Bloody encounters with smugglers are rare, but they do happen sometimes, and as it is always on the cards that active opposition may be encountered when a party sets off to intercept a smuggler on his way to “market,” the work of an exciseman is not entirely free from danger. Very often when a smuggler goes on a journey, he travels armed with sword or spear; sometimes with a musket; sometimes even with a modern revolver or shot-gun. He is prepared to use these, and unless the intercepting party gets the “drop” on him, he will put up a good fight. Unfortunately, the officer, as a rule, though acquainted to some extent with the law governing the right of private defence of public servants acting in an official capacity, does not take full advantage of it; he has not been bred to kill; and it is probable that there is a lurking fear in him that the magistrate, who will hold the enquiry, will not see quite eye to eye with him, and that he may, perhaps, be convicted of a rash and negligent act, or grievous hurt, if he merely wounds his man, or even, perhaps, of culpable homicide. To some extent he probably is justified in so thinking. Not long ago, an officer fired off his pistol in a melee following on a seizure, and wounded one of his assailants in the arm. A complaint was made, and the unfortunate young officer was convicted of grievous hurt, and sentenced to three months rigorous imprisonment and a fine. It is true he was afterwards retried and acquitted, but he was in no way compensated for the agony of mind he suffered, or for the degradation he had undergone in being tried as an ordinary criminal. This is chiefly to show that there is justification for an officer thinking twice or oftener before he proceeds to take risks. But the general run of magistrates are broad-minded men; men who combine with a sound knowledge of law, worldly wisdom, and a knowledge of the special conditions, and it is extremely rare for a conscientious officer to be “let down.” I shall now tell a story based on fact. Information was brought to the inspector of ... that a certain well-known smuggler was on his way to ... and that he had a large quantity of illicit opium with him. Report had it that he was armed, and, accordingly, the inspector, providing himself with a revolver of small calibre—really nothing more than a toy—and his peon, with a shot-gun loaded with slugs in both barrels, set off with a small party to a certain pass in the hills near by, through which the smuggler would have to pass. In due time the smuggler, with a load on his shoulders, and a Tower musket in his hand, came along. “Halt,” called the inspector, jumping from his place of concealment, and covering the smuggler with his toy revolver. The only reply was a flash and bang from the smuggler’s musket, and for a moment, the air was thick with smoke and nasty whining sounds, as missiles of all kinds flew past the inspector’s head.