The morning call., 1892-10-30

boat modonless and intent. is no more hui
man than the sails and the clouds aud the
running waves and The gulls are human, and
you are alone upon the sea. Even the mans
eyes. looking out into the horizon, are not
human 10 their look. They are uneaHny,
goblin eyes, and they pierce the future and
read tie mysteries Of the west wind. All,
MY friend, he sees a long, long way who
locks as far as the west wind blows.
Sail thus alone across the channel Of
santa Barbara 10 where the island Of
.Anaca0a breaks purpiing through purpl0
SEA, and float in water so clear that, looking
down, you seem 10 be above another world,
and the bright fishes, darting In and cut
TlIpagh tie daTkeRlng branches OF the kelp,
2-e as birds that ty about from tree to tree
III a sjleat forest. For it is q silent forest,
that keip, Swinging no from the bottom,
though tie leaves move and the branches
wave and sway from side TO side as trees
are moved when great wind strikes them.
The winds Of that forest are silent winds,
and the leaves answer to its slightest touch
without sound of movement.
From above, far OF on the rocks, comes
the barking Of seals and through the caves
that pierce the island is echoed the BOOM
ing Of the breakers striking with steady
pUlsatous the farther side: but these
sounds, too, deepen the hush that is upon
the place, the hush that comes from mans
absence-and all tell tales of the sea Aye,
that is the place, Anacapa, to hear those
tales, though they are never told by human
lips. The seagulls scream there upon the
rocks, and the keiD forests bend low IN the
tide UUsheS with the burden Of them, and
the waves echo and Te-ech0 them iB the
sounding coVes, and the seals bark Of them
and so, presently. lying in your boat aud
looking al into the measuTeiess depths. you
have them borne in upon you and, dumbly,
The burden weighs you down, and you feel
10 your soul the tragedy Of drowned men
whose swollen bodies float ia the kelp-
covered eddies, or whose bones, picked
clean By great-eyed crabs, lie whitening 10
tie deep places where only nameless things
can live
So was borne in upon NE the story
OF tie abalone hunter. a simple tale
enough, its hero a Chinese; even a Chinese,
NY friend, degraded. a coOlie and of
despised race, can suffer-he can suffer per-
haps as even you in your high intelligence
caunot, for pain and pleasure are taken
alike by the fatalist
The only men in AnacaDa are the Chinese,
you know, half dozen perhaps, living 10
tumble-lown hut built upon jutting ledge,
the single level spot upon the island, just
under the shadow Of its Hottest cliff. They
make but a seant living catching dog sharks
for their fms and tails, which are dried in
the sun upon frames and shipped 10 China
as great delicaey. In former years ii was
much better The abalone, great uniyalye
mollusk, chung to every rock then, as large
sometimes as a half bushel measure, and
one had out to 90 about with bag and
bit OF iron 70 loosen the fish from rock to
rock to pick up good DAYS wage when the
tide was low. A periious calling? On,
yes but these coolies climb and cling like
cats, and little wetting now and again
made no difference Besides, what did il
matter? If a man fell from the rocks into
the deep pools you could always fish up his
sack OF abalones again-aud there were
plenty OF men. The mandarins Of Canton
ana Pekin gave small thought to the lives
that were sacrificed 10 furnish forth one
course al an elaborate feast.
But the story? L am coming 10 that.
Alter all u Is only the story of one coolies
life. Where was he born? 1 know not
Probably the sun Of the southern provinces
nurtured him, or il may be that his almond
eyes we're first conscious OF light 10 COM
partment In junk on the muddy bosom of
the Yellow River. / do not even know his
name nor the name Of the ancestors at
whose shrine he paid worship even upon
that rocky islet on the edge of this strange
new land, so different from his own.
l know only that he was an abalone
hunter aud that he went about from week
to week with his bag Of rice mating and
ms llttle DIT OF steel, now high above the
rolling breakers, now waist deep In their
Dreaming H0OQ-duQ mat ne uie0.
In the spring the abalOne harvest was
best, IN those days, and In the spring the
tide was strong. for the earth is awakened
from Information and her pulses beat high
and fierce. as a mans do. | have said that
IL is perilous calling. The peril is in get
ting at the mOllusk, generally. Just above
lOw-wateT mark, and when the tide goes
down the shell is raised and the creature
seems TO peek. IN some sort, to peer out
upon the exposed world from beneath its
covering of nacre-eOated on the out
side with plumes OF seaweed and
with colonies of barnacies. Then the hunter
comes along, peering here and there under
overhangng lodges or reaching far above
his head 10 where the highest tide line
touches and inserts his steel bar, sharpened
at the point under the edge of the raised
shell with quick movement, loosens the fish
from its hold ON the rock and tumbles it
down into his bag But he must be
quick, very quick, and his eye must be sure.
Once let him fail, or let an awkward move
ment discover the intrusion Of the steel to
the moliusk, and the she'll IS shutdown upon
the rock with p snap and the prize is lost.
Even strong man, my friend. cannot pull
an ordinary sized abalone from its bed, so
great is its power of suction. He can break
the shell, tits true, and so get out the meat. but
il is no part of the hunters plan 10 do that.
for the shell is OF purest mother OF pearl
and is itself rich prize. Then, too. IL the
smell be broken, the hunter runs the chance
Of losing the beautiful pearl that the mol
lusk sometimes carries in its stomach
And now the story.
1t was on spring day, then, that The aba
OF them-went OUT from
he little hut when the tide was low, pick
ing their way TO the other side of the island
through cave that carried great stream
when il was at flood. Three of them turned