CHAPTER V.
A NIGHT OF MYSTERY.
Soon after the sloop beat up into the shelter of the point, the windhaving by this time increased, to what appeared to the boys, to be amild hurricane. The sky, too, was overcast, and big black clouds wererolling in, shrouding the dark trees and heights ashore in gloom, andturning the snow-covered peaks beyond to a dull gray. It began to feelchilly, too.
"We'll have to run up here and take the trail to the ranch," said Mr.Chillingworth, after a while.
"I thought it was quite close in here," rejoined Mr. Dacre.
"Oh, no. It's a biggish beat along the coast," replied his friend, "butit's blowing too hard now to risk beating up the shore. We'll run inunder shelter of the point there, and then we can cut across through thewoods and reach the place by trail."
"But not to-night," observed Mr. Dacre, pulling out his watch. "It'safter four now."
"We'll start out to-morrow morning if the wind hasn't gone down," saidMr. Chillingworth. "Fu can bring the sloop round when the windmoderates."
It was not long after this that, as they ran quite close to the shore,where the rocks sloped steeply down, that Mr. Chillingworth ordered theChinaman to take in sail. Aided by the boys, this was soon accomplished.To the accompaniment of rattling blocks, the sails were lowered, andpresently the anchor splashed overboard. The sloop then lay motionless,about thirty or forty feet off shore.
Supper was cooked and eaten in the tiny cabin, which boasted a stove. Asthe air had grown quite chilly, too, and the boys were wet with spray,they were all glad to warm and dry themselves in the heat. After themeal the men drew out their pipes, while Fu produced a queer-lookingarrangement for smoking. Its bowl was not much bigger than a thimble andmade of stone. The stem was a long, slender bit of bamboo.
"Opium?" whispered Tom to Mr. Chillingworth, as the Mongolian steppedout of the cabin to give a look to the anchor.
The rancher laughed.
"No, indeed. I would have no such stuff around me. I broke Fu of smokingopium long ago. But he still clings to his old pipe."
The after-supper talk was mainly about ranching and prospects inWashington. Mr. Dacre appeared to be much interested in the timberaspects of the country.
"There are millions of feet of good timber around here," said Mr.Chillingworth. "It can be bought cheap, too, right now. You see, thereis no railroad here yet, and no means of getting the timber out. Itwouldn't pay to cut it. But in a few years----"
He spread his hands. Evidently he deemed the prospects to be very good.Mr. Dacre nodded thoughtfully. Then the two men produced old envelopesand stubs of pencils and fell to figuring. This didn't interest the boysmuch.
"Let's slip outside and see what's doing," suggested Tom to Jack, aftera while.
The younger lad agreed willingly. In a few minutes they were on deck.Overhead the wind roared and shouted, but on deck, sheltered as it wasby the wooded, rocky point, things were comparatively quiet. Ashore theycould hear the wind humming and booming in the trees like the notes of amighty pipe organ. Even where they stood the balsam-scented breath ofthe forest was borne to them. They inhaled it delightedly.
"Not unlike Maine," decided Tom.
All at once, as they stood there enjoying the fresh air after the stuffycabin, Jack gripped Tom's arm tightly.
"Hark!" he whispered.
Above the hurly-burly of the wind and the clamor of the waters as theydashed against the shore, they could hear a voice upraised in what was,apparently, a tone of command. Then came a loud sound of metal rattling.The sound was unmistakable to any one who had any knowledge ofseafaring.
"Some vessel's dropped her anchor not far from us," decided Tom.
"Right," assented Jack, "and strain your eyes a bit and you'll see thatshe's a schooner."
Peering into the darkness it was possible to make out, after a good dealof difficulty, the black outlines of two masts. They were barelyperceptible, though, and if the boys had not heard the rattle of theanchor chain and thus known in which direction to look, they would nothave made them out at all.
"Jack!" exclaimed Tom, as a sudden thought shot into his head, "thatmust be Bully Banjo's schooner."
