though he objected when the constable put the handcuffson him. Barchi was next hauled in, quite meek and resigned fromhis soaking. When we had ten in, our boat we drew back, and thesecond Whitehall was loaded. The third Whitehall received nineprisoners only - a catch of twenty-nine in all."You didn't get the Porpoise," the Centipede said exultantly, asthough his escape materially diminished our success.Charley laughed. "But we saw him just the same, a-snorting forshore like a puffing pig."It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up thebeach to the oyster house. In answer to Charley's knock, the doorwas 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 hishand, was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and I looked atCharley. 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 atall? I saw the beach, so I left a couple of constables behind tokeep an eye on it. That's all."
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