Tales of the Fish Patrol | Page 6

into the cockpit and fell to bailing
with buckets, pots, pans, and everything they could lay hands on. It was
a beautiful sight to see that water flying over the side! And when the
Reindeer was high and proud on the water once more, we dashed away
with the breeze on our quarter, and at the last possible moment crossed
the mud flats and entered the slough.
The spirit of the Chinese was broken, and so docile did they become
that ere we made San Rafael they were out with the tow-rope, Yellow

Handkerchief at the head of the line. As for George, it was his last trip
with the fish patrol. He did not care for that sort of thing, he explained,
and he thought a clerkship ashore was good enough for him. And we
thought so too.

THE KING OF THE GREEKS

Big Alec had never been captured by the fish patrol. It was his boast
that no man could take him alive, and it was his history that of the
many men who had tried to take him dead none had succeeded. It was
also history that at least two patrolmen who had tried to take him dead
had died themselves. Further, no man violated the fish laws more
systematically and deliberately than Big Alec.
He was called "Big Alec" because of his gigantic stature. His height
was six feet three inches, and he was correspondingly broad-
shouldered and deep-chested. He was splendidly muscled and hard as
steel, and there were innumerable stories in circulation among the
fisher-folk concerning his prodigious strength. He was as bold and
dominant of spirit as he was strong of body, and because of this he was
widely known by another name, that of "The King of the Greeks." The
fishing population was largely composed of Greeks, and they looked up
to him and obeyed him as their chief. And as their chief, he fought their
fights for them, saw that they were protected, saved them from the law
when they fell into its clutches, and made them stand by one another
and himself in time of trouble.
In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture many
disastrous times and had finally given it over, so that when the word
was out that he was coming to Benicia, I was most anxious to see him.
But I did not have to hunt him up. In his usual bold way, the first thing
he did on arriving was to hunt us up. Charley Le Grant and I at the time
were under a patrol-man named Carmintel, and the three of us were on
the Reindeer, preparing for a trip, when Big Alec stepped aboard.
Carmintel evidently knew him, for they shook hands in recognition.

Big Alec took no notice of Charley or me.
"I've come down to fish sturgeon a couple of months," he said to
Carmintel.
His eyes flashed with challenge as he spoke, and we noticed the
patrolman's eyes drop before him.
"That's all right, Alec," Carmintel said in a low voice. "I'll not bother
you. Come on into the cabin, and we'll talk things over," he added.
When they had gone inside and shut the doors after them, Charley
winked with slow deliberation at me. But I was only a youngster, and
new to men and the ways of some men, so I did not understand. Nor
did Charley explain, though I felt there was something wrong about the
business.
Leaving them to their conference, at Charley's suggestion we boarded
our skiff and pulled over to the Old Steamboat Wharf, where Big Alec's
ark was lying. An ark is a house-boat of small though comfortable
dimensions, and is as necessary to the Upper Bay fisherman as are nets
and boats. We were both curious to see Big Alec's ark, for history said
that it had been the scene of more than one pitched battle, and that it
was riddled with bullet-holes.
We found the holes (stopped with wooden plugs and painted over), but
there were not so many as I had expected. Charley noted my look of
disappointment, and laughed; and then to comfort me he gave an
authentic account of one expedition which had descended upon Big
Alec's floating home to capture him, alive preferably, dead if necessary.
At the end of half a day's fighting, the patrolmen had drawn off in
wrecked boats, with one of their number killed and three wounded. And
when they returned next morning with reinforcements they found only
the mooring-stakes of Big Alec's ark; the ark itself remained hidden for
months in the fastnesses of the Suisun tules.
"But why was he not hanged for murder?" I demanded. "Surely the
United States is powerful enough to bring such a man