Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1900-02-08
A SMUGGLER'S DERRICK.
BY Dawson Stearns.

pleasant trip down, and arrived there
without any trouble. 1t was when he
tried to get away that he had the re-
markable adventure of the derrick.
st. Pierre is not much of place,
but it is the principal village of the
islands of st. Pierre and Miquelon,
off the south coast of Newfoundland
islands which are all that remain to
possessions.
The little town is strung along one
principal street, and the population,
which is entirely French, varies ac-
cording to the number of vessels in
the har bor-if an open roadstead de-
serves the name.
Fred was surprised to find every
body French aud everything under
French rule; he had been told it would
be so, yet he had not realized it could
be so within thousand miles of Bos
ton. Yet the steamer he went down
on took regular guillotine that had
been sent out from Paris by the way
of Boston to st. Pierre for the coming
execution of man convicted there of
murder.
There is great deal of smuggling
of French goods from St Pierre to
the neighboring Canadian provinces,
which impose, as the United States do,
very high customs tariff on foreign
wines and liquors.
Now Fred was at the hotel at st.
Pierre, waiting for the steamer to take
him back to Boston, when the town
crier, going around one day with his
drum and official notices, proclaimed
that the steamer had broken down
and would not be able to make her
regular trip for fortnight at least.
1t did not suit Fred to wait. and in
consulting with the hotelkeeper he
learned that he might get to Cape
Breton by steamer trading to and
from the southwest coast of New
foundland, if he could manage to
reach Codroy or Burgeo within few
days.
The landlord promised to let Fred
know If there was an opportunity to
get over by sailing vessel, and next
day he told the boy of a little
schooner about to sail for Burgeo that
night. The captain of the vessel was
in the hotel at the time, an odd little
Frenchman of the fisherman type, who
assured Fred that he was good pilot
and careful sailor. SO the young
American engaged passage on the
Hortense, which was the name of the
skipper's wife and also his daughter.
On seeing the schooner Fred rued
his bargain-she was so small. But
the run to Burgeo was only about
hundred miles, and everybody told
him that by leaving st. Pierre at
night with fair wind he should easily
arrive at Burgeo before dark the fol-
lowing day. Moreover, if he did not
take this chance he might not be able
10 connect with the other steamer.
When Fred Brown left the hotel to
go on board the Hortense that night,
the innkeeper said with smile, ''Of
course it makes no difference to a pas
senger what the schooner's cargo is. "
mot if 1 get ashore all right in
Burgeo," said Fred, aud from the
way the old skipper nodded and
grinned at this he seemed satisfied
with the assurance.
1t was quite late when they went
down to the wharf and found man
waiting to row them off to the Hor-
tense, which was anchored in the
stream. Fred was pretty tired and
sleepy, SO when he got aboard he lay
down on one of the lockers in the lit
tie cabin, with his coat under his head
for a pillow, and was fast asleep before
he knew il. When he woke up it
was clear daylight, and the schooner
was running Though moderate sea,
H. al.
When Fred went on deck he was
surprised to find only two other men
and girl. "My brother Jacques and
my daughter" said the skipper, and
when Fred asked if they were all who
were on board, he smilingly replied,
"Oui-oh, yaas--plenty enough. Leetle
crew, leetle boat-but plenty good.
Bon! Oui! Ma petite tille Hortense,
she cook. Eli? Oui! Good! Et mon
frere, jacques, he good sailor man
ah, oui! All right! The day only one.
We sail out of de fog, eh?" For fog
was so dense that they could not see
the bowsprit from the stern.
Indeed, the schooner did seem very
small. She could not have been much
more than 80 tons, and she was quite
deep in the water with cargo. Fred
found it anything but pleasant to be
standing on in that dense atmosphere,
with SO tiny and heavily laden yes
sci.
For hours the skipper held his
course by compass, predicting clear
weather before sundown, but he
looked anxious, and he often spoke in
melancholy, caressing tone to his
daughter, big, strong girl about Is
years old, who spoke even less Eng
lish than her father. AS Fred found
no one with whom he could hold in
telligent converse, he lay down again
in the little cabin and was doing
shortly before noon, when he was
rudely reused by cries on deck and
noise as if from another vessel.