A DEAL IN OPIUM
f course, the people which participated in things of this sort are dead now, and so is nearly every one which ever knew anything about the matter, but occasionally you will run across an old Hawaiian whose memory you can always refresh by showing him a bit of silver, and then you will hear tales of the days when smuggling opium into Honolulu was a common practise.
There are some who will tell you that the blocks on the sidewalk on the right hand side of Alakea street were taken from the holds of smugglers. Nothing so very astonishing, only, in the middle of these blocks the initiated found a can of opium. Parties would contract for a load of Chinese stone and the unsuspecting Customs man would pass the ship which brought it. But when the stones were safely carried away, this same Customs man would have been astonished, could he have seen a man remove a layer from a block and take out from the cavity a can. He would have been further astounded could he have seen what the can contained.
Ah Pung had contracted for such a load of stone and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the ship bearing it.
Smuggling opium was getting to be a risky proposition and in view of the alarming number of captures which the government had made and the large amount of fines which it had collected from those whom it captured, Ah Pung made a mental resolve, as he walked down to the Pilot House to ask if the Fanny had been sighted, that with the sale of this load, his part in this illegal business terminated.
The Fanny was making an unusually slow passage, and many were the conjectures placed upon her delay.
“Bet you she’s got a load of opium this trip,” said one old sea dog to a group of his companions.
“Your bet is safe,” was the reply from the youngest of the number, “she had a load of it last trip. My opinion on her delay is this: Her captain’s got the wind that somethin’ is blowing wrong and he’s not going to risk his cargo and his ship by coming in, unless the coast is clear.
“Old Captain Mitchell is too crafty a sea dog to be caught napping. He’s been engaged in this smuggling business for over twenty years. Used to smuggle wines from Portugal into Boston Harbor at one time, and then, when he found the job getting pretty hot, he took his ship when no body was looking, and went into smuggling opium. I was first mate under him two trips ago, and I know.
“I’ll bet you,” he said suddenly to the first speaker, “I’ll bet you that this old Chink has got the cargo on board the Fanny this time.”
The group fixed its eyes on Ah Pung who was nervously watching a customs officer who, from time to time, was scanning the horizon with his glass.
Hearing what the mate said, Ah Pung turned to them and said, “Yes, me got calgo on boad the Flanny. Too muchee building stone this trip. Got big contlact make floo’ for lice thleshing, up Waiau.”
A number of the sailors nodded as if they accepted the Chinaman’s story, but the mate smiled. “That’s all right, John; don’t need to worry about us, you pig-tailed heathen. I know very well what’s inside them stones, but if you can land them without that chap nabbing you, you’ll have my sincerest admiration. I tell you,” he said lowering his voice, “you’d better get some kind of a signal out to the Fanny telling her not to land those stones at the wharf.”
The Chinaman looked the mate over carefully and then, as if satisfied with his examination, he said, “My lice schooner captain he sick. You number one sailor; you take my boat to Waiau now.”
Roberts understood the ruse and got up smilingly from his box and went over to Ah Pung’s rice schooner. The sails were hoisted and the little schooner bounded out of the harbor. Instead of turning to his right, to where Waiau lay, Roberts steered the schooner in the direction of Diamond Head.
In response to the Chinaman’s inquiring look Roberts said, “That government schooner is out somewhere. We’ll have to find out where before we can do anything.”
The schooner was skimming along at a good clip when Ah Pung’s excited eyes saw another schooner bearing down upon them.
“No,” Roberts said after looking the new comer over, “that’s not the Fanny; that’s the customs’ schooner. Well, we’ll make for Waiau.”
Carefully swinging her around, he started back to town but was hailed with the cry, “Ship ahoy!”
“The Moi Wahine,” was the reply.
“Haul hard until we come up to you,” was the order.
Roberts had the one sailor on board haul down the sails and awaited the coming of the customs boat.
“What are you doing?” he was asked.
“Merely trying this boat.”
“What for?”
“Want to buy her.”
“What made you turn around when you saw us?”
“Didn’t see you until after I had started to come back.”
The officer seemed appeased and he ordered his own sail up. Roberts followed suit and turning to the captain he said, “I’ll race you back to the harbor for a drink all around.”
“That’s to find out who has the faster boat,” he muttered to himself.
“All right, let her go,” he shouted and both boats fairly flew, cutting the water with clean, sharp strokes as they sped along.
Roberts put on all the sail he had; the customs man did the same and gained rapidly.
“Whew,” muttered Roberts, “not much of a chance for us, Ah Pung, if we were in a pinch now. But wait a moment, I’ll fix him.” He veered slightly to the left and took advantage of a sudden puff of wind. That was all the Moi Wahine needed; her masts fairly groaned under the spread of canvas and soon the customs man was out of sight.
“I understand her now,” Roberts said, “I’ll guarantee to beat anything in these waters. But let’s go to Waiau. I want to see what kind of a harbor they have there.”
“Nothing decent,” was his verdict. “Catch us here easy. I have it,” he said finally, “there’s Ford’s Island off there,” jerking his thumb in the direction of the island, “that’ll help us alright. Now let’s go back to the harbor and get those drinks the captain owes us.”
The captain was found pouring a drink from a demijohn in his office. “It’s on me,” he called as Roberts passed by. He entered and took the mug which the captain filled for him.
“By the way,” he asked, “what were you doing out by Diamond Head this afternoon?”