"You think so?"
"Well, what other vessel would put in here? It's true that we had toseek shelter, but a wind that would sink us wouldn't bother a largevessel. This is a lonely place, and just the sort of harbor Simon Lakewould seek."
"But we are in here; surely he wouldn't risk the chance of actualdiscovery?"
"But he doesn't know we're here. The sloop is painted black. It isunlikely that he sighted us beating in for shore this afternoon. We'dbetter tell the others."
"That's right," agreed Jack, starting for the cabin door. But Tom laid ahand on his shoulder.
"Don't open it," he said. "They'd see the light."
"Then how are we to tell them of what we have seen?"
"Tap on the cabin roof and then speak down the ventilator."
"Good idea. We'll do it."
"Mr. Chillingworth," whispered Tom, after his signal had been answered,and he had hastily warned the occupants of the cabin not to open thedoor, "there's a big schooner come to anchor not far away. We thoughtyou ought to know about it."
The boys could hear an amazed exclamation come up the ventilator. Thenext instant the light was extinguished, and presently the cabin doorwas swiftly opened. Mr. Dacre, his friend, and Fu were soon standing bythe boys on the deck, hearing their story. It was perfectly safe to talkin natural tones as the wind was blowing on shore, and it was doubtfulif even had they shouted they could have been heard on the schooner.
On board the larger vessel, however, the case was different. The groupon the yawl could now hear voices coming down the wind. Lights, too,began to bob about on the schooner's decks. Evidently something wasgoing forward.
"Our best plan is to listen and see what we can find out," advised Mr.Chillingworth, after they had discussed the strange arrival of theschooner.
"Looks as if they had come in here for some definite purpose," said Mr.Dacre.
"That's right," was the rejoinder, "and I can guess just what thatpurpose is. Lake's schooner has not been round here for some time tillthe other day. I believe that she has just arrived from the island inthe Pacific, where they say he picks up his Chinamen. They may be goingto land a bunch to-night."
"You think so?" asked Jack, his pulses beginning to beat.
"I don't see what else they would have sought out this lonely spot for,"was the rejoinder. "Listen!"
A squeaking sound "cheep-cheep" came over the water from the schooner.
"They are getting ready to lower a boat," cried Mr. Chillingworth. "Iwas right."
"And they are going to turn a lot of Chinamen loose ashore?" gasped Tom.
"Well, they won't turn them loose exactly," rejoined Mr. Chillingworth,and if it had not been dark Tom would have noticed that he smiled."Their method, so rumor has it, is to borrow some rancher's team andwagon and drive the yellow men through the woods to a mining district tothe north. Things are run pretty laxly there, and nobody asks questionsso long as they get Chinese labor cheap."
"But doesn't every Chinaman who comes into the country have to have acertificate bearing his picture?" asked Tom. "Seems to me I've readthat."
"Perfectly true," replied Mr. Chillingworth, "but it's easy enough formen of Lake's stripe to fake such certificates. After the men haveworked at the mines a while, they leave there and mingle with theircountrymen in the Chinatowns of any large Eastern or Western city. Ifany one asks questions, all they have to do is to show theircertificates. As for the pictures, I guess one does for all. EveryChinaman looks pretty much alike."
"That's a fact," agreed Mr. Dacre, "but all this must take a lot ofmoney to engineer. Who provides the funds?"
"Ah, that's a mystery. I've heard that a big syndicate is in it. It mustpay tremendously. You see, the Chinamen will pay all the way from twohund
red to a thousand dollars to be landed safely in the country. Lake,if he manages things right, can bring in as many as two hundred at atime. You see for yourself what that means--sixty thousand dollars atone fell swoop."
"Phew!" whistled Mr. Dacre, "no wonder desperate men will take desperatechances for such rewards. But you mentioned an island from which Lakebrings the men. Where is it?"
