The Boy With the U. S. Fisheries Part 13

He'll know what to do."

"What are you after, Hank?" asked the boy, tightening his belt.

"Whatever comes along," was the terse reply.

Colin pitched off his heavy coat and started. It was over a half-mile run, but the boy was in good condition and the path was smooth, so that two minutes saw him at the agent's bedroom door.

"Eh? What's that? j.a.panese raiders! You've been dreaming, boy. Go back to bed."

"Do I look as if I'd been dreaming?" Colin said indignantly. "How do you suppose I could run myself out of breath in a dream? Hank was with me.

He heard them, too, and sent me back to tell you."

But the agent was already up and busy.

"Wake the village!" he said shortly.

Without waiting to find out how this should be done, Colin started off at a run, and picking up a killing club that lay handy, he sped down the village street, hitting a resounding 'whack' on every door as he pa.s.sed.

As he came back, up the other side of the street, the natives were streaming out of their houses and Colin told them all to go to the agent, whereupon those who understood English started immediately, the rest following. The agent was ready and had all his plans made, some of the men were sent to the boats, and arms for others were laid out.

"They were right on Gorbatch rookery?" the agent asked.

"Yes, sir," Colin replied, "at the Reef Point end."

The party was swinging along at a fast half-run over the sands that lay between the edge of the village and the beginning of the rookery, and with the rising of the moon the fog seemed to thin.

"I had rather we were a little nearer before it gets too light," the agent said, "but we'd better make the best use we can of our time."

On reaching the wall, the agent vaulted lightly over it, the rest following suit, and to Colin's surprise the official led the way behind the rookery, threading in and out between idle bulls, who made a display of great ferocity but never actually attacked. The agent paid not the slightest heed to any of them, merely keeping out of reach of their teeth.

As they turned a corner, a cloud which had partly obscured the moon pa.s.sed and showed them an unexpected sight. Magnified into gigantic forms by the fog were the figures of six men, apparently all armed, facing Hank, the old whaler, who, with both revolvers, was keeping them at bay. He was close to the sh.o.r.e, standing behind two old, wicked-looking beachmasters, who, in the unnatural light, appeared to be twice their natural size. Hank let out a hail as soon as he saw the government party coming to his a.s.sistance, but he did not relax his vigilance.

"I've got this bunch covered," he said, "an' they can't get to their boat. One load did get off."

Hearing his shout the invaders turned quickly, but found themselves overpowered, for a dozen rifles were leveled at them. They knew, too, that natives who are trained to shoot fur seal in the water--as most of those men had done before pelagic sealing was stopped--could be counted on as good shots.

The agent, who spoke sufficient j.a.panese for simple needs, demanded the surrender of the raiders and asked which was the officer of the party.

This question they refused to understand.

"I suppose he went off in the other boat," hazarded the agent. "That's a pity. He stands a good chance of being shot!"

Colin looked up inquiringly.

"How do you expect to catch him now?" he asked.

"The fog is clearing away. Obviously!" the agent answered.

"Quite a lot," the boy admitted.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A TYPICAL SEAL ROOKERY, HALF ABANDONED.

Showing the ma.s.sing of the harems, the watchful figures of the beach-masters, and the idle bulls in the background.

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries._]

"Row-boat hasn't much chance against a launch, has it?"

"Oh, I see now," Colin said understandingly; "you covered the water with another party."

"In a very swift gasoline launch we have. While you were waking the village, I got a wireless to a revenue cutter. I caught her at less than fifteen miles away, and she's headed here now."

He turned to the j.a.panese.

"What is your s.h.i.+p? Schooner or steamer?" he asked.

"Schooner," was the reply.

The agent rubbed his hands delightedly.

"It's a clean haul," he said. "Thanks to you, Hank. Princ.i.p.ally. To the boy, too! We've caught six men red-handed right on the rookery, with dead seals, most of them females. The launch ought to intercept the boat. There's not wind enough for a schooner to get far away by the time the revenue cutter arrives. Besides, the schooner will be short-handed since we have six of the crew here."

A sudden puff of wind lifted the fog still further and revealed the schooner herself, lying not far from sh.o.r.e. A row-boat was about one hundred and fifty feet from the vessel and the station launch was two hundred feet away, approaching from a different angle, but outspeeding the row-boat.

"A race!" cried Colin.

It was a closer race than at first appeared. Under the strange light of the full moon s.h.i.+ning grayly through the silvering mist upon the seals in their countless thousands, the scene seemed most unreal. Before him appeared the princ.i.p.als in this dramatic encounter, revolvers and rifles in the hands of all parties, the j.a.ps being still covered; while beyond, at sea, the two boats cleaving the water, their objective point the shadowy schooner, looking like a phantom s.h.i.+p, made a picture of weird excitement in an unearthly setting. The seconds seemed like hours. The row-boat was nearer the schooner and was traveling fast, but the launch was speeding even more rapidly, throwing up a high wave at the bow. It looked as though both boats would reach the schooner's side at the same instant.

"She'll do it! She'll do it!" the boy exclaimed. "If only an oar would smas.h.!.+"

The j.a.panese, though not saying a word, were bending forward eagerly, watching the race with every nerve on the strain.

Colin fairly danced with excitement, nearly bringing down on himself the wrath of a neighboring sea-catch, who was roaring angrily at this intrusion.

"If she only had another couple of horsepower----" he cried.

The j.a.panese smiled.

A port in the rail of the schooner opened and the muzzle of a small swivel-gun projected, aimed full at the launch. Colin caught his breath.

A puff of smoke followed, and a couple of seconds later the sharp crack of a small gun. A crash and a few sharp explosions were heard from the launch, but, so far as could be seen from the sh.o.r.e, no one was injured.

The engine gave a 'chug-chug' or two--then stopped dead.

Colin dropped his arms limply by his side in despair.

The leader of the j.a.panese took a quick step forward and whispered a word or two to the nearest man, who pa.s.sed it down the line. The agent strained his ears to hear what was said, but could not distinguish the words.

"What's that you were saying?" he asked in j.a.panese.

The man replied calmly, and in English.