“Looking for the Fanny. I can’t imagine what’s become of the boat.”
“What’s so wonderful on the Fanny that makes you so anxious to meet her?”
“Opium.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Do? Nothing now. Wait until she gets into the harbor and then nab the man that her cargo is assigned to.”
“But supposing he manages to land the cargo before the boat reaches the harbor, then what?”
“Take a mighty smart man to skin me, old fellow. Fill up your mug, I see it’s empty.”
“Here’s to the Fanny; may she make port safely.”
The captain looked at Roberts in mild surprise but he drank the toast and added, “May she make port safely and give her cargo up to the government.”
Roberts left the room and found Ah Pung waiting for him.
“You come my house eat,” he said.
The invitation was accepted and Roberts was soon at Ah Pung’s home. It was a pretentious dwelling, for Ah Pung had money. He had married a Hawaiian woman who possessed a large quantity of land. A part of this her husband had sold to enable him to buy opium, and after the second trip, he was counted a rich man.
Ah Pung had a daughter. Though dark-skinned, Kealoha was fair to behold. She had inherited her mother’s Hawaiian beauty, and her only Chinese characteristic shown from her eyes.
Sam Roberts was a roving sort of a fellow. Many were the girls who would have gladly married him “back East,” but he would have none of them. Tonight, as he sat on the floor, which formed Ah Pung’s dining table, by the side of pretty Kealoha, he thought he had never seen any Hawaiian or any other maiden look so lovely.
Around her head she had a lei of red carnations, and another of ilima hung around her neck. Lost in the contemplation of so lovely a vision, Roberts failed to do justice to the excellent meal which Ah Pung had provided.
When dinner was over, Ah Pung led his guest out to the lanai and together they planned their campaign.
“You help me, I help you,” said Ah Pung.
“Yes, I help you, but what do I get out of this business?”
Ah Pung had noticed the effect which Kealoha had produced upon Roberts and with a crafty smile he answered, “You help me, make me win, I give you Kealoha.”
“But suppose she won’t have me?”
“Kealoha have anybody I tell her have,” was the Chinaman’s response.
“The stake is well worth the risk,” Roberts muttered. “I make the old Chink win.”
Kealoha came out with her guitar and in the short twilight, she sang several plaintive Hawaiian melodies. Then she suddenly arose and went into the house.
Roberts got up from his chair and said, “Let’s go out to Diamond Head. I have an idea that the Fanny is somewhere around there.”
They went to the wharf and rousing the sailor aboard the Moi Wahine, the sails were raised and in the calm moonlight they sped away to Diamond Head. When they were in full sight of the light house, Roberts saw a green light flash out over the water from a large black mass which was blacker than the darkness around it. The green light was followed by two red ones, and then by a white one. Roberts returned the signal and sailed for the spot.
“Ship ahoy!” he called softly.
“The Fanny” was the response. “Who are you?”
“The Moi Wahine. Don’t attempt to land at Honolulu. Customs’ men are on to you. They were looking for you yesterday.”
The Fanny’s captain laughed. “What would you advise, Roberts?”
“Go to Pearl Harbor instead. Nobody has seen you. The old fellow up there is asleep and we can get up to Pearl Harbor with this wind before daybreak. Once there, you can remain in hiding ’til night. Then I’ll come and transfer your cargo into the Moi Wahine.”
Capt. Mitchell favored the plan and with the Moi Wahine in the lead, the two schooners sailed to Pearl Harbor, where the Fanny was anchored. The Moi Wahine was sailed back to town and moored at her usual place.
“Nobody will be the wiser, old chap,” he said to Ah Pung. “We’ll stay at home today and tonight the opium will be brought back. Let the stones stay in the hold until the next night, then we’ll bring them to your house, a few at a time. Then, Ah Pung, I’ll claim my reward.”
Ah Pung nodded and invited Sam in to spend the day at his house.
After breakfast he followed Kealoha into the yard, and watched her make a lei.
They were silent for a while when Kealoha asked, “You’ll help my father land his opium?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“How much money will you get for the job?”
“No money at all; my dear, I get you.”
“You get me?”
“Yes, your father has promised to let me marry you if I succeed in landing the opium so that the customs men won’t know.”
“Can you do it?”
“Dead easy.”
“But if I don’t want to marry you?”
“But you will,” he said smilingly.
“But I won’t,” she returned firmly. “Do you think I sell myself or let my father sell me for a load of opium. No, sir! What’s more, I am to marry Kea.”
“Don’t you love your father?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Then do you want to see him go to jail?”
“No.”
“Well, if I say the word, I’ll get him into jail.”
Kealoha burst into tears. “You white men are so cruel,” she sobbed out in Hawaiian. “Not content with defrauding us out of our lands, you wish to keep us from marrying one another.”
Roberts bit his lips. He disliked to see woman in tears. He took her hands in his and said gently, “Kealoha, listen to me.”
She raised her head and with brimming eyes looked him full in the face.
“Kealoha,” he said, “couldn’t you learn to love me?”
She shook her head.
“Do you love Kea?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Then, Kealoha, I am not the man to cross the love path of another man.” He was silent for a moment then he continued: “I love you as I have never loved before. You say you love your father. For your sake, dear heart, I’ll not betray him. Go, tell your father that I have given my permission for you to marry Kea tonight. Go.”
Kealoha threw her head upon his shoulder and sobbed out her thanks. Then raising her pretty face to his, she pressed a kiss on his lips and left him to himself.