"That's pure speculation," rejoined Mr. Chillingworth. "The only reasonfor presuming that there is an island on which the Chinamen live tillthey can be run into the country is this: It is not probable that aschooner like Lake's can run over to China. Her trips, in fact, rarelyoccupy more than a month or so. But as for the location of the island, Iam as much in the dark as you are."
"Hark!" cried Tom suddenly. "Isn't that the sound of oars?"
"It is," agreed Mr. Dacre, after listening a minute. "They've got alantern in the boat, too. See, it is coming this way."
Sure enough, they could now perceive a light coming over the water,evidently borne in the boat the splash of whose oars they had heard. Onthrough the darkness came the moving light. Presently it stopped not farfrom the sloop. The occupants of the latter could see now that three menwere in the little craft. One, a tall man with a sailor cap on his head,another, a short, thickset fellow, and the third man was undoubtedly aChinaman. It was too dark to make out features, but the lantern lightshone sufficiently on the occupants of the small boat for their generaloutlines to be apparent.
The Oriental member of the party wore loose flowing garb. On his headwas a skull-cap surmounted by a button.
But after their first surprise our friends on the sloop turned theirattention from the craft and its occupants to the freight with which thelittle boat was loaded. So far as they could make out, these were bigcanvas sacks about five feet or more in length. There seemed to be morethan one of them. The boat rode very low in the water, apparently;whatever the freight was, it was fairly heavy.
As the oarsmen ceased their motions and the boat came to a stop, the menin her arose and the two white men laid hold of one of the bundles ateither end. They lifted it, and before the party on the sloop had anyidea of what they were going to do, they had swung their burden two orthree times and then cast it out into the water. It sank with a sullensplash. As it did so, the Chinaman raised his hands above his head andseemed to be uttering some prayer, or invoking some deity.
But a sudden noise in their midst caused the party on the sloop to turnsharply.
For some inexplicable reason the mask-faced Fu was groveling on thedeck. His lips were murmuring oriental words in a rapid sing-song. Inhis voice, and, above all, in his attitude, there was every indicationof abject terror.
Mr. Chillingworth stepped over to him and shook him not too roughly bythe shoulder.
"Fu, Fu, what's the trouble?" he exclaimed.
"Oh, Missa Chillingworth, me welly much flaid," stammered the Mongolian,still evidently in the bonds of fear.
"But why, Fu--why? Is it because of what they are doing in that boat?"
"Yes, Missa Chillingworth. Dey be deadee men in dose sacks. Dey dlopthem in the sea for gib dem belial."
"They are burying them you mean?"
"Yes, missa. De Chinaman he allee same plest. He say players for dem.Plenty bad for Chinaman to see."
"And for any one else, too, I should think," commented Mr.Chillingworth. "It is evident enough now what those fellows are up to.Some Chinamen have died during the voyage and they are burying them inthis cove. Packed together as they are, it's surprising more of them arenot killed."
A slight shudder passed through the boys as they heard. There wassomething uncanny, something awe-inspiring about this night burial inthe lonely cove by the light of the lantern.
Presently the last of the grewsome freight of the small boat wasconsigned to the waves, and she was pulled back to the schooner.
"We must set a good watch to-night," said Mr. Chillingworth. "It isimportant to know if those fellows land anybody."
The others agreed. Accordingly, it fell to Tom and Jack to watch thefirst part of the night, while the remaining hours were carefullywatched through by Mr. Dacre and Mr. Chillingworth. Fu was too badlyscared by the sight of the burial of his countrymen to be of much use.It appeared, according to his belief, that if a Chinaman gazed onanother's burial without announcing himself, he would be haunted foreverby the ghosts of the buried ones.
The watch was kept faithfully, and carefully, but nothing occurredapparently to mar the silence of the dark hours. Yet, when the firststreaks of gray began to show above the pine-clad shoulders of the coasthills, the dim dawn showed them that no schooner was there.
The Bungalow Boys in the Great Northwest Page